Here's what I've got for you today: a handy dandy guide to not being ableist. Of course, this list is nowhere near exhaustive; there are about ten thousand ways to be an ally. On top of that, these are based off of my experiences and thoughts - you may meet someone else who isn't able-bodied tomorrow who totally disagrees with everything I'm saying here. But here are a few that have been on my mind...
Watch your language.
"Cripple" and "retard" (just to give a couple of examples) have become incredibly common slang words, and that sucks, because they are offensive terms. People like to argue that the definition of these words have been changed, and so it's socially acceptable to use them in their new contexts. It's the same argument that has been made for saying "gay" instead of "stupid," and it still doesn't work.
So don't use them, and ask other people not to. This is something that I'm bad about. I feel incredibly awkward asking people not to use terms like that out of context, but if no one ever does...how will they ever learn?
Don't touch my shit.
I can't speak for everyone on this point, but when I'm walking with my cane, it's an extension of my body, and it makes me really uncomfortable when people handle it. I definitely know I'm not the only cane-user in the world who shares that sentiment. If you want to play with it, just ask, and I'll probably say yes...but grabbing it off the floor while I'm sitting down and walking around with it is kind of weird. Changing its height is even more weird and inconvenient.
Be respectful, but please don't go out of your way.
That one sounds bad on its own, so here's a story to help illustrate my point: a couple of weeks ago, I went to Starbucks on a day that I happened to need my cane. (My cane, by the way, is awesome, but that's a story for another post.) I was a few feet behind the guy in front of me and he wasn't really paying attention, so he didn't stop to hold open the door. I caught it and was continuing on my merry way...until he realized he'd just dropped a door on a girl with a cane and started apologizing profusely for it. It was sweet (albeit unnecessary and a little awkward), so I just smiled and continued on my way...but I definitely had the urge to tell him that I do, in fact, know how to open doors, even when I'm walking with my cane.
Opening doors for people, able-bodied or not, is super great and respectful, but I'm pretty sure he wouldn't have apologized so thoroughly to someone without a cane. It's easily to make someone feel incredibly awkward if you're clearly going out of your way to do something they haven't asked you to do. Offer if you think there's something you can do to help someone, but don't assume, especially if it's not someone you know well. Assumptions are awkward.
Don't judge a book by its cover.
One of my greatest fears in life is that people who see me take the elevator up a single flight of stairs assume that I'm just being lazy. 65% of the time, I appear able-bodied - no cane, no braces. The other 45% of the time, I might be using any combination of cane, knee brace, ankle brace, back brace...and maybe a couple other things I'm forgetting about. (Occasionally I use them all at the same time.) The large majority of people I'm meeting for the first time don't realize I'm disabled, and every so often someone I'll have known for what seems like forever will see my cane and freak out because they think I've recently injured myself.
Anyway, I have an invisible disability, along with millions of other people. There's even an entire website dedicated to the statement But You Don't Look Sick...which, by the way, is one of the worst phrases ever, in my humble opinion. Anyone can be disabled, and anyone can become disabled. So when discussing ability, directly or indirectly, keep that in mind.
NOTE: As of August 22nd, Adventures in Adultolescence has a new home!
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Thank you. As someone who walks with a cane, I can identify with a lot of what of you've said and it means so much to see someone who feels the same way!
ReplyDeleteRight on, crouton! I don't usually think of myself as "disabled" until my Rheumatoid Arthritis flares and I can barely function and/or am in significant pain. I still wrestle with the elevator conundrum ("people will think I'm just lazy!") even when my knees are screaming. At least your disabilty has a cool, mysterious name---when people hear I have Rheumatoid Arthritis the usual retort is "Well, I have arthritis, too"...as if "regular" Osteoarthritis (which I also have) is the same thing. (Fact: IT IS NOT! My immune system is attacking my joints as if they are aliens. RA is not caused by age or over-use--onset is most common in women ages 20-40.) Ugh! We must continue to politely educate the ignorant. Hang tough, Holly!
ReplyDeleteI have regular arthritis, among other knee problems that contribute to a lot of pain (usually about a 7-8), and I constantly get told that I'm too young to have it (I'm in my early 20s). It's frustrating. It's most definitely not the same as rheumatoid arthritis, and I would be ticked off in your situation too. A agree about cool mysterious names... I just have severely messed up knees, no fancy term at all, they're just busted.
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