Ableism can be defined as bias, prejudice, or discrimination on the basis of disability. Ableism can be intentional or unintentional and is often rooted in the belief that disabled people aren’t as capable or valuable as people without disabilities. Ableist language comes in many forms, including the emotion-heavy language above, euphemisms, backhanded compliments, or pity.
Non-disabled people, who lack direct experience of life with disabilities, often assume that disabled people are, and should be, fearful — in the sense of being timid, risk averse, or weak — as a natural consequence of their disabilities. But when disabled people actually express fears tied to ableism, abusive practices, or bad public policies, they are often dismissed as over-anxious, irrational, or even delusional.
Over the next hour, I heard a dozen personal stories, each as enraging and saddening as the next, but all following a similar theme. During their late teens or early 20s, each of these people were told, usually by a close family member or friend, that they “weren’t smart enough to vote” or it “wasn’t worth the effort to learn”.
We need more people in Parliament with lived experience of disability; who understand what the disability community needs because they’re literally a part of it. We need the disability minister to be a disabled person.
As disabled people, we are too often overlooked, underestimated and dismissed by non-disabled people. Too often we’re met with a “good on you champ”, or there’s a unique type of wide-eye, raised-eyebrow stare that comes when strangers realise the kids you are picking up from school are yours.
While film critics and audiences alike have shouted their praise for this year’s best picture win, CODA, they seem to be ignoring the voices of the Deaf community.
The most painful question I’ve been asked is: ‘How could you bring kids into the world when you find it hard looking after yourself?’ I wish I had answered by saying they have no idea what I can and can’t do, but I was so shocked that instead I was silent.
Attitudes are linked to disability-based discrimination and social exclusion, which in turn impact the health and wellbeing of people with disability. The Centre of Research Excellence in Disability and Health recently conducted the first national survey of community attitudes toward people with disability. The survey, co-designed with people with disability, examined how people in Australia understand disability and their beliefs, attitudes and behaviours toward people with disability in a range of settings including education and employment. In this session, one of the authors of the study, Dr Georgina Sutherland from the Disability and Health Unit, Centre for Health Equity at the Melbourne School of Population and Global Health, discusses the findings of the survey and what they tell us about where we need to focus future effort across individual, organisational and structural levels of society.
Linda Hughes never leaves her son alone in hospital, for fear he might die if he does not get the treatment he deserves. “I certainly know we’ve saved his life in hospital … just by being there when things are going wrong and Jacob can’t push the buzzer or call out.”
Sometimes it seems like the fight against ableism boils down to little more than making sure not to offend disabled people. It certainly helps make disabled people’s everyday lives better if they can get through a day without having to put up with annoying or hurtful comments. But there’s much more to ableism than giving personal offense. Ableist assumptions, ideas, habits and even language are problems worth fighting because they lead to actions that materially affect disabled people’s lives.
Influenza, polio and more have shown that infections can change lives even decades later. Why the complacency over possible long-term effects of COVID-19?
“As well as experiencing violence from family and our partners in our private home, we’re in disability group homes or in mental health inpatient wards. We’ve got disability support workers coming into our homes to do things like help us go to bed and help us shower,” Jen Hargrave from Women with Disability Victoria said.
This resource names ableism and gender inequality as the two consistent, intersecting drivers of violence against women and girls with disabilities. It sets out the actions that must be taken to address these drivers and stop this violence before it starts. It points to the many stakeholders that need to take action – from individuals to communities, schools and workplaces, to disability and health services, and governments. It makes clear that we all have a role to play in preventing this violence.
However, when the COVID-19 pandemic started and suddenly the world moved online, barriers I hadn’t even known existed started to fall away. Now, as we step into a new era of learning, I’m reminded of why discussions about accessibility and considerations for disabled people must remain at the forefront of our minds.
If we don’t recognize and deliberately steer away from ableism in responding to Covid-19, the pandemic will never really end for people with disabilities. Instead of being a two or three year crisis to look back on, Covid could be a major setback for disability rights and justice, and result in a permanent loss of safety and mobility for people with disabilities.