New Yorkers with disabilities and their allies gathered in Lower Manhattan Wednesday night to mark Disability Day of Mourning.
Among them was Ari Dorf, who learned he was on the spectrum at 13 years old. He said the diagnosis was hard for him to accept.
“For me it felt like my entire world is ending,” said Dorf.
What You Need To Know
- Autistic Adults NYC organized a candlelight vigil in Manhattan Wednesday night to mark national Disability Day of Mourning
- This annual day of remembrance highlights victims of filicide nationwide
- Advocates say the term “filicide” holds greater meaning in the disability community. It not only refers to when a parent or caregiver kills their family member, but also how these murders are reported, excused and presented in the media
He eventually found the support he needed through the group Autistic Adults NYC, which organized the candlelight vigil outside City Hall Park.
“It makes you take a look at your own life and what you went through and you realize you’re one of the lucky ones,” Dorf said.
This annual day of remembrance highlights victims of filicide nationwide. According to the Autistic Self Advocacy Network, more than 550 people with disabilities were killed by their parents, relatives or caregivers over the last five years.
“Each and every person had their own life, had their own personality, it’s crazy,” said Nicole Russell, founder of Autistic Adults NYC. “It’s this indescribable feeling of devastating loss in our community.”
Advocates say the term “filicide” holds greater meaning in the disability community. It not only refers to when a parent or caregiver kills their family member, but also how these murders are reported, excused and presented in the media.
“In no way, shape or form should filicide be portrayed as this inevitable thing or understandable,” said Russell.
Hearing the victims’ names was, at times, too difficult for Dorf to bear. But he says there is a light at the end of the tunnel.
“It can get better,” he said. “It may take a while, it could take a couple years, but we need to have hope because if we don’t, what the hell are we doing in this world?”
Dorf says the world opened up for him when he found a supportive community that accepts him for who he is and encourages others with disabilities to do the same.
“I won’t lie. It may hurt the times you get shot down, but by the time you find even one person that gets you, that’s the best feeling in the world,” said Dorf.
Advocates are calling for more equitable and affordable therapeutic services for people's disabilities.
They say they hope through vigils like these, where they can raise awareness and ultimately affect change.