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Brianna (she/her) is a crip cyborg storyteller living in Minneapolis-St. Paul. She was diagnosed with SMA Type II at 9 months of age and lives with co-occurring physical and mental health conditions. By day, she works as an advocate, bridging disability and mental health awareness to empower people to live their best lives; by night, she dabbles in imagination, and is in the process of making the book of her heart, “#WaningCrescent,” the best it can be. Find her online at www.briannahopealbers.com and on social media @briehalbers.
The problem with disability pride is that it’s a little bit mythical. It’s not something you can describe or explain. It’s an enigma. A paradox. It shouldn’t exist, but it does, and the illogic of it — valuing something the world abhors — makes the concept seem impossible. You…
It’s no surprise that I love seeing myself in my favorite stories. Take “Mass Effect,” for example, a science fiction media franchise by video game developer BioWare. One of my best friends, Sherry, has written several columns about the franchise, which she recently played from beginning to end. Every…
When thinking about disability pride — specifically the content I wanted to create for Disability Pride Month — I found myself returning to a quote from “Care Work: Dreaming Disability Justice” by Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha. “[A] core part of disability justice work [is] making the next world, the…
I know that self-talk is important, including the words we use and our tone of voice. We’re usually trying to look out for ourselves, but more often than not, our good intentions are swallowed by feelings of shame. But it doesn’t matter how many posts I like on Instagram…
Everyone knows that I’m a “Star Wars” buff. Lately, I’ve been listening to “Star Wars” audiobooks, specifically the Old Republic series. I’d heard some not-so-great things about the first novel, “Revan,” but eventually, my curiosity won out. After all, if there’s one thing “Star Wars” audiobooks have going for them,…
Over the years, I’ve grown more reliant on friends, especially those who live with some sort of disability. Of course, I treasure all my friendships, but there is a bond between disabled folks that transcends most relationships. It’s a special kind of knowing, a wordless understanding that is reassuring. I…
It’s not just the closeness, the sudden proximity to people other than my parents. It’s not just the dearth of mask mandates. (You’ll pry mine from my stone-cold, long-dead hands.) It’s not even the sense of possibility — for the first time in over a year, I can go places,…
A few days ago, I linked my friend Sherry to an article on spatial abolition and disability justice. I knew a few paragraphs into the article that I would be sending it to Sherry. Given her interest in disability justice and accessibility, it seemed like a match made…
Content warning: The following contains a mention of suicide. If you know me at all, you know that I love Target. I’m not proud of it. If anything, I’m this close to canceling my RedCard and Shipt membership. But I can’t deny my years-long obsession with the retail store identified…
I spent the majority of high school — and middle school, and undergrad, for that matter — stressed about my skin. I’ve written about it several times, from my cystic acne saga to the wonders of Accutane (isotretinoin). I guess you could say I’m making up for those long years…
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