Flexible lot, we humans. Or at least, so we like to think.
The social model of disability notes that it isn’t physical/mental/psychological/etc. impairments that seriously disable a person. What causes disability is the failure of our communities to adapt to those impairments, to make allowances for them, to fit us in.
There are a few respects in which the social model doesn’t quite work for me – there are no adaptations that anybody could make that would make me able to work full-time outside the home with this level of fatigue, for instance. But there is a lot of truth to it, and a very important point to be made.
The assumption of our society, in which being “abled” gives one significant privilege over those who are not, is that people with disabilities are an aberration, a break from the norm. The adaptations and allowances needed to include those with disabilities are easily seen as a drain on energies and resources, as, frankly, just that little bit too much to ask. Not as the moral right of “normal” people. The perception is that the disabled are a small minority. Add to that the insistence within our culture that there is no middle ground between a grumpy, resentful, “bad” disabled person and a self-sacrificing, “brave” saint who never complains, and you have a deeply fucked-up situation.
It would be fucked-up even if we really were a small minority. However, we’re really not. I’m not going to go into facts and figures now because it is late, and I’d rather quote no figures than the wrong ones. But I think it is fair to say that between physical impairments, mental illness, psychological disorders and learning difficulties, most of us will at some point in our lives suffer from some kind of disability. In fact, the only way to avoid it is to die very suddenly, at a sufficiently young age that none of physical or mental effects of advanced years have yet started to appear. As a thirty-one year old with a walking stick I may be unusual; as an eighty-one year old I would be unremarkable, or even unexpectedly hale. There is a reason why a lot of disability activists use terms such as “Temporarily Able-Bodied” (or “TABs”) to describe people without disabilities. I find those terms somewhat problematic unless I can be certain that the user is counting mental illness, learning disabilities and so forth under bodily impairments, but they still carry an important lesson.
So, what of all of this? Well, a couple of things. Firstly, if you campaign now for better wheelchair/scooter access in your town you may well feel the benefits of that when you are elderly, though I hope that’s obvious. Likewise large-print and audio books in your local library, depression support groups and other facilities, ideally free at the point of delivery.
But primarily what I’m getting at here is that our attitudes as a society towards adapting to the particular needs of individuals within it are in need of a complete overhaul, and a vast injection of flexibility and compassion. Nor do I just mean on an official level, though of course that is an enormous part of it. I mean within social networks, groups of friends, relationships.
Take my friend A, who is a lifelong vegetarian and has coeliac disease. She also loves good food and company, and there is in fact plenty of lovely stuff she can eat, it just isn’t always what people are used to cooking. She is fortunate to have many friends (including myself when I’m well enough to cook, which sadly isn’t very often) who regard catering for those with unusual dietary requirements as an enjoyable challenge, and an invitation to creativity, not as a burden. But the very fact that this is worth remarking on is, frankly, deeply depressing.
Take me. I (obviously) can’t attend late-night social events in the middle of London, especially on a busy night. I sometimes have to cancel my attendance at events at short notice because of an M.E. flare-up. My anxiety disorder is such that conflict can incapacitate me for days, and even the most constructive of criticisms have to be worded carefully to avoid triggering a panic attack. Friends of mine have to allow for these things because I simply cannot function if they do not.
Take my lovely boyfriend. Along with depression and a couple of other things, he has a very serious phobia of smoking and all things smoking-related. He also has PTSD due to an incident at a popular local pub a year or so ago: he now can’t go there, and gets stressed when the place is even mentioned, even though he knows and likes the people who run it. To have a good social life, he needs friends to allow for these things – to not hold all social events at that particular pub, to avoid smoking or preparing to smoke in his vicinity, and so forth.
As many within our society currently view it, all three of us are making unreasonable demands on our friends. I would regard that as an offensively ableist view, obviously. But also a broken one for other reasons.
Let’s add on all the other friends I have with special dietary requirements, physical and/or psychological disabilities – a few of those, with some overlap. And then add those who, say, have particular topics of conversation which are just upsetting for them, or who can’t stay late because they need to get home to the children or the dog. Add LGBT people who may feel unwelcome in certain environments and want to socialise where they know they will be safe. Add those who need their friends to allow for when they are working late or they need to visit their elderly relatives. Add those who are not necessarily disabled, but who are not neurotypical and thus benefit greatly from being communicated with in a certain style that might not be familiar to the communicator. And those are just my friends, a small-ish, young-ish group, ranging from 20-odd to 40-something, for the most part. I am certain there are large numbers of other sorts of allowances friends may need to make for each other, in the short to long-term, both that I’ve forgotten and that I’ve not thought of.
Getting somewhere, am I? Now calculate, if you will, your chances of getting through this life and never having to ask your friends to make allowances for you and your needs.
And the thing is – that shouldn’t be an awful thought. Making life easier for our friends and helping them find our friendships and the world around them more accessible should not be a rare or remarkable thing. It can be complicated, especially when there are lots of adaptations to make at once, but if we’re all working on together then it’s just another challenging and enjoyable and ordinary part of life. We are not a world full of people with no problems, no difficulties, no disabilities. We are a diverse and wonderful people, us humans, and we’ve come so far partly because we’re good at being flexible and we’re good at being strange and because we’re good at looking after each other. So, yeah. Let creativity and compassion reign in our friendships, and in our lives generally. Go that extra mile, and stock that vegan spread and those herbal teas that you don’t drink but your friend does, and check out the wheelchair access and creche facilities at your party venues. And then let’s spread it out wider and try to change our cultural attitudes towards people who need help, and accessibility, and allowances to be made. Because all of these things are normal, and this is what life is supposed to be about. 🙂
Postscript:
After all that ranty idealism, this is not to say that I don’t feel horribly guilty when my friends (and partners) have to make these sorts of allowances for me. Of course I do. I have low self-esteem and of course I’ve internalised all of society’s myths about how heroic and non-complaining and no-trouble-to-anyone I should be. But I do think I should try to feel less so, and encourage others to do the same. Gratitude and reciprocity are much more sensible and much more fun. 🙂
Fabulous article, and I wouldn’t call it ranty at all! You really manage to get the proportion thing across without having to revert to probably-dodgy figures, too.
(This is a certain scarf-sending lobster in disguise. I’m trying not to refer to my main online name on WordPress since I’ll be referring family and so on to the sleep blog here, and in fact have just sent a link to my eye specialist.)
Awesome article, much agreement!
This is brilliant and neatly identifies the source of some unease I’ve been feeling with a lot of discourse around disability and adaptation. Thank you so much for writing it.
*agrees*
It was definitely a bit of an eye-opener to me when I had a baby, and needed to get along pavements, round shops etc. with a pram. From barely registering them, I suddenly became extremely aware of ramps, obstructions on the pavement, automatically opening doors etc. (and grateful for the existence of disability-access legislation which meant that lots of places had introduced step-free access, wider doors and so on).
Excellently put!