"Differently-Abled, Handi-Capable, and being your hero"

Intro~ 

Differently-Abled 

Let’s talk about the phrase “Differently-abled.” Call me that and I’ll gag internally – unless you’re my friend then I’m gonna full-on mime throwing up. It’s so cringe. I understand the thought process behind it and appreciate that able-bodied people want to advocate for us… 

Poor unfortunate souls 

“Poor Unfortunate Souls” by Pat Carroll, The Little Mermaid 

But the problem is that they’re trying too hard. (Dramatically mimicking how people speak to some disabled people) We are happy that you want to help. We happy. You help. But we can tell you what we need if you just listen. We tell. You listen. Okay? 

If you broke your leg and had a cast on, is someone gonna call you differently-appendaged? When you have the flu, and you’re so sick that you can barely get up to pee, are you going to want someone calling you differently balanced? If you survive tripping on the sidewalk without falling into the grass, do you want to be called someone’s hero or told you have a superpower? It seems ridiculous, right? These are normal difficulties in your life. It’s your day-to-day. If you wouldn’t be inspired by your cousin getting lots of papercuts, what’s different about someone who experiences a lot of sensory overload? I understand that to those who don’t have the struggle, it seems like this big, abstract concept. It’s too far away from you to connect it to your own life. 

It seems incredible that Ariana Grande performed with an ER-worthy fever. Or Vanessa Hudgens finished her performance on Grease Live! after learning her dad had died just hours before. These things seem impossible to me, but that’s how their lives work. It’s the careers they are in. They are in a position where they are expected to follow the “show must go on” mentality. 

Disabilities are difficult, sure, but we don’t need to sugarcoat it. It’s kind of condescending. It’s stressful for any adult working in this economy but we’re not going to have a cutesy nickname for the “differently-employed” who need more than one job to pay rent. Everyone has their own stress, and all of it’s valid. No one’s issues can be compared in totality. Situationally, a wheelchair user has it harder than a single mom when it comes to a staircase. But you cannot compare the full lives of the two parties. 

Claiming I am “differently-abled” doesn’t make me feel empowered. I feel like a show for others to feel good about themselves. I’m just a charity case, so they feel less bad about never recycling. Does that sound like a superhero? Not really. It just seems almost exploitative.

I’m all here for doing your best to help those in minority groups. That’s great, but we need to listen more before thinking. “Separate by equal” seemed pretty anti-racist to the whites at the time, but we know nowadays that it was a ploy to keep down anyone who looked different than them. Minorities don’t need to live completely different lives. We just need an occasional helping hand to breach the gap. I can’t talk for people of color, being that I am white-as-printer-paper and not formally educated in the subject. Still, there are great examples throughout history to analogize. 

I also would like to remind all my listeners, regardless of how much of my podcast you’ve consumed, that I am not an expert on anything I talk about. These episodes speak to my own experience and what education I’ve had on the topics I discuss. There are probably some people out there who like being called “differently-abled,” and that’s perfectly okay. I consider the r-word an offensive slur, but there are some who fit the category and use it with pride, just like queer rhetoric. Sure, it bothers me personally, but I need to let others live their lives. 

Ad Break~ 

Person-First Language 

In this day and age, you’ve probably heard of person-first language. If not by that name, you may know it in practice. I’ve been corrected many times to call myself “a person with autism” instead of “autistic.” First of all, I’m going to say that regardless of what’s commonly agreed upon as correct, the individual is the only one who gets to decide their identity. It’s wrong for those to correct me when I identify as autistic instead of a “person with autism.” It would be wrong to correct someone vice versa. I know some queer people who identify with the f-slur for homosexuals. That’s how they see themselves, so I respect it. I don’t personally like that word, and it’s not socially acceptable, but that means diddly squat if someone chooses to take back the power of slurs for themselves. 

Person-first language is the most common public opinion of the disabled population. It’s easy for me because I share the same thinking, but I know not everyone does. If everyone had the same train of thought, this podcast would be a complete waste of time. 

An argument that I heard once on TikTok from an autistic creator (I don’t remember which one; I’ll link the video in the description if I ever find it again), but it’s my favorite to quote. It goes something like: 

“If you need to speak in a certain way to remind yourself that I am a person, then you’ve got bigger problems than my disability.”

I know that autism isn’t all I am. Being blonde-haired and blue-eyed doesn’t completely dictate my personality either, but it is a part of me. I know that I am a person with autism. That’s what “autistic person” means. A yellow banana is a banana that is yellow. That’s grammar for you. 

Again, I want to thank you for trying to advocate for disabled people, but it’s too much and not enough. It’s a widow immediately marrying a new groom to give their child a replacement dad. They miss their dad, and their mom is trying, but that’s not what’s going to help them through their grief. Can you tell I spend a good amount of time on Reddit with this example? It’s an all-too-common topic there. 

Before my autism diagnosis and formal education about disabilities, I used to refer to my sister Abigail – who has cerebral palsy – as my “special needs sister.” My mom makes fun of me now because I fit the “special needs” label more than she does. When I was in my all-girls Catholic high school, my theology teacher from junior or senior year corrected me every time I brought up Abi. She would say sternly, “sister with special needs,” instead of letting me call her my “special needs sister.” This aggravated me to my core because my sister is nonverbal and cannot advocate for herself to strangers. I have a connection with her enough that I can understand her feelings on topics. She is why I got my BA in Speech-Language Pathology before I started my advocacy journey, but that’s a story for another episode. Even before I was as well-versed in advocacy, I knew that correcting a person on how they identify — or, in my case, correcting me on how I identify my sibling — was not acceptable. 

We are who we are 

“We R Who We R” by Kesha, Cannibal 

Ad Break~ 

Disabled is NOT a bad word 

This is a hill that I am willing to die on 11 out of 10 times. This is my giant @ss soapbox that I refuse to vacate. Disabled. Is. Not. A. Bad. Word. It is a description of people who have difficulties that aren’t seen as the “norm” in our society. That’s it. It’s not an insult. It’s not a putdown. It doesn’t suggest that those it describes cannot live or do things independently. It is just a vague, descriptive word used so we can tell the difference between the typically-expected abilities in people and those that need aid on a daily basis. Boom. That’s it. 

The only negative connotation the word “disabled” has was created by the judgment of able-bodied individuals. I am very passionate about this. I am so sick of being told I’m not disabled because I’m doing great or that I shouldn’t call myself that because I’m more than the difficulties in my life. Thank you for the attempt and support, but no. I am disabled. It describes a huge part of my being and gives an explanation as to why I have some bigger difficulties than my peers. It makes me acceptable within society. By that, I mean that I feel like I’m a part of

something instead of feeling ostracized. I am perfectly me because I’m disabled. I am not something that needs to be fixed. I am my own demographic that just needs accommodations. 

The word “disabled” gives me power – more power than any cute nickname you come up with. Yeah, it sucks a lot of the time, and sometimes I do wish I could be “cured,” but everyone has moments where they don’t want to be who they are. Some people are the darkest or lightest person in their family and feel like that sets them apart. Some people aren’t shaped the “right way” to look good in what’s current in fashion. Some people aren’t attracted to someone who, on paper, seems like the perfect partner for them. There’s a time in everyone’s life when they want something to change, but that doesn’t take away how powerful it is to be yourself. 

My name is Emily Kay BLEEEEEP, and I am disabled, loudly and proudly, for as long as I shall live. 

Outro~"Differently-Abled, Handi-Capable, and being your hero"