privilege, what it means to be white and disabled
- Ruby Sophia

- Feb 8
- 5 min read
I am a white disabled woman. I am so privileged not only by the color of my skin, but also by the money my family has. When I started to experience health problems, I was taken to any doctor without worry. I had blood tests taken, even ones where some vials required to be paid for out of pocket. My mom drove me around to appointments at any hour of the day. I got X-rays done. I got a diagnosis. I participated in a medical study, all of this because I have good health insurance. After all, my dad has a good job. He got a good education not only because his dad did, but also because his dad did, and on and on it could go. I had, and my family had so many tools at our disposal because of our health insurance, our money, our privilege, and the color of our skin. I won't pretend it doesn't exist.
I could not have been diagnosed with autism or with hEDS because of the color of my skin, because in black and brown people, these aren't seen as traits reflective of a diagnosis, but violent character traits that make people of color less than. They are not believed at the same rate, diagnosed at the same rate, or receive help or accommodations at the same rate. Not because they are less disabled but because of the racism ingrained in every single part of the American medical system and America as a whole.
I won't pretend to be color blind. I recognize that if I wanted to, I could not bring any of this up; I could not talk about privilege and race and the current political climate. I only have that privilege because I am not directly affected, and I am not directly affected because I am white. If I wanted to, I could leave this post unpublished and turn a blind eye to genocide, oppression, apartheid, racism, and intersectionality because they do not inherently affect me. Yet I choose not to, not because I am a white savior, but rather because I want to use my voice not to prop up a flawed system or make myself feel good, but because I believe that every voice should matter; my voice should not have more of an impact than anyone else's. Still, I am not blind to the fact that that is not often the case.
When I considered starting a blog, I went back and forth because I felt that this neurodivergent community does not need any more white autistic woman influencers like Chloe Hayden or Paige Layle, to name a few. This marginalized community, in its entirety, continuously fails to understand and promote an understanding of intersectionality. That continuously has white women step up and voice things that are not inherent to this community. When I considered all this, I thought maybe I was not a needed voice, and if I never left the shadows, nothing would be lost. But my mind was changed because while I cannot change the color of my skin, I can change my outlook. I do not need to prop up the system that allows me to live a privileged life, but I cannot dismantle it on my own. Still, I can show that it exists, I can read books, watch videos, write down quotes, and engage in content that strengthens my understanding of racism, the horrors of the current world, and intersectionality. I can turn around and recommend them to you.
I do not want to be a white savior; I want to be a megaphone for this diverse community that I am a part of. I am not an ally of people of color; I am an accomplice. I believe the world is bigger than myself and my experiences, and I read and interact with things that affirm that belief.
I don't think that people of color have any responsibility to educate white people about their experiences. I don't think they should need to be the voice and the megaphone for how their experiences as an autistic or disabled person are compounded by the experiences of being a person of color. And so, while black and brown people have willingly educated me and many others about their experiences to the point where I want to pass that torch to my readers, they did not need to do that. There should not be an expectation that people of color explain their very existence and how it is prohibited by the systems in place, just like a disabled person does not need to demonstrate their condition and how they can exist.
I will be honest: my friend group and community do not inherently reflect my beliefs. I am privileged in that I am homeschooled, and only one of my parents needs to work to provide for my family, while the other can stay home, drive me around, and teach me. I am privileged, but my community lacks diversity because I attend a homeschool program in Orange County, where only privileged, rich white people can afford to attend. Not only afford as in money but also afford as in privilege.
So I can sit here on my high horse and tell you to diversify your friendships and relationships, and that reflects your ideological beliefs. I can say that, and also say that I have 2 friends of color out of over 20 friends, and that's not something I say out of shame, but just as a goal for myself because I can surround myself with diverse content like books, podcasts, and documentaries. Still, if it is not reflected in my community and in my relationships, I will not have the community I seek, one with opinions and experiences that differ from my own. So yes I seek friends of color but no I don't seek them to make myself feel better or so I can say "I'm an ally" but rather because I want to see other perspectives not forcefully if I never get any knowledge about first hand racism from friends I bear no grudge for it is not their responsibility but if I do that just adds to my understanding as I learn about what it means to be a person of color in racist America.
All of this to say, white people will always benefit from the racist systems inherent to America. White people will always have unearned privilege. We cannot control that privilege, but we can decide how to use it. I implore you to use your voice and your knowledge to uplift the marginalized, not to speak for them but to amplify their voices. I have the privilege of being able to talk about race, and yet I choose to, not because I'm perfect but because I'm trying.


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