Dis-ability
This weekend, Miguel and I had the honor of attending The Nora Project’s annual gala and it was altogether perspective-changing. I think a lot of us get on our soapbox of choice and talk about disability and inclusion, but often fall short of fully executing (myself included). On Sunday evening, I was able to see what a truly inclusive event can look like. What it truly means to practice what you preach.
From the moment we entered we were asked if we would prefer to take the stairs or the elevator. Even though Miguel and I are two seemingly healthy individuals, no assumptions were made, the question was asked. After all, not every disability is visible (more on that later). Once we were sat at our table, I noticed a scannable QR code that would provide attendees with a closed captioning for the entire event. Then each speaker or presenter that came up to the stage described what they looked like, what they were wearing and where they were standing in front of for the benefit of the visually impaired guests in the audience.
The Nora Project didn’t just stop at accessibility though, they went for full representation and inclusion. The emcee, the incomparable story-teller Kevin Kling is physically disabled, one of the honorees, the talented and magnetic Lachi is blind, and one of their presenters used an Augmentative and Alternative Communication device or AAC to introduce the honorees.
I suppose this level of inclusion is to be expected from an organization whose mission is to “promote disability inclusion by empowering educators and engaging students and communities.” But maybe we should begin to expect disability inclusion at all events because guess what? Around 25% of Americans have some sort of disability.
In a world where are still struggling to walk away from phrases like ‘special-needs’ and still view the word ‘disability’ with a negative connotation, I was struck by Kevin Kling’s breakdown of the word during his opening remarks during the event:
“…It that starts with “dis-”. When you read Dante… he goes to Dis, it’s the underworld. I think there’s quite a connection between the underworld and having a disability, because — well, as Dante puts it, Dis is the underworld. It is the place of shadow and reflection, where you round off the rough edges of torment and desire: you go to this world of Dis. And it’s the prefix for “disability,” which doesn’t mean “un-ability,” it means “able through the world of shadow and reflection.” And so, it’s just another way of doing things.”
Another way of doing things.
Not a special way, or a wrong way, or a less convenient way, just another way.
I don’t think I can stress enough how incredible it was to see inclusivity, or maybe belonging is a better word for it, in action. It was such a striking contrast to how blatant disability stigma prevails in our everyday lives and the clear affect it has on the disabled community. There are a few simple steps we can take to help reduce stigma and build belonging, to create empathy and foster understanding. And then as if she could read my mind Linda Beresford responded to my call for guest bloggers. Her post felt kismet:
I read the words “the hidden disability of disabilities” in an article the other day, referring to a certain type of therapy for individuals to process traumatic events. The author of the study I was reading, is himself physically disabled and is also a medical practitioner and was discussing the results of the therapy. I found the words almost mesmerizing... “the hidden disability of disabilities.” To me, it conjured the idea that to have a physical disability is, in and of itself, one thing, but along with the life one lives with that physical disability and everything it entails, it turns out one may find a host of other disabilities in addition to the one that is “seen.”
If you know anything about me, you know that I am passionate about advocating for people with disabilities, particularly my daughter, who has not just one, but a few disabilities. While I find her to be the strongest person I know, I also see the affects her disability has had on many facets of her life. Her entry into this world was rough and there have been numerous rough patches throughout her life, both physical and emotional. They have taken a toll.
What I have come to realize, and it’s taken me a lot of years, is that I have always focused on the “seen” part of the disability. I have worried about, and advocated for, things mostly related to my daughter’s physical struggles. But she has endured so many other challenges, from numerous surgeries, multiple kinds of therapies (ie physical, occupational, speech, etc), different forms of discrimination, and people telling her she would never amount to much…all of which has led to different kinds of disabilities that I don’t feel I paid enough attention to. I was always thinking about the physical ones. And while it’s never too late, I do wish I had paid better attention sooner and given her more of what she needed to protect her and build her up from all those other hurdles.
The point of all of this, if there is one, is to pay attention, even to the things you may not see. It’s easy to recognize what someone is dealing with when you can see it. When you can’t see it, it’s not so easy. Ask questions, pry, be attentive and use your instincts. Get help if you think you need it, help for yourself or for someone else. Never assume. Be kind. Everyone is struggling with something.
- Linda Beresford
Subscribe to Linda’s blog on Substack here!
Subscribe to Kelly’s newsletter at the pop-up below!
