Demystifying Disability: What to Know, What to Say, and How to Be an Ally

by Emily Ladau

Privilege refers to advantages some people have in comparison to others because of identities that they do or do not have.

To most nondisabled people, the idea of becoming disabled is pretty scary. I get it. It’s natural to fear the unknown, and it’s tough to grapple with the idea that our bodies can change in ways beyond our control. Unfortunately, these fears often translate to stigma against disabled people, because it can be challenging to accept that another person’s reality may become one’s own. This is why we need to have open, honest conversations about disability. We need to reframe these fears and turn them into an understanding of disability as part of the human experience.

When disabled people can fully use and experience a product or service, that’s accessibility. When disabled people can occupy and move about a space freely, that’s accessibility. And when accommodations are provided to ensure that both of these things are possible for disabled people, that’s accessibility.

But that’s often the reality of being disabled. We’re shut out or excluded because the world is not designed for us.

Because of inaccessibility, I’ve been disinvited from hanging out with people who called themselves my friends. I’ve been on dates that were disastrous because of accessibility issues. I’ve been turned away everywhere from bars to potential new doctors’ offices because of inaccessibility. It’s tiring, to say the least. Over and over, I hear the same excuses about why implementing access just isn’t possible. It’s too expensive. It’s too much effort. It won’t look nice. There’s not enough time. That’s not our job. And then there’s the classic excuse: “People with disabilities don’t really visit this location/shop here/apply for jobs with us/attend this event, so what’s the point of accessibility anyway?”

You don’t need to start overthinking everything you say or do. That just makes things weird. Disability etiquette isn’t about tiptoeing around us and treating us like strange, delicate flowers. (In fact, that’s pretty ableist in and of itself.) It’s about treating us like full and equal human beings.

if you’re not sure whether you should ask something, here’s a good rule to follow: If you wouldn’t ask a nondisabled person the same question in the same context, don’t ask a disabled person.

A video of a paralyzed person getting out of a wheelchair for the first dance at their wedding reception will melt people into a puddle. A video of a person with Down syndrome getting a high school diploma brings tears to people’s eyes. Why? Because of a deeply held stigmatizing belief that disability holds people back from a full life. Granted, the idea of what a “full life” looks like can be, in and of itself, a pretty rigid concept based in ableist ideas of what’s normal. But many, many disabled people can and do reach various life milestones, and it shouldn’t be sensationalized.

There’s an interesting contradiction that regularly surfaces in media showing disabled people: we’re held to either very high or very low expectations.

So when you come across media that involves a disabled person, instead of falling for the trap, pause for a moment and ask yourself Is this a positive representation of disability that humanizes disabled people, or does this media just use disability to play to emotions? Am I inspired because someone with a disability actually did something truly inspiring, or does this feeling stem from ableist ideas about disabled people? If your answer in each case is the latter, try to avoid clicking. Don’t share—or maybe do share, but call it out. This is how we start to shift attitudes and make real change.

A game of pretend won’t help you understand a person’s entire life experience and identity. In fact, simulations often have the totally opposite effect on participants, evoking feelings of pity and fear around disability.