The Isle of Avalon (Credit: BBC)
Some lovers of folklore and historical fiction may recognize the name “Avalon.”
It brings to mind Arthurian legends of Camelot, Guinevere, Merlin and The Round Table. According to the lore, it was a place of equality and fairness, honour and respect. An ideal community where people worked together for the greater good and could be both celebrated and safe.
Avalon was also the mystical place King Arthur went to convalesce after being wounded in battle. And since it’s is also where Excalibur was forged, what better times than the ones we’re living in right now to seek a symbolic sword for the battles yet to be fought? For those who enjoyed The Mists of Avalon, this feminist literary nod is for you.
Finding Avalon, my new indie podcast that amplifies Disabled voices, represents a place like this – a place of community woven with truth, dignity, healing and unity. Somewhere we can safely rest and reflect, while gathering ourselves for the next battle.
I liked this concept because I enjoy folklore and storytelling, and because living with disability requires you to be both a dreamer and a fighter. I’m also attached to the name “Avalon” because it’s where I’m from.
In my Avalon, icebergs slip silently by the rugged shorelines of Irish and English fishing villages. Whales breech, heaving their giant bodies out of the sea. Gentle caribou wander about, camouflaged in the mist. Visitors marvel at the mystical feel of the place and the surprisingly well preserved traditions, music and language from settlers long ago who survived because of tenacity and a strong sense of community.
Named for the same legendary place of refuge, the Avalon Peninsula was the site of the first English colonies settle in North America. Here, the “Colony of Avalon” was established, perched on the cliffs and coastlines of what’s now called Newfoundland, Canada.
Long before, however, this massive North Atlantic island was called Ktaqmkuk, the home of Indigenous peoples since time immemorial – and it remains the unceded, traditional and ancrestral territory of the Beothuk and the Mi’kmaq.
I grew up with the word “Avalon” holding significant meaning. Like the Mists of Avalon of lore, the fog that settled over the island where I grew up always felt safe and comfortable, shrouding us from the outside world. We were blanketed in our strength and resilience, and able to survive harsh environments because of our pioneering spirits and the power of community. Most came to escape religious persecution and famine in the UK and Ireland, starting over with nothing, seeking a safer, better life.
Romantic mists and tightly knitted society aside, even the most stunning and serene islands can feel isolating. Especially if people are afraid of unfounded stigma and stereotypes, and those who are different are misunderstood and kept on the outside. Human beings are not meant to be islands inside, but the loneliness of living with disability or chronic illness can feel that way – and the isolation and alienation of not being included by your community makes it all the harder.
Any place there are humans who form communities, there is fear of what they can’t understand. Fear must be confronted and replaced with knowledge and empathy. When it comes to disability, change and understanding can be sparked by authentic representation, stories and guidance. Normalizing disability inclusion, proactively listening to and respect Disabled people’s experiences, and seeking out the wisdom in these perspectives only stands to benefit everyone in our communities.
That’s why stories are powerful tools to connect to our humanity, teach us something new and make us reflect on how we can make the world better.
Come part the mists of misconception around Disability with Finding Avalon, the podcast that amplifies Disabled voices. Learn how together we can fortify an inclusive community through both self-advocacy and allyship, honouring disabled people for their unique and intrinsic value. I’ll be featuring disabled, chronically ill and neurodivergent changemakers, leaders, activists, creatives, educators, carers and everyone in between (with a few surprises too)!
It’s my hope that, story by story, we can bring disability representation out of the mist and into clear view, while building a safe place free of harmful myths, where everyone belongs. Together, we can find our Avalon.
Jennifer Barnable: Storyteller, Disability Advocate 
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