Published August 6, 2025

Yield

Rachel Litchman

To survive as a disabled person, I have to give away so much of myself.

Panel 1: Narration: Recently, I've been reflecting on the dehumanizing bureaucracy disabled people must navigate to get our basic needs met. Image of the narrator, Rachel, walking forward with her arms outstretched in a trance-like state toward an empty slot on the page. An arrow pointing at the slot reads “please place all proof of income, diagnoses, mobility, education, medications, problems with urinating, self-feeding, working, and cleaning your bathtub through this slot HERE.” Rachel is a white person with brown hair wearing a blue sweatshirt, black sweatpants, and polka-dot socks. She wears this same outfit through the rest of the comic.

Panel 2: Narration: The most recent system I had to yield these details of my private life to was paratransit. Rachel walks into an interview room where two chairs are set up at a gray table. Panel 3: Narration: The interviewer assessing my eligibility wanted to know if I could cook or clean my apartment. Rachel sits across from the interviewer, a white, blond woman in a green shirt, holding a clipboard. Rachel speaks to the interviewer: “Um, yeah, I cook.” The interviewer speaks: “What KIND of cooking do you do?”

Panel 4: Narration: I didn’t know what this had to do with my ability to walk long distances required for the regular bus system. Rachel sits inside a dark circle that casts shadows on her. “Um, well, I microwave stuff from Trader Joes,” she says. Panel 5: Narration: I just felt like it was meant to prove my incompetence. The circle around Rachel gets darker and narrower around her body. “And I cook eggs and pasta sometimes,” she says.

Panel 6: Narration: She also asked what I did for fun. Rachel sits across from the interviewer, clutching the edge of her seat uncomfortably. “I do art,” she says. “What kind of art,” the interviewer asks.  “I draw comics,” Rachel responds. Panel 7: Narration: In the context of the interview, “comics” now seemed so childish. Rachel puts her hand to her head. “She probably thinks it’s a bunch of stick figures cracking jokes, and she wouldn’t be entirely wrong,” Rachel thinks.

Panel 8: Narration: She held up several street signs and asked what they meant. The interviewer holds up a red stop sign. Rachel responds “don’t go.” The interviewer holds up a yellow sign with people walking. Rachel responds “people crossing.” The interviewer holds up a yield sign. Rachel responds “Um...” question marks float over her head.

Panel 9: Narration: Yield means the ground falls out from under you. Rachel falls down through a big deep hole in the ground. Panel 10: Narration: The tide of the sea in a state of retreat. Ocean waves retreat, revealing shells, fish, and other ocean life on the sand. Panel 11: Narration: Snow crunching beneath your winter boots. Rachel’s boots crunch through snow Panel 12. Narration: Apple trees, at the height of autumn, ready to give – everything. Rachel reaches up to grab red apples from a tree.

Panel 13: Narration: But this kind of yield? The interviewer continues to hold up the yield sign. Rachel says, ashamed, “I don’t drive so I don’t know.” Panel 14: Narration: Is that what they wanted to prove with all their questions? That because I didn't understand what a street sign meant and microwaved my meals, I was unintelligent. Stupid And therefore pitiful enough to be a deserving. There is a close up of the interviewer and Rachel’s hands. The interviewer is handing Rachel a handout on metro paratransit services. She says, “Here’s more information on paratransit.”

Panel 15: Narration: I must give away - yield - so much of myself and still get very little in return. Rachel reaches her arm up and removes her brain and heart from the top of her head, pulling them out by a string. She hands the strung up heart and brain to a pair of grabbing hands at the edge of the panel.

Panel 16: Narration: I just want to ride the damn bus. The interviewer runs Rachel’s organs through a verification machine, a machine that looks like a paper shredder. Panel 17: Narration: So I can get my damn groceries. The verification machine shreds Rachel’s organs to pieces. Panel 18: Narration: So I can microwave my sorry meals The interviewer hands Rachel back her shredded-up heart and brain on a plate. “Here you go,” she says. “Thanks,” Rachel thinks dejectedly.

Panel 19: An image of a metro paratransit card, certifying that Rachel has been determined eligible. The card reads, “The person identified on this card has been determined ADA Paratransit Eligible in accordance with the provisions of 49 CFR Part 37.”

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