eSCAping Type 1

Half the reason I became a high school teacher is to do my part in reducing the number of ignorant adults in this world.

My students knew, probably because I repeatedly told them, that my primary goal was to make sure they were good human beings. Of course I cared if they could analyze fiction, but the point in learning that is so they could analyze real people and events.

You’d be surprised at the number of adults who can do no such thing. Who don’t analyze situations before speaking. Who see someone with a disability and take staring to a whole new level.

Which brings me to my first point! When referring to someone with a disability, always use people-first language.*

For example, it’s better to say “a child with Autism” than “an Autistic child.” I have a disability, but I’d rather not be defined as a “disabled person” because it makes it seem like that’s all that I am. I am a human being who happens to have a disease. Let’s be sure to use language that reflects that.

And that’s not just a personal qualm, it’s actually something I was taught in a SPED course in college. See? Eternal debt is worth it.

Now, I’ve read some horror stories on things people do or say that are far worse than anything I’ve encountered.

Like pushing a stranger in a wheelchair up a ramp without asking and just saying “VROOM!” because making an airplane noise proves you’re just being fun and helpful and not at all invading an adult’s privacy.

Or ignorant comments like the one that inspired this awesome post about normalizing disability: https://www.mydarlinglifewithfa.com/normalizing-disability/

Mine aren’t that bad.

Like one time, when I was still too stubborn to use a mobility aid, my friend was giving me a piggyback ride so I could easily keep up with the bachelorette party we were with. As we were exploring a casino, a security guard stopped us to say I had to walk. This poor guy instantly had 15 girls yelling at him that I couldn’t walk because of my disease…

To which he responded, “Oh, okay, well, take your medicine.” Um? Great advice, pal. I’ll get right on that.

We just laughed at him and moved on to find our own form of medication, but I do hope he felt stupid.

Let me say I don’t actually own a wheelchair yet. When I get tired of walking now, I sit on my rollator and whoever I am with pushes me. (Something you are NOT supposed to do! Sorry!) It looks funny because I’m facing the person pushing me.

So, (maybe because of that?) I get A LOT of, “I wish I had someone to push me around all day! Must be nice!”

Now, there are many words I can use to describe having SCA, but “nice” is not one of them.

Not a mean comment, but dumb. And annoying. And said enough that it gets its own blog post.

Keep in mind, I’m literally being pushed whenever I hear this, so I can’t stop and explain to them why I’m not walking, or even respond by telling them what would really be nice (a cure, duh). Just know that my smile is masking a whole bunch of answers.

But just because I don’t verbally respond doesn’t mean I can’t. Which brings me to my biggest pet peeve.

ALWAYS address the person you are talking to (or about), not just whoever they’re with.

If they can’t respond, they won’t! But YOU didn’t automatically assume something and take that choice away from them.

For example, a couple years ago I had to get a bridesmaids dress altered for a wedding I was in, so my sister-in-law came to help me balance while I stood for the fitting. Despite the fact that I had called to make the appointment, said “hello” upon arrival, and introduced myself – the tailor still looked right at my sister and said, “So, when will she need this dress by?” Cool.

Not sure if she even realized how awesome of a response she gave, but my sister automatically said, “Um, she can talk. I’m just here to help her walk.” Most people would’ve answered on my behalf, because they wouldn’t have given it a second thought, and that’s the nice, polite thing to do. However, her response was nice and polite for ME. So, thanks.

I’ll give you another example, because I have ANOTHER example.

More recently, on Road Trip #3.5, my husband and I went to Washington D.C.. At one of the museums, I had a water bottle in my purse. Upon inspection, the security guard saw it, looked at me and said, “You can’t have food or drink inside,” and then without missing a single beat looked up at my husband and said, “Unless she needs it to take medication or something.” Um. Okay.

I responded, “No, we can throw it out,” and we did and moved on and I doubt anyone except me even thought about it. BUT by addressing someone else ABOUT me IN FRONT OF me, that guard made me instantly feel like an incompetent child. And by adding that bit about “medication” just highlighted that not only was I in a wheelchair, I am disabled. I’m sure not an adult human being.

[On a similar note, if you’re ever speaking with someone who has an interpreter, make sure you’re addressing them, not the person who is helping. Remember who your conversation is with; they deserve eye contact even if they can’t hear or understand you. They’re still the one responding, just in a manner you might not be used to. Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.]

People aren’t mean. They’re saying and doing things that they genuinely believe are appropriate.

So, I’ll leave you with the same exact advice I gave my students probably every single day: Empathy is one of the most important skills to have in life. Think before you speak or act. I promise, the world will be a better place if we all do that.

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*Since writing this, I have come across MANY disabled individuals who dislike “person-first language.” Avoiding the word “disabled” gives it a negative connotation, and “disabled” is NOT a bad word. Being called a “disabled girl”‘ should not be seen as a “bad” thing.

I, personally, still prefer person-first language, since I see it as an identifying term with an order of importance (I’d rather be known as Leo’s mom, who has a disability than Leo’s disabled mom).

SO, I was wrong in my initial post. It’s your job to find out what someone prefers; it really never hurts to ask.