Annie in wonderland

I’ve had a lot of questions lately about why I don’t dive into “on-the-ground activism” in the disability community. While I respect the passion behind it, my approach centers on accountability, respect for support staff, and a focus on the bigger picture. Here’s why I’ve chosen a different path. Accountability vs. Excuses In my experience, accountability is often misinterpreted as negativity. My approach emphasizes responsibility, transparency, and a willingness to learn from mistakes. Yet, I’ve noticed that when I bring up the need for accountability in disability support structures, it often rubs some people the wrong way. Instead of acknowledging areas where we could improve, disagreements are often dismissed as ableist. But accountability isn’t criticism for the sake of it—it’s a crucial part of ensuring that services work as they should. Respecting Support Staff A big part of advocacy should be about building respect and understanding for support staff, who work hard within the l

On our recent visit to Spring Bluff Railway Station, one spot held a particular magic: the old hall. It’s a place where countless couples have left their mark over the years, their names and dates scratched into the wood in quiet tribute to their love. Each inscription is a snapshot of a moment, perhaps a proposal, an anniversary, or just a day filled with joy. These names, while technically graffiti, add a special layer of charm and history to the space. Each one is a little love letter from the past, and the hall wouldn’t be the same without them. As you wander around Spring Bluff, it’s clear that this station has character at every turn. Just beside the hall, there’s an old tank—worn and slowly succumbing to time. Although it’s collapsing, removing it would mean taking away part of the charm that makes Spring Bluff feel so unique. It’s these aging structures, with their stories etched in rust and wood, that make Spring Bluff an irreplaceable piece of history. We’re already planning