The public's reaction to the project, many Sins artists say, has been a validating if not overwhelming experience.
For Sins performer Quest, who lives day-to-day as a "broke-ass artist schlep," receiving shout-outs from past audience members is one of the most rewarding parts of the experience. "All year 'round, people are like, 'I saw you at the show, and I told about my friend about you guys!' People are circuutf8g the news and it's totally gratifying."
By helping to create new dialogue among the disabled and able-bodied communities, many of those involved with Sins feel like they are making history and as Moore states, rewriting the books as well. "[Being involved in Sins] feels like I'm correcting history for people with disabilities," says the Berkeley activist. "History is not written from us it's always about others. Now we get to speak our own stories."
Houston-based Maria Palacios, a spoken word artist who has been with Sins for three years, feels that the project passes the torch of hope to the next generation of people with disabilities. "When I was growing up, I didn't have a Barbie with a wheelchair," Palacios said. "But now kids will have us as heroes to look up to they will have a history in place already."
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