Dear Abled People,

We need to talk about disability. That thing you think goes on in the periphery of your world, somewhere you’ll never have to touch. That jolt of – surprise? Discomfort? Reconstitution? you feel every third blue moon, when a visibly disabled character actually shows up on television... only to impart a nugget of wisdom with some life lesson about inner capabilities, leaving you able to breathe again. That pity, that question game, the jokes, the sanitization. We need to talk about parking spaces and wheelchair ramps, sure, but also captions and deadlines and policies and space-- not spaces, just space.

We need to talk about a lot of things.

You may already be feeling a twinge of discomfort at this point. That’s okay. I’d expect nothing less of you. Bear with me anyway. You wanna know why we need to talk about disability? Because the both of us—the disabled and abled—live in the same world, and that world’s got some catching up to do.

I think a lot of people unconsciously are led to believe that people with disabilities genuinely lead different lives. You imagine a world in which disabled folk get their own, separate things, like parking spaces and braille textbooks and high tech computer programs; wheelchair ramps and lift-equipped buses and line-skip privileges at Disneyland. Sometimes we do benefit from these things, in the same way that seniors get discounted prices and children can order off their own special kids’ menus. But there is not a different world, a different place or means of living, that has been built for us and us alone.

Your world is our world, too.

Let me help you out by clarifying what this means. It means we go to the same movie theaters as you. It means we eat at the same restaurants as you. It means we attend to the same schools, apply for the same jobs, use the same health insurance as you. We shop at the same grocery stores, the same malls. We each are limited to the same 24 hours in every day. “Oh, okay,” you might be thinking. “So you’re saying that folks with disabilities live normal lives.”

BZZZZZZT. (That's my 'Wrong Answer' buzzer sound.)

False! In fact, that’s the problem. While "normal" is a subjective term, we do experience different circumstances and needs. So when we, who have a very diverse set of needs and priorities, are stuck in this singular society which provides for only those standards which are considered normal or mainstream, it’s a big issue.

We go to the same movie theaters as you, and 5 times out of 10, my captioning device doesn't work, so I miss important dialogue or plot points. Or he doesn't know when the scenes with flashing strobes come on, so he stays home to avoid triggering an epileptic seizure. Or the rating screen fails to warn for a portrayal of sexual assault, and they end up rooted to their seat in a dissociative episode of PTSD.

We eat at the same restaurants as you, and I eat nothing but bread because there's nothing else on the menu for me. Or she eats nothing, because everything’s on bread or has gluten or dairy or something else her body can't process. Or ze chokes on hir soda because a judgmental server decided to give hir regular instead of diet, and ze has diabetes.

We attend the same schools, and I struggle to keep up with an ordinary course workload with so little energy and so much time spent recovering from each day. Or ey has to plan for an extra six minutes to and from every class in order to navigate the inconvenient ramps and elevators. Or he suffers a breakdown when the only opening for psychological services is four weeks later than he can wait.

We apply for the same jobs, and I tiptoe the line of firing every time my chronic illness flares up unexpectedly, keeping me home. Or xe can only manage 8 hours a week but doesn’t qualify for enough disability from the government to afford rent. Or she is turned away because she can’t remain standing for 4 hour shifts as required of all cashiers to appear “friendly and alert.”

We use the same health insurance, and my hearing aids aren’t covered. Or his life-saving surgery isn’t covered. Or their pre-existing condition isn’t covered.

Are you starting to see the problem?

We live in your world, and your world fails to accommodate for the diversity of ability that is present in its population. People with disabilities are swept aside, brought out only for inspiration porn where films portray us miraculously overcoming our deficit or conveying some important life lesson to an abled person so they can go on living their life. The fact is, we’re doing all the same things: making friends, going to school, eating, drinking, watching Netflix with a cat on our laps. We have goals and hobbies. We’re everywhere. We’re right where you are, trying to keep up.

A lot of people believe that the purpose of “awareness” is to find a cure for whatever tragic affliction is the focus of any given visibility campaign. Prevent autism! Cure deafness! Eradicate disability! This is just another reincarnation of eugenics, though. Perhaps we could do without cancer or chronic pain, but overall, people with disabilities are not mistakes or examples to be made. The greatest setback is not our disability, but the expectations and limitations set upon us by society. I would be okay with taking four times as long to complete things if my accomplishments were still recognized as equivalent to everyone else’s.

The real reason we need to talk about disability is for you – the able-bodied, the neurotypical, the designated normative.

We need you to remember that we are here; we need you to remember it constantly. We need you to remember it in the movies, at concerts and events, in classrooms, at the doctor’s office, visiting apartments, going to the gym, filing taxes, showing up at work. We need you to be asking, “Is this place accessible? Is that one?” and “Are there accommodations available here?” and “Are disabled voices included in this conversation?” and “Does this represent an actual diversity of ability?” We need you to be designing websites and buildings and syllabi with us in mind; we need you to include us in your plans as you make them, instead of as an extra you add on afterwards.

We don’t need you to speak over us. We do need you to stand with us. We live every day with challenges, so here’s a challenge for you: stop accepting everything that’s suitable for people like you. Start demanding that everything be accessible to everyone.

And hey, maybe you’ll grow to realize that a broader, more accommodating world isn’t just better for us, it’s better for everybody.

Sincerely,