Anna Neshyba

@annaneshyba.bsky.social

Neurodivergent crip artist who likes drawing, fairytales, queer liberation, and disability justice. Currently in Japan. Website: https://www.annaneshyba.com/ Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/annaneshyba Substack (free): https://substack.com/@annaneshyba

I see a lot of posts making fun of Republicans for being ugly, the whole "their hatred is manifesting in their appearance" angle and it makes me feel kind of weird. Like, do I have a visceral reaction to them? Yes, of course. But Idk it's still putting bodies in a hierarchy

Understand that the anthem and the pledge of allegiance are American propaganda. Think for a moment how wild it is to expect the people of another country, who are actively being threatened by this administration, to respect our propaganda. I’d boo too.

Oh hey, it's President's day. Really proud of all my fellow American's, currently protesting across the nation. I'd like to take this opportunity to review some slogans I've seen today. ---->

If I did yoga, I would still be disabled. If I did acupuncture, I would still be disabled. If I cut out gluten, I would still be disabled. Your unsolicited recommendation will not cure me. Please stop.

Yoooo, I wrote this lil' essay, "Don't Tell me to do Yoga," about unsolicited advice given to people with disabilities. I wrote it while reading @thellpsx.bsky.social book, The Future Is Disabled. It was such a good book, and it taught me so much. Read full essay on substack. Hope ya'll enjoy!

Comic of two figures, with a caption "Why don't you do yoga?" The question is being asked by the character on the left. He is dressed well, in late 19th century attire, with a top hat, pointing to the character on the right. The character on the right is a little goblin creature. Their arm is in a a sling, and they have several casts and wraps on. They are looking back at the character asking the questions with judgement. First page of text of the essay "Don't Tell me to do yoga," by Anna Neshyba. It reads: Welp, it happened again. I had just sat down with my signature order (espresso and a mochi donut) at my favorite coffee shop and began to work on my latest piece. It’s a paint marker illustration depicting a colorful night procession. The woman next to me struck up a conversation, complimenting my art. She liked it, and we had a very pleasant exchange. I ever so briefly mentioned my disability. I did not speak about it negatively, only its impact on what I do, but the atmosphere of the conversation immediately shifted.

She said she was sorry for me, and began to ask me questions. Question: what do I have? Answer: I have Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, a connective tissue disease. Question: what does that do to a person? Answer: it affects the production of collagen, an important protein found in connective tissue. Many people with hEDS experience joint instability, hyper mobility, and chronic pain, but it affects people differently. Interestingly enough, she did not ask what I do to manage it. I do physical therapy, take medication, and I use a wheelchair for energy conservation and pain management. I also use a ton of short term interventions to manage daily aches and pains.

“Have you tried yoga?”

The question sits awkwardly in the air as I take a deep breath. Here we go again.Second page of text from the essay "Don't Tell me to do Yoga," by Anna Neshyba. It reads: We are now in the prescriptive part of the conversation. She recommends things, and I say yes, yes, no, yes. It’s tedious, and I shut it down as quickly as I can. Why is it so tedious? Well, because I’ve had this conversation before. Over and over. I personally have been asked this question probably fifty times, by fifty different people. It seems to be every able-bodied person’s first instinct. Some ask if I’ve done, or will do yoga, before they even ask what I have. Like yoga is a magical cure all, appropriate for any disease or illness, even if they themselves have never done yoga.

It seems as soon as someone learns of my illness, I invariably receive recommendations and suggestions, and this is an experience that seems common among my disabled peers. And it’s not just yoga, I’ve received hundreds of recommendations. They delve into diet and nutrition, e.g. have I tried: keto, cutting out sugar, cutting out gluten, losing weight, etc. They’ll ask about movement disciplines, yoga being the most common, but then pilates, tai chi, dance, meditation, and then if they have exhausted those, they’ll ask about Eastern medicine interventions: acupuncture, reflexology, cupping. I have fielded probably hundreds of recommendations, and for the record, before anyone thinks to ask, the answer is yes. I have tried many of these things.

The conversation stuck out to me in a way it hasn’t in the past. Haunted me as I sipped my espresso, and after I put away my markers and returned home.Third page of text of the essay "Don't Tell Me to Do Yoga," by Anna Neshyba. It reads: I truly believe the woman in the coffee shop meant well. I know that most people mean well. They don’t like the idea that I might be in pain, and their inquiries come from a place of genuine concern for my well being. But walking back from the coffee shop, I finally placed my feelings of discomfort; the reason I dislike this conversation. Intent is not the same as impact, and there is often a subtle inquiry in these “harmless” bits of advice, and that is: is this your fault? Is your disability the result of your inaction? If you did yoga, would you still be disabled?

I have been re-reading Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha’s book, The Future Is Disabled; Prophesies, Love Notes, and Mourning Songs. I read it about a year ago, but it was early in my disability journey, and there was a lot that I wasn’t ready for. As I read it again, I realize I have come a long way in making sense of my body, the movement, and my place in the world. I am thinking about the book as I contemplate the “have you tried yoga” phenomena, and this exchange with the otherwise nice lady at the coffee shop. Because this kind of uninformed and unsolicited advice is predicated on the assumption that disability is an individual misfortunate, that can, and should, be “fixed” with individual solutions. A core component of The Future is Disabled is that disability is not only a natural part of human diversity, but that disabled thought is critical to creating a just society for all.