For my SNL sketch writing class, we were supposed to write a sketch at home, bring copies to class, ask a couple classmates to read the sketch aloud and get feedback. On the first day, my sketch had this line in it:
When I have a rough night, I request a gay, black paraplegic. Greta is a terrible driver. But she serves as a gentle reminder that I could have it worse. That keeps me grounded.
And there was a woman in the class who was an attorney for disability lawsuits. She was in a wheelchair. I was sitting right next to her. When it came time for my sketch to be reviewed, I just stared straight ahead and tried to avoid eye contact. The instructor muttered, “I don’t think that line is necessary,” after someone uncomfortably read it out loud. Then he shook his head at me.