Man, Myth, Mike: Glimpses into the world of disability: A Mike Vaughn post

Hey reader’s of MAN. MYTH, Mike Mondays! The Man himself - the loony, hapless, and visionary author of this blog, Mike Mort - has tasked me with a guest blog for this week’s entry. I have so chosen to accept the blogging celeb-shot and it is with great pleasure that I hope to contribute to an ongoing discussion about disability, perception, and accessibility. My name is Mike Vaughn. I am a current physical therapy student at the University of Maryland-Baltimore, and long-time friend, trivia compadre, and frequent discusser of social issues with Mike M. I recently spent a day wheeling around Baltimore in a manual chair for an assignment as part of my program, and learned quickly the challenges to public accessibility that exist even in some of the more popular, affluent parts of the city.

#sweaterswag and goggs

Disclaimer: This is NOT a sympathy piece. In fact, sympathy towards people with disability is harmful and I hope to communicate that with my brand of creative license. I want to bring up some current issues with accessibility and generally comment on how to collectively better understand disability. It is my hope to affect the perception that disabled people are not disabled because of any physical, intellectual, or language impairment in their own bodies. Rather, it is the society around them causing disability – through the inequality in access and the maladapted attitudes and social norms. As we will see, there are many people with different body impairments who have made extraordinary contributions to society. Unfortunately, for most facing disability, the barriers to access are extensive and the reality of exclusion is widespread. Misperceptions and unjust realities of disability are, luckily, within our grasp to CHANGE. Posthaste, lets get the party started…

People are motivated most profoundly by what they see. The physical image is the most powerful way to conjure emotion and understanding. Photographs are so intensely visceral, immediately having the ability to tug at your core and force a reaction. I feel that the global response (social media and elsewhere) to images of the Baltimore riots in the wake of Freddie Gray’s death is the most recent testament to this. The universality of the physical image is astounding, and I think these images strengthen my case → rock your world. It is from this framework that I introduce an issue in accessibility that may at first seem superfluous or superficial, but is really quite pivotal.

International Symbol of Access (ISA):

Current

Modified ISA (proposed by
disability activists)

This story of symbols starts with a bunch of grass-roots activists in Boston who chose to advocate their message with a touch of healthy vandalism. With spray-paint in hand, these guerrilla artists took to the streets and covered existing handicapped signs with their new icon (right) to spread a message. Their illicit actions began to gain support and soon grew into an international movement, now advocated by the ADA-compliant Accessible Icon Project. The new, emotive ISA conveys a new way of thinking about disability – one that is badass, active, and empowering. This public image takes a baseball bat to the damaging stereotypes of disability and restores dignity. People with disability are not victims, passive, or constrained, and this image has the potential to powerfully affect change in perception.

Above is another example of a captivating, inspirational image. The late comedian, journalist, and disability advocate, Stella Young, argued that this image is actually harmful and exploitative to those with disability. This meme and many other similar media images are what Young referred to as “inspiration porn” in that they objectify a group of people (disabled people) for the gain of another group. Young distinctly remembered a time during her adolescence that she was a victim of this objectification when she was nominated for a Community Achievement Award. Young said in her Ted talk lecture that she went about a pretty normal life and “really didn’t achieve anything if you take disability out of the equation”. Further, she stated that she felt offended by people who would approach her and call her brave or “congratulate me for simply waking up in the morning and remembering my name.” Young encourages people to not treat disabled people as objects of inspiration for simply existing. Rather, she would argue, draw inspiration as you would from any individual – from acts of achievement that warrant inspiration.

Similar to the magnitude of images and symbols, language has a ubiquitous hold on the power of meaning. Healthcare has recently begun to move in what it sees as a progressive direction with the implementation of “People-First Language” in medical journals and in the patient-clinician encounter. People-first language (PFL) puts the person before the disability in order to describe what the patient has, not what the patient is. For example, instead of saying a “Parkinson’s patient,” healthcare professionals are now educated to say “a patient with Parkinson’s.” According to PFL advocates, the previously used “Identity-First Language” classification (i.e. disabled person) places the brunt of focus on the condition and casts the person as a victim.

I am educated to use PFL as a physical therapy student and future clinician, and this linguistic model has become commonplace in the medical institution. HOWEVER, many disabled people, activists, and disability scholars and advocates have responded with strong criticism of PFL. Some opponents of PFL argue that it further stigmatizes disabled people by drawing awkward and unnecessary linguistic labels that are not equally applied to more “normal” individuals. If PFL is more logical and humanistic, then shouldn’t we be calling a gay person “a person with gayness” or a Muslim as “a person with Muslim beliefs?” PFL may be creating new distinctions for a group of people that generate more regressive damage than forward, inclusive progress. The implementation of PFL is a contested social issue and it may be useful to ask people what their individual preference is.

I recently participated in an Adapted Sports Day hosted by Baltimore Adapted Recreation and Sports and had the unique opportunity of talking with two guys with paraplegia. Ventura Catala had a fascinating background – he served as a paratrooper and operated an M203 grenade launcher rifle attachment during US military conflicts with Grenada and El Salvador in the 1980s, he suffered a spinal cord injury due to a parachute malfunction during his service, has since engaged in research in astrophysics (dark matter, string theory, quantum mechanics, etc.) and participated competitively in a number of adapted sports. His knowledge of spinal cord injury and medicine in general is far greater than my own, but he said something that really struck me. While eating his lunch, he looked up and said, “You know what the worst part about being in a chair is? …Always spilling food on myself! HAHAHA! I can never fit under any of the tables at restaurants!” At first I thought, “Really?? That’s the worst?”

It then occurred to me that people are always seeing Ventura – a decorated veteran, a competitive athlete, and a progressive intellectual and researcher – as a slob, and it is something he has little control over. I find Ventura’s anecdotal spilling problem to be emblematic of larger issues with accessibility and perception. Accessibility is a difficult fiscal challenge for businesses and public venues as well as an implementation and enforcement issue. It may be useful to keep an eye open for inadequate accessibility in buildings around you and advocate at the grassroots level, like the Accessible Icon activists. Write a letter to a restaurant or bar if you notice a point of difficulty for someone in a wheelchair, or simply talk to a manager. If you have the chance to use a wheelchair in public, DO IT, you may understand some of the difficulties from a physical perspective. It definitely opened my eyes.

Being diagnosed with a disability can be a very devastating psychological trauma for some, this is the reality. Pity and sympathy are natural human reactions to this. I’m going to pull a classic blog maneuver and bring Nelson Mandela into the equation. Mandela faced hopelessness and physical confinement after being sentenced to life imprisonment for his role in the fight for freedom and an end to apartheid in South Africa. Mandela and his fellow prisoners referred to the prison on Robben Island as the “University” and tirelessly researched, debated tactics, and learned the language (Afrikaans) of their oppressors even when there was no realistic chance of release from prison in sight. Mandela’s vigilance remapped the contours of human progress and thought, and this was all accomplished from 27 years in a prison cell.

It’s time to flip the script in perception of disabled people/people with disability. Let’s think instead that these are people with ability. Mandela chose to be a person of ability, despite his physical confinement. I think society (myself included) needs to throw away any assumptions and preconceived notions about the restrictions of a disability and replace them with the potential of ability. At the same time, remember that disability is a reflection of the (fixable) barriers erected by society, NOT the reflection of a diminished potential for achievement among individuals with various physical impairments.

I am just beginning to involve myself with discussions involving disability and am by no means an expert, so please add your comments/criticisms below. I would be very grateful for any feedback. Meanwhile, check out some people with ability: