What is Your “Inclusion” Worth?

(See the original post in LinkedIn here.)

One week ago, I made the above post in LinkedIn. This issue has been something I have been trying to address since returning to Singapore in late 2016. Back then, “inclusion” was not the huge buzz-word that it is nowadays. Large Autism forums at the time were being held without a single Autistic person or Autistic researcher present in the room. The voices of persons with disabilities were seldom ever heard at all, although there were beginnings of ‘feel-good’, ‘nice-nice’, ‘be-kind’ videos floating around. Autism “awareness” was only about “lighting it up blue”, and information about autism was the domain of the non-autistic, self-styled ‘experts’ with degrees in psychology but not an iota of lived-experience at all.

Since then, much has changed. Autistic, deaf and disabled voices in Singapore have slowly emerged into the foreground. This is a great thing. I am unsure whether my robust, sometimes blunt and brusque fist-shaking had very much to do with instigating change, but I do know I did play some small part in the churning, swirling, stirring process, alongside a small group of brave and outspoken PWDs and allies from the Disabled People’s Association, other arts practitioners, and allies in the government. From the ground, I know our PWD+allies’ (some almost reckless) outspokenness has opened tiny holes in the thick fog for other younger advocates to step through, and there are many capable disability advocates now doing very well. It was truly a community effort, of which I was merely a tiny spark. I have left the Disabled People’s Association, our entire old Board of Directors stepped down and made way for a brand new team. I am hopeful that new energy will bring better conditions. But we still have a long, long way to go.

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Scheherazade’s Sea: Wake Up in My Dreams

Dawn-joy & Lucy cuddle and leaning cheek to cheek, in fuchsia pink and red, amidst a fantasia of pink peonies, against blue sky and white fluffy clouds.

Update:
Our memoir-fantasie has been renamed, “Lucy Like-a-Charm,”

in honour of my beloved Lucy.

Scheherazade’s Sea Website is Active! Please check out our ongoing activities, photos, musings, and works-in-progress at https://scheherazadessea.wordpress.com/ .

Above is one of my favourite photos of Lucy and myself, taken in 2014, in Sydney, Australia. We are cuddling, leaning intimately cheek to cheek, eyes closed in peaceful contentment. I wore a fuchsia pink hoodie and Lucy is wrapped snugly in a red flannel snoodie that I sewed for her. We had just moved into a dilapidated house along William Street, Paddington. It was old, and cold, but we were warm and cosy together, curled up in a small couch with a bright pink throw rug. I created a fantasia image from the original photograph, placing us in the midst of a flurry of large, round peonies, against blue sky and white clouds. The poem, “Wake Up in My Dreams”, which will also be the title of our epic memoir-fantasie, when completed, appears on the right of the image:

Dancing with my shadows,
Whispering, “Good Night!”
Humming silent wishes,
Smiling deep inside.
Dancing with my shadows,
Jarful of moonbeams!
Come, lay down beside me,
Wake up in my dreams.
(©Dawn-joy Leong, 2010)

Lucy Like-a-Charm, love of my life, and a central figure in my journey, left the mortal realm in 2023. Since then, I have begun working on the final chapter of our epic multimodal transdisciplinary autobiography. It has been a bumpy process – churning, swirling, turning, tumbling, weeping, laughing, mourning, rejoicing, flying and falling all at once. I even survived a near-death experience a few months after Lucy departed, which forced me to stop working outside of home for an entire year. Art, with passion and purpose, is never easy. And I know that I signed up for the challenge when I broke away from the Golden Cage of pampered subjugation. There was never a moment that I regretted this concerted decision and action. But after Lucy suddenly left me, I was thrown into a dark vortex, lost in a desolation I had never known before. I simply couldn’t imagine a life without her anymore. Yet, she returned to me, vibrant and resonant inside my grieving spirit, bringing resolution to unanswered questions that I had written and sung about long before her appearance in my life. Lucy continued to be my channel of Divine Grace. And thus, I continued to live, and now, I embrace the honour of a profound Grief, the other side of Lucy’s perfect Love. A grief that did not break me, but instead is holding me up and leading me gently onward, even in the midst of my yearning to be with her again. I now see life and death from a different perspective, it is as if I have entered a whole new paradigm of existence where there is no longer a clear demarcation between the two.

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