It is, the internet tells me, Disability Pride Month.
Disability is a topic I’ve read and thought about a lot lately, and ableism too.
Consciously or not, we often treat “disabilities” as a flaw in a person, like they didn’t try hard enough and should be ashamed. There is societal judgment and resentment, like they’re a burden. Like they are lesser humans. Like they should be grateful for “support” that fails to meet their basic needs. Like it wouldn’t be such a big deal if they just died.
One useful term I’ve learned from disability advocates is “pre-disabled,” which refers to people who are currently “able-bodied” but it’s only a matter of time. Disabilities increase with age, and long covid will disable many more.
Phrased differently, the term “pre-disabled” emphasizes that being able to function without accommodation in the world as it is set up is a temporary state. Instead, we treat it like a virtue.
Which brings me to the difference between the “medical” and “social” models of disability.
The “medical” model tends to be the conceptual default: the “disability” is situated in (is a “flaw” in) an individual’s body. Medical professionals are positioned as the gatekeepers of accommodation under this model. Often the disabled person has to meet ableist standards to get even a shred of help. Many report experiencing scorn and judgment from medical gatekeepers, rather than support and understanding.
In contrast, the “social model of disability” recognizes that the problem lies in the disconnect between an individual’s needs and how society is structured:
For many people with disabilities, the main disadvantage they experience does not stem directly from their bodies, but rather from their unwelcome reception in the world, in terms of how physical structures, institutional norms, and social attitudes exclude and/or denigrate them.
“Rethinking disability: the social model of disability and chronic disease,” Sara Goering, 2015.
Society could choose to design things inclusively, for a variety of bodies and experiences, rather than accommodating only a narrow subset of humanity and demeaning and abandoning those who don’t fit. But that would take thoughtfulness and – heaven forbid! – sometimes even budget.
Society is not becoming more compassionate towards people who don’t fit. The pre-disabled would do well to think about how they themselves want to be treated when they’re no longer able to meet standards of productivity. Perhaps Disability Pride Month is a good time to start that work.
I feel like there is a split – other people with chronic illness and disabilities are very supportive of each other, but you’re right, the more-abled word tends to ignore us.
The more advocacy the better – so yay you for doing this post!
(I live with chronic migraine which is an invisible disability and tends to be treated as people being ‘neurotic’ rather than recognizing it as a neurological disorder).
Linda xx
Thank you! Chronic migraine sounds miserable, and I wish more people chose understanding and compassion as a response.