By Ellie Mullis
Curiosity is a natural part of human behaviour. Especially when we encounter something unfamiliar, and the disabled community often finds itself at the centre of this curiosity.
Despite progress in accessibility, many places – and people – have yet to catch up with the modern-day standards.
Contrary to popular belief, disabled people are not an entirely different species(!) Spoiler alert: we are human too. Beyond the ability of our limbs or cells, whether we use a mobility aid, or how many chromosomes we have, we deserve the same respect and empathy as anyone does. No more, no less.
Much of this discomfort surrounding speaking to disabled people comes from a mistaken belief that there is a unique language needed to engage in any conversation with us. The intention is often good; able-bodied might feel uncertain and want to avoid causing offence. However, ableism – defined as ‘discrimination in favour of able-bodied people’ – is so deeply ingrained in society that even the best intentions can be harmful. So, I asked the only people qualified on the topic: the disabled community. Here is what you said has got to go…
1. “So, what happened to you?”
It is the
most overused and despised icebreaker: ‘So, what happened to you?’ There
are multiple reasons why this is not okay. Firstly, not everyone who
uses a mobility aid became disabled or sick due to a specific or singular event.
Second; no one is entitled to our medical history without our consent.
Even if something did happen, do you think we want to relive it every
time we go to Tesco? Using a mobility aid is not an invitation to discuss our
lives – we are not up for public consumption or discussion, just by existing.
2. “You’re so inspirational!”
The idea that disabled people are ‘inspirational’ simply for existing is frankly outdated and patronising. While well intended, you do not get to decide how a comment is received, especially if you have not lived the same experience. This mindset stems from the growth of seeing Paralympians framed as motivation with captions like, ‘what’s your excuse?’ As incredible as those achievements are, we do not need to compete or earn medals to counter society’s view of disability. We are not here to inspire just by being ourselves.
3. ‘Differently abled,’ ‘special needs,’ or ‘handicapped’
There is always debate over what term is best to refer to a disabled person and/or a wheelchair user. Believe me, we have heard it all: ‘differently abled,’ ‘special needs,’ ‘handicapped,’ even that disability is a ‘superpower.’ While well-intended, these terms imply there is something inherently wrong with the term ‘disabled.’ We don’t need to villainise a term that at its core is entirely neutral. There are abilities that I do not have, – and that is just a fact. I do not need a magic trait to ‘make up’ for it. ‘Disabled’ and ‘disability’ are not – have never been – dirty words.
4. “Confined to a wheelchair”
Being a wheelchair user is NOT a bad thing. Describing someone as ‘confined’ or ‘bound’ to a wheelchair is wrong and misleading. For many of us, our mobility aids provide the ability to ‘show up’ in the world. It is the exact opposite of being confined: it is our freedom. In fact, one-third of wheelchair users are ambulant, and even full-time wheelchair users (believe it or not!) can get out of their chair occasionally. We are not bound to our wheelchairs; we are forever indebted to the sense of life it has given back to us.
5. ‘Do you really need that mobility aid?’
Which leads us nicely to the one phrase I would be more than happy to never hear again. Granted, it is particularly rife in communications between the older to younger generations, and typically follows some variant of, ‘do you really need that mobility aid?’ I once had someone stop me on the street while using a walking stick, to be tell me I was ‘too young to need one.’ Disability and illness are not discriminatory; anyone can be disabled, regardless of age, gender, or race.
Much of the battle for access feels like a test to prove our symptoms or struggles. Telling someone they are ‘too young’ or ‘too pretty’ (yes, really) only negates their experience. No one on this earth is entitled to dictate whether someone looks ‘sick enough’ to qualify for needing assistance. People do not choose disability, but they do have some say in what aids could potentially help them. That decision is theirs alone.
A great deal of the issues and words that hurt the disabled community stem from a stigma that we did not create. Stereotypes come from outsider’s observations that group us together, when human beings are far more complex than that. Many disabled people are eager to change this and will happily answer genuine questions – but this is at our discretion. Remember: we do not owe anyone anything. Answering invasive questions is not the price we pay for existing in a disabled body (believe me, we pay enough of our own ‘disabled tax’… but that is a post for another day).
We are a resilient group of people. A lot of us developed a sense of humour as a coping mechanism and love to joke about what we live with, because it helps us. Unfortunately, every disabled person that I personally know has had an experience with at least one of these phrases being said to or about them. We are working on overcoming stigma, which takes time and begins with thoughtful conversations.
We will do our part. Time to do yours.
Join Open Road Access and the Rights on Flights campaign for a crucial discussion which will shape the future of air travel. We need to hear from members of the community to create a plan for change and make accessibility not just a promise, but a necessity.