“Thank you, Judy, for making a fuss. And showing me that I can do the same”

Laura Pettenuzzo reflects on the life and legacy of Judith Heumann, the “mother” of the disability rights movement.

When I learned of the passing of American disability advocate Judith “Judy” Heumann this weekend, I had to take several minutes to sit with my shock and sadness.

I first learned about Judy when I watched Crip Camp, the Oscar-nominated Netflix documentary of which she was a subject. I was new to the world of disability advocacy, and Judy’s work blew me away. After I watched Crip Camp, I fell down a Google rabbit-hole of her various roles, listened to her podcast, The Heumann Perspective, and sought out a copy of her memoir, Being Heumann. 

Judy became the first teacher in the state of New York to use a wheelchair after suing the Board of Education, which initially refused to grant her a teaching licence. She supported the foundation of several disability rights organisations and was the first Special Advisor for International Disability Rights during the Obama Administration.

What most resonated with me in Judy’s work was that she was multiply marginalised. Not only was she disabled, she was also a woman, and she was Jewish. Every day she navigated a world of ableism, sexism and anti-Semitism. But she not only retained her hope that things could change, she witnessed that change occurring as a direct result of her work.

Of her achievements, Judy said, “I simply refused to accept what I was told about who I could be. And I was willing to make a fuss about it.”

As a disabled woman and a member of the LGBTQIA+ community, I often feel despair at the ableism, sexism and homophobia in the world. I question whether these attitudes and barriers will ever be shifted, and then I remember Judy and other advocates like her. I remember that the accommodations and supports from which I benefit every day were made possible by the efforts of Judy and all the disabled people who have come before me. They fought and campaigned and worked in the face of greater ableism than I care to imagine. Judy advocated from her early adulthood to her final days, and she will be deeply missed. 

May Judy’s work and life be a reminder to those of us in the disability community that change is possible. That everyday acts of advocacy matter more than we can ever know.

May her refusal to be limited by the significant societal ableism she faced be a reminder to the rest of the world that we, like Judy, will not be silent. We will not be meek and passive. We will refuse to accept what we are told about who we can be.

Thank you, Judy, for making a fuss. And thank you for showing me that I can do the same.