In the midst of the pandemic, I've been thinking a lot about activism.

I've been thinking about why and how I became an activist in the first place, and about how activism is more essential now than ever if we want to survive.

For me, becoming an activist was not an easy journey, or the fulfillment of a lifelong dream. It was born out of struggle, and the will to survive, and thrive in this world.

Growing up, I never aspired to be an activist. In fact, one of my greatest wishes was just to blend in and be like everyone else, but the reality is that was an impossible dream. Growing up in a disabled body meant that I was not like everyone else, and I lived in a world that constantly reminded me of that fact. 

Ableism plagued my daily existence before I ever knew the word, or even understood the concept. From the stares on the street, to the people who would look at my parents with eyes full of pity and say, "I don't know how you do it. I could never handle child like that." The world made it very clear to me that I was a problem, but I was one of the lucky ones.

Before I was willing, or able to fight for myself, and my right to exist in this world, my mom was always in my corner. She fought with teachers and school administrators for my right to be in a regular classroom, she made sure I always got the accommodations I needed, and she was an advocate for other kids too, not just for me. 

She knew part of the secret that I would later learn. Most people come to activism out of necessity, not out of luxury. Growing up though, I didn't care about changing the system, because I didn't yet realize that was the problem. I was focused on changing myself, so I could fit into the dominant narrative, and check the boxes that others had created.

I truly believed that if I was smarter, better, faster, stronger my wheelchair wouldn't matter. I bought into the false narrative that I could overcome disability if I try hard enough. 

I never wanted to be an activist, but now, I can't imagine any other way of life.

I became an activist over time, as I learned the history of disabled people and other marginalized groups, and began to realize that my body wasn't the problem, society was.

I became an activist as the microaggressions of ableism mounted, and I realized that being a "good" disabled person would still never be enough to make me equal.

I became an activist when I realized I was privileged to have a platform, and I had a responsibility to use it to elevate other marginalized people's experiences.

I became an activist over simple things, really. I became an activist because I realized there are still too many people who look at certain bodies as less valuable than others. I became an activist because I wanted to survive.

That's the thing about activism, it's not about one action, one march, or one moment necessarily, it's a dedicated way of life, and the decision to use your voice to say that everyone's existence should matter and people's identities are not the problem.

I didn't want to be an activist, I didn't even choose to be.

However, as I began to realize that being marginalized meant that I had to fight for basic rights, like the right to go to school, have a job, or keep living, I realized I had to join the fight. not just for myself but for everyone else not yet ready.

Activism is not a luxury, it's a necessary tool of survival when you are marginalized.

I became an activist because my life depended on it, and whether or not you realize it today, yours does too.

[Image description: black text on a white background reads, "activism is not a luxury, it is a necessary tool of survival when you are marginalized.” The quote is attributed to Karin Hitselberger. At the bottom of the image is a web address that reads: www.claimingcrip.com]