When asked which of my identities (gender, ethnic, socioeconomic etc.) I think about the most, I have no answer. When asked which of them I think about the least, I must admit that I think about being able-bodied the least. In fact, I didn't even think of it so much as an identity, but instead took it for granted.
This summer, atop scoliosis, I injured my lower back, which inhibited me from walking for a short period of time. When I started walking again, I was slow and limping a little. To my sudden realization, I began walking at about the same pace as my grandmother. Although I (along with those who were forced to walk at my new pace) was frustrated at being slower, I experienced a very small dose of what my grandmother dealt with when she was out with the rest of my family: irritation that I couldn't do what I used to do and fear that I was holding everyone else back. I told myself that if I didn't recover before college was back in session, I was going to take a semester off because there was no way I could navigate Princeton's vast campus without walking.
Although I by no means experienced something that those who are disabled (or as some prefer, differently abled) experience, my thoughts led me to investigate ableism. I was somewhat familiar with it on Princeton's campus after having participated in workshop designed to create more access for people with disabilities on Princeton's campus, but thought I should delve deeper into the topic.
Before I start on what I learned about ableism, I read Syracuse University's Language Guide and it listed this awesome blogger who says that "calling someone 'differently abled' is euphemistic. It is borderline cutesy and it diminishes the actual experiences of disabled people. It suggests that the term disability should be uncomfortable and therefore should be avoided. What this does is further increase stigma against disabled people by discouraging discussion about disability and what it means to be disabled". Henceforth, this will be my adopted definition of "disabled" for this discourse, along with trying to use people-first language, which means putting a person before a disability.
Ableism is defined by the Oxford Dictionary as discrimination in favor of people who are able-bodied. It assigns lower value to people with disabilities, and while one may not overtly partake in this insidious way of thinking, the reality is that ableism penetrates our entire world from architecture to language.
Ableism encompasses "practices and dominant attitudes in society that devalue and limit the potential of persons with disabilities" and more specifically, an ableist society is "one that treats non-disabled individuals as the standard of ‘normal living’, which results in public and private places and services, education, and social work that are built to serve 'standard' people, thereby inherently excluding those with various disabilities."
Sometimes I wonder why we ever built things that we knew a portion of the population wouldn't be able to use. Why is our architecture exclusive? Why did we ever build stairs when we could just have had slopes? Isn't architecture supposed to be about our comfort?
Dave Hingsburger said that he thinks of things that are inaccessible as those that purposefully exclude him as a man in a wheelchair. He wrote:
'Purposeful exclusion,' I said, 'there is no way anyone could design this, approve this and build this, without knowing that people with disabilities will never be able to use it. That makes it purposeful. The fact that only certain people can now use it make it exclusion.'
'I'm sorry,' she said but I interrupted.
'This is bigotry in concrete, this is prejudice made of steel and glass, this is how builders and designers and hotel managers spit in the face of those with disabilities. They knew, they didn't care, they did it anyways.'
'I'm sorry,' she said but I interrupted.
'You know I pay the same rate here as anyone else. I don't want something for just me. You folks don't call me and say, 'oh, by the by, we've designed parts of the building to exclude you so let us discount your room rate'. No you expect me to pay and put up with it.'
And it is expected that people with disabilities put up with everything. ANALYSIS
Going back to Mr. Hingsburger's situation, he said that the people who made the building assumed that people with disabilities "didn't have business, didn't have need for contacting others and carrying out responsibilities" and that is another dangerous aspect of ableism: untrue assumptions.
Some assume that a disability will always be visible, but we have to come to terms that that is often not the case. Writer Julie Zeilinger states that "mental illness is hardly the only non-apparent disability. Individuals who experience learning disabilities, developmental, intellectual disabilities and even chronic illness may identify as disabled, for example, but because they are not predominately recognized as such may be denied the help and resources they need."
Ableism comes in many forms, and can't be countered by simply putting up wheelchair ramps. As Tumblr user The (Chronically) Illest posted, "true accessibility accommodates all types of disabilities — not just physical disabilities that specifically bind people to wheelchairs. Accommodations can also include braille, seeing-eye dogs/assistant dogs, ergonomic workspaces, easy to grip tools, [...] class note-takers, recording devices for lectures" and other services".
Disability doesn't look like we think it does and no amount of words could cover all the nuances that should be covered. However, here's a downloadable pdf with guidelines on how to approach people with disabilities (known as disability etiquette), so that's a start!