At my youth center, I was told I’d been “chosen” for a free senior photo session. On paper, it sounded like a nice opportunity—senior pictures are expensive, and I wouldn’t have been able to afford them otherwise. But as a disabled teen, the word “chosen” never felt simple.
I’ve never really felt like I had a “real” childhood. A lot of my early years were shaped by disability, limitations, and survival instead of carefree experiences. That changes how moments like senior photos feel. When I look back, it’s hard not to wonder: was I picked because they believed in me, or because I was disabled and seemed like someone who needed to be helped?
I can be grateful for the photos and still feel uneasy about why I was selected. Both are true. The gesture helped me, but it also reminded me that disabled people often get access to basic milestones only when we’re “chosen,” instead of it being assumed we should have them like everyone else.
I’m writing about this because I want people to think more deeply about what “opportunities” for disabled people really mean. Is it about inclusion and equal access, or about feeling good for giving something to the disabled person? For me, real inclusion would mean I didn’t have to be a special exception to get something as ordinary as senior pictures.