To Stella, glad you 'accidently' admired my voice...

Back in 2011, a local South Australian disability advocate asked if I thought about writing an opinion editorial piece for The Punch’s “Angry Cripple” column. As I was not of journalistic brilliance, knowing what to write or where I could act observant with a particular disability oriented issue did confuse me. There was no possibility of having this op-ed published on The Punch or with any online news publication.

Then one day out of the blue I found myself corresponding with the editor of ABC’s disability media portal, Ramp Up. Her name was Stella Young. 

I came into contact with this feisty, confident but kind, well-grounded disability advocate, comedian, radio presenter, public speaker, writer, teacher, educator, political junkie and then newly-promoted editor of Australia’s first dedicated disability news outlet a few months after my first failed entry into the freelance journalism game. But before she was heading it big with Aunty, she had first taste of success on Channel 31’s disability culture program No Limits as a co-host and panellist for eight years. 

I was a fan of No Limits during late night bingeing sessions shortly after graduating from South Australian School for Vision Impaired in 2004. Yes I was educated in a ‘special needs’ environment. Guilty as charged, except my parents were solely responsible for not enrolling their thirteen year old autistic, closeted gay son to a mainstream high school when they moved back to Adelaide from Sydney in December 1998. 

Not in a zillion years had my imagination imposed a future meeting through countless email messages and a small handful of tweets with this young woman who was born with Ostogenesis Imperfecta and knew how to “dangerously” drive her wheelchair. Going between several information technology courses at Hamilton Secondary College’s Adult Campus in my early twenties, community television eased my insomniac cravings and having a tiny vocal range when political discourse came into focus didn’t dislodge my curiosity in watching No Limits and finally finding real role models who also had disabilities. 

Stella and I never developed a close friendship or were related by blood but social media introduced us as brave Gen X/Y explorers of a new undiscovered world of dissecting disability without actual physical exclusion from those who didn’t see the potential in politicising your life, purpose and identity. 

One simple tweet is why I’m eulogising Stella as the great person she was in life. Twitter only came into the public conscious in the late noughties, through Stella engaged on this medium gracefully when her friends and fans sought to hear her opinion or criticism. I hated failing my own goals in campaigning against disability stigma and thought it was an accident that I was in a position at my local council in its youth advisory committee. Stella thought otherwise: “@jazer1985 A happy accident! Yours is a voice that should be heard. :)”

Stella’s replies to my article drafts that I wrote were reviewed without false appraisal and encouraged a berth of growth in journalistic skill and talent. I did discuss doing a freelance journalism course with TAFE SA Adelaide Arts Centre with Louise Pascale, who works for the South Australian Film Corporation but it fell under disinterest mainly from my end. But as I begin learning about radio broadcasting and production skills at Radio Adelaide for a second time, her prowess will dominate whatever hint of shyness I threat might creep back.        

Her juxtaposition in using comedic grit, wit and political incorrect puns hailed Stella’s determinism and dedication in fighting for autonomy of those who were discriminated because he or she had a disability, impairment or chronic disease. Whenever appearing to speak about injustices, discrimination, pity or inspirational pornography from the able-bodied subconscious on Q&A, Insight, The Project and numerous radio and television programs, Stella spoke from her own brilliant mind where no ableist would dare try to hotwire it. 

But it wasn’t OI that shortened her existence on this planet. That revolts a sheer resilience in future disability advocates, leaders, actors, singers and presenters that her work in changing people’s perspectives on disability is still incomplete. Now as a twenty-nine year old aspiring, unheard “crip” and “openly gay” advocate living in the same unit he moved in after his eighteenth birthday, does turning thirty-two myself hinge a secret fear that I too also face extinction? Not quite because as an atheist I abide to the proverb of enjoying the one life I got. 

So we toast to Stella J Young, who I forever feel thankful for ‘accidently’ admiring my own true political voice. Rest in peace darling gal.