Emily Crackford is an artist with the Studio A, an Australian studio that celebrates artists with disabilities
Emily Crackford is an artist with the Studio A, an Australian studio that celebrates artists with disabilities
Sound on! This 23-year-old artist has some serious statements to make through her art 🎨😍
The artist uses paper-cutting techniques on leaves as a way of coping with ADHD.
Ukeles has mounted "For ⟶ forever...," a public art collaboration with the Queens Museum, Times Square Arts and MTA Arts & Design.
Conchita Hernández Legorreta is a disability rights activist and co-founder of the National Coalition of Latinx with Disabilities. As a teacher, doctorate student, and founder of METAS (Mentoring Engaging and Teaching All Students) Conchita advocates for programming and policy changes for people with disabilities in the U.S. and internationally.When my family migrated to the United States from Mexico in 1991, my four siblings, my parents, and I lived on a horse ranch in California’s Central Valley where my father labored. My parents were grateful for the opportunity and acquiesced to the owners’ exploitative expectations. They would hold on to my father’s wages for “safe-keeping” and my mother would clean, cook, and care for their children for no pay. My siblings and I ranged between the ages of three to 13 years old, and the owners told my parents not to send us to school. They would also limit the number of times we could visit our extended family who lived nearby. When my dad asked for his wages, the owners stated that they did not have to give them to him because of the cost they incurred having us live on the ranch. Due to the fact that we were immigrants, didn’t speak fluent English, and didn’t understand the distinct institutions and systems in the US, my parents were unable to fight for their rights. This experience has remained with me throughout my life and shaped the way in which I have come to understand my role as a disabled immigrant Latina. Living in the United States as an undocumented blind Latina has shown me all the ways in which the various systems have failed to provide basic rights to all but a select few. This lesson started when I was still a kid. My mother decided to stay in the United States because both my brother and I are blind, and she realized that we could get a better-quality education with accommodations and support than if we were in Mexico, where there were none. At the time, we could also receive medical treatment without being legal residents. My brother and I attended many different schools, yet no administrators fully explained to my mother what legal rights we were entitled to. At most schools we received subpar services, but it was more than my mother had ever expected. As a first grader, I was often asked to interpret Individualized Education Program (IEP) meetings for my parents. An IEP is a legal binding document that determines which services students with disabilities will receive in public school. That was never explained to my parents in their language, and thus they could not be part of the decision-making process. My mom believed that the school was doing us a favor by giving us the bare minimum, when in reality they were failing to provide us with services that were simple basic rights. Now, as a professional in the field of disability, I realize that our situation is not unique. I have repeatedly seen first-hand how schools disregard immigrant families, especially those who do not speak English.I now understand that Northern California was the site of the Disability Rights Movement that spurred many national changes, such as the passage of the Americans with Disabilities Act and a disability identity. However, I never learned any of this in school, and I never had role models who saw having a disability as something positive. I now realize that much of this was because my community and I were not the intended audience of this movement. The Disability Rights Movement was mainly led by white disabled individuals who did not make an effort to include the voices or experiences of people of color. The systematic consequence of that was that I did not have access to my basic rights, resources, and information. If my community had half the amount of information that white middle-class Americans have, things would be much different. Yet in lieu of a lack of systemic support systems, my family and community stepped forward to provide me with loving, educational, and empowering care. They taught me what the school system and Disability Rights Movement failed to do. My younger sister taught me how to tie my shoes non-visually, my grandma taught me how to wash dishes non-visually, and my mom moved houses every time I changed schools so that I could safely walk home in middle and high school. My friends understood my needs and worked with me to ensure I could participate meaningfully with them. I’m not arguing that folks do not need institutional change, but that we often thrive because of our community, with or without it. Many other activists of color and I are most at odds with the Disability Rights Movement’s fixation on ‘independence’. This is a notion that an individual with a disability should do everything on their own, and that anything short of that hinders that individual. However, this is a Eurocentric concept based on capitalist individualism in which each individual needs to yield a high production value or have no value otherwise (Block et al, 2015). The reality is that individuality and independence is not part of my and my community’s narrative, or that of other communities of color, nor has it been for thousands of years. Instead, the concept of mutual aid or “interdependence” as used by Sins Invalid is more representative of many of our experiences as BIPOC in meeting “each others’ needs as we build towards liberation, knowing that state solutions inevitably extend into further control over our lives.” We thrive when we exist in a community as active participants, creating our own resources in spite of the void. > Many folks are so eager to highlight ableism in communities of color, yet lack a basic analysis of how white supremacy is a root cause that keeps communities of color from accessing information, education, and funding.> > Conchita Hernández LegorretaAnother misconception that I constantly hear is the idea that the Latinx community inherently has a negative connotation of disability. However, I contend that we all live in an ableist society. The Latinx community lacks access to information and resources with language being a barrier, as three out of four Latinx people speak Spanish at home (Rodriguez-Lainz et al, 2019); we are not inherently more ableist. Institutionalized power structures control who has access to information, thus the failure lies with the government, organizations, and nonprofits that continuously underserve communities of color and especially communities in poverty. Very few programs offer resources and information in any language other than English. Very few have culturally competent information, and few lack representation of these communities in any type of leadership position, both as people with disabilities and BIPOC. Many folks are so eager to highlight ableism in communities of color, yet lack a basic analysis of how white supremacy is a root cause that keeps communities of color from accessing information, education, and funding. There are many college-level panels on the topic of disability that are not accessible to my community. I did not learn that a disability community existed until my senior year of college when I happened to have a blind professor. If I had not gone to college, I might still lack the relevant information to flourish, as many in my community do. I gave up on trying to transform and beg organizations and institutions that my community matters, and that they should do more to outreach to undocumented, dual-language, communities in poverty. I gave up trying to prove why we are important and why we need access to their information. With community in mind, in 2016 I came together with a group of friends that are all disabled people of color and who also happen to be professionals in the field of blindness and disability, and created our own nonprofit, METAS (Mentoring Engaging and Teaching All Students). We serve families in the United States and internationally who are oftentimes left out of these conversations and left without resources. We provide families information on how to navigate the special education system and advocate for their children, and we connect them to disabled adult role models. In one of our initiatives, we partnered with the National Federation of the Blind of Texas to provide trainings to undocumented blind individuals in the United States who cannot access services due to their immigration status. For many of the participants, our workshop was the first time they held a cane in their hand, learned how to access print materials, and had a positive outlook about their future. We held a nationwide conference in Mexico in July 2020 through a grant from the Holman Prize where we had more than 300 attendees. We provided everything free of charge, including workshops, meals, and childcare, and we are still in contact with those families. During quarantine, we have put on virtual seminars in Spanish and we have over 600 people registered for our September session on how to make materials at home for blind students. Many families reach out to us because systems and schools have failed to serve them. Everything that I do revolves around my community and making sure other children get opportunities I was denied in school. I decided to become a teacher of blind students and am getting my doctorate in special education from George Washington University. My research is focused on the experiences of blind English learners in high school, and how their insights can help guide practitioners to better serve them. Somewhere out there is a child who does not know they are perfect just the way they are, and who might not hear it from their white, able-bodied teachers. I was that child having English as a second language and living in poverty. I continue to fight for institutional change and inclusion for disabled BIPOC immigrants, yet I don’t pretend that this is enough, nor that being included in a capitalist, ableist, racist, xenophobic system is the answer to our problems. I believe that my community is best served when we gather and envision a liberated world outside of oppressive systems, and we fight toward it everyday. We’ve always been our own best answers.DashDividers_1_500x100Latinidad is ever-evolving. It cannot be defined by a blanket term or monolithic idea. That’s why it’s important to look at its future with respect to its past and present — and that’s our mission. In a series of essays, reported articles, and stories for Refinery29 Somos and Latinx Heritage Month, we’ll explore the unique conversations and challenges that affect these communities.DashDividers_1_500x100Voices of Disability is edited by Kelly Dawson, a disability advocate who was born with cerebral palsy. She has spoken about her disability on the popular podcast Call Your Girlfriend, and written on the subject for Vox, AFAR, Gay Mag, and more. Find her work at kellymdawson.com. Like what you see? How about some more R29 goodness, right here?
The Netflix series is the latest from Sex and the City and Younger creator Darren Star.
The brand presented 54 looks with an inclusive cast, including people living with disabilities and a dog in north London's Waterlow Park.
Yahoo is collaborating with Black artists to bring their visions for equality to life. And our first artist, Malcom Jones, created and designed this beautiful Black Lives Matter shirt — and 100% of the profits go to the National Urban League. You can buy this shirt shirt from the Verizon Media Shop: https://bit.ly/2REeEOF
Since the outcry, Gores’ private equity group said it intends to “eventually” divest from a company that handles prison communications.
The artist's solo exhibition of new work is on view at Marianne Boesky Gallery in New York.
Not only is Taylor Swift a talented songwriter and performer, but 2020 has also proven that she could have a second calling as a hair and makeup artist. For this year’s Academy of Country Music Awards, Swift did her own hair, makeup, and styling. Dressed in an autumnal palette of glittery burgundy and caramel tan, she complemented the cozy-yet-glamorous look with a soft, low bun, curly bangs, and dreamy minimal makeup. There’s something slightly nostalgic about Swift’s styling choice: The airy feathered curls almost feel reminiscent of her country-music roots, when she rocked a full head of springy blonde curls, only now it’s with a softer, folky twist.Taking the stage last night, Swift performed her song “betty” off her latest studio album, folklore. The last time Swift made an appearance at the ACM Awards was in 2015. Prior to that, she made her first award-show debut in 2007, when she performed her early hit “Tim McGraw,” making last night’s 2020 performance a very full-circle moment. According to reports by People, Swift actually DIY-ed her glam for the show. We’re not sure if the low-key vibe is a result of Swift spending extra time at home — and, like many of us, taking a break from eyeshadow and hot tools — or if she’s just been feeling the cottagecore vibes thanks to TikTok. Or maybe there’s a little subliminal British inspiration, a nod to the classic English Rose look. The effortless glam feels especially fitting, as Swift has leaned hard into this fresh, simple beauty aesthetic in promoting her folklore album. Due to quarantine health and safety regulations, she also did her own hair and makeup for her “cardigan” music video, pulling her blonde hair into two loosely-braided buns, with her bangs left in the same loosely-windswept wavy texture she wore to last night’s award show.While we keep Swift’s “betty” live performance on repeat, we’re also feeling inspired to lean into a similar air-dried look this fall — and maybe cut some new bangs while we’re at it.Like what you see? How about some more R29 goodness, right here?I Got Two-Toned Hair & This Is How It LooksNatural Hair Discrimination Is Illegal In ColoradoShop Fall's 5 Biggest Hair Accessory Trends
Prints, paintings and other artwork from modern Latinx artists on Etsy, Society6 and Saatchi Art.
No sleep? No problem.
Former primary school teacher-turned-artist, David Speed, creates incredible neon murals in London that have captivated people across the world. Follow him on Instagram and TikTok @davidspeeduk
The multi-tasking advocacy organization and retailer launched in 2018 with the mission to make healing resources more inclusive for all.
Last September, Chromat’s Becca McCharen-Tran blew her competition at New York Fashion Week out of the water with a runway show unlike any before it. The show, held at Spring Studios, was meant to celebrate her brand’s 10-year anniversary. And that it did — with an inclusive roster of models and energy that, at the time, seemed unsurpassable. And yet, after having watched the Chromat’s newest offering, a short film titled JOY RUN that was directed by Tourmaline, it’s clear that no one should ever underestimate McCharen-Tran. On Tuesday evening, the film aired on the CFDA’s digital fashion platform, Runway 360, alongside dozens of other short films and virtual runway shows. But just like the in-person events the brand has hosted in the past, JOY RUN was a standout. The film jumps from recorded Zoom calls with guests, including trans athletes Andraya Yearwood and Terry Miller and ACLU lawyer and transgender rights activist Chase Strangio, to shots of the new collection modeled on McCharen-Tran’s “Chromat babes”: Chella Man, a trans and deaf artist who recently starred in Calvin Klein’s Pride campaign; Maya Finoh, a cultural worker known as Savage x Fatty; Jerron Herman, an artist, writer, and dancer with cerebral palsy; and Maya Margarita, a non-binary trans femme artist. Photographer Lia Clay Miller shot the accompanying campaign lookbook. Among the looks featured in the video were bike shorts, crop tops, track pants, and face masks, all as colorful and vibrant as the playground they were modeled on. The latter are new for the brand, and are constructed specifically to protect athletes against COVID-19 spread. They come in four colors — red, blue, green, and yellow — and two cuts — pleated and seamed. Made in partnership with Reebok, the film focuses on the important role that team sports and athletes play in bringing people together and making everyone feel powerful in their bodies. “We are in a moment where so much is happening on an international and local level around sports that reproduce a world we don’t need or deserve,” the press release reads. “JOY RUN models the ways that sport — in its broadest form — can be a force for pleasure, for lifting each other up, for revealing in the deliciousness of our bodies.” In the film, Yearwood and Miller discuss the difficulties and discrimination they face as trans athletes. “I personally do not feel that one would choose to go through all that we have to go through with transitioning solely to win a few medals,” Yearwood. Both runners were defendants in a lawsuit that sought to block them from competing in girls high school sports in Connecticut. “They’re making it seem like we’re the only two transgender athletes ever in the whole world,” Miller says. “And we’re really not, it’s just that we speak up and we stand for ourselves, which is important. And I feel like when other trans people see that, it really inspires them to do the same because not everyone is brave and outspoken like we are.” “If we are not going to, then who is?” Yearwood asksSee the film and the new collection, here.Like what you see? How about some more R29 goodness, right here?Chromat & Reebok Are Teaming Up Once AgainWhy Models Wore "Sample Size" Tees On The RunwayChromat’s Mannequins Are Body-Positive
Thomas Trum doesn’t paint with typical brushes — he uses street painting machines and brushes attached to drills.
Because "The Lovers" doesn't have to show a straight white couple.
Burberry Beauty's newly minted Global Beauty Director on her first big break, where she finds inspiration and working with Marilyn Manson.
In recent days, many Flywheel Sports instructors have shared public social-media posts thanking their devoted "FlyFam" members and class attendees.
Priya Krishna and Jenny Dorsey discuss how it can be an educational tool for chefs, cookbook authors, and food media at large.