Disability Rights California

In January of 2014, a friend said, “Hey, maybe you should apply to be on this board I’m on.” The moment I discovered what it meant to be on the board of Disability rights California http://www.disabilityrightsca.org/, I knew this was the thing I’d been aiming to do my entire life, even if I didn’t know it existed. It was just that right for me.

What made it so perfect? Most of my life, I’ve changed how people thought about disability one person at a time. It was boots-on-the-ground type work, where I was up close and personal with the lives impacted, but I could only change small things, one at a time. Being on a board meant determining broader policies that could change the lives of people I would never meet, advancing the rights of individuals with disabilities on a scale only ever in my dreams.

For two-and-a-half years, I have been on DRC’s board, looking at the big picture. Exposure to other disabilities has increased my overall disability knowledge, but that isn’t really where I’ve expanded my skills. I’ve learned I can look at a balance sheet and more or less understand it. I’ve discovered my inner data geek. I’ve even learned I am good at press interviews. Weirdly good at them.

I tell you all this for a couple of reasons. First, if you are a person with a disability, looking for something meaningful to do with your life, check out your state’s Protection and Advocacy organization, which is the role DRC fills in California. Unlike most other volunteer opportunities, your disability will not get you turned away. Instead, your experience will be valued. Reasonable accommodations, given because you expressed your need instead of fighting a battle, will feel almost luxurious. Finding out that a data geek lurks in your soul is the cheery on the cake.

Second, in my time on the board, I’ve learned nobody knows about Protection and Advocacy organizations (P&A), what they do, or why they exist. Until I joined the board, I didn’t know about P&As. They are mandated by federal statute to fight for the rights of people with disabilities in various categories. The first such statute came about because of ground-breaking work by, believe it or not, Geraldo Rivera back in the 1970s when he smuggled a camera into Willowbrook State School on Staton Island. He captured the country’s attention and outrage when he showed the conditions people with intellectual and developmental disabilities were forced to endure.  As a direct result of this story, the federal government establish the P&A system. Over the years, further funding has been designated to work with other disability populations and on specific topics, such as the Protection and Advocacy for Voting Access.

DRC and other P&As do everything from offering information and referrals to filing individual and class action lawsuits. The ultimate goal is to allow people with disabilities to live, work and play where and how they wish. It’s a tall order carried out by dedicated people every day. I’m lucky enough to be on the board and help decide what the future should look like for people with disabilities.

In January of 2014, a friend said, “Hey, maybe you should apply to be on this board I’m on.” The moment I discovered what it meant to be on the board of Disability rights California http://www.disabilityrightsca.org/, I knew this was the thing I’d been aiming for my entire life, even if I didn’t know it existed. It was just that right for me.

What made it so perfect? Most of my life, I’ve changed how people thought about disability one person at a time. It was boots-on-the-ground type work, where I was up close and personal with the lives impacted, but I could only change small things, one at a time. Being on a board meant determining broader policies that could change the lives of people I would never meet,advancing the rights of individuals with disabilities on a scale only ever in my dreams.

In case you somehow managed to miss it, I love metaphors and similes a wee bit more than is reasonable. In the world of non-profit activism, a board sets a trip’s destination and gives basic parameters, like method of transportation, how much it should cost and how long it should take. An Executive Director takes those “marching orders” and decides the departure time, arrival time, route to take and brings the plan to life. Staff packs the suitcases, fuels the trucks, gets the supplies and makes the trip really happen.

For two-and-a-half years, I have been on DRC’s board, lookking at the big picture. Exposure to other disabilities has increased my overall disability knowledge, but that isn’t really where I’ve expanded my skills. I’ve learned I can look at a balance sheet and more or less understand it. I’ve discovered my inner data geek. I’ve even learned I am good at press interviews. Weirdly good at them.

I tell you all this for a couple of reasons. First, if you are a person with a disability, looking for something meaningful to do with your life, check out your state’s Protection and Advocacy organization, which is the role DRC fills in California. Unlike most other volunteer opportunities, your disability will not get you turned away. Instead, your experience will be valued. Reasonable acccommodations, given because you expressed your need instead of fighting a battle, will feel almost luxurious. Finding out that a data geek llerks in your soul is the cheery on the cake.

Second, in my time on the board, I”ve learned nobody knows about Protection and Advocacy organizations (P&A), what they do, or why they exxist. Until I joined the board, I didn’t know about P&As. They are mandated by federal statute to fight for the rights of people with disabilities in various categories. The first such statute came about because of ground-breaking work by, believe it or not, Geraldo Rivera back in the 1970s when he smuggled a camera into Willowbrook State School on Staton Island. He captured the country’s attention and outrage when he showed the conditions people with intellectual disabilities were forced to endure.  As a direct result of this story, the federal government establish the P&A system. Over the years, further funding has been designated to work with other disability populaations and on specific topics, such as the Protection and Advocacy for Voting Access.

DRC and other P&As do everything from offering information and referrals to filing individual and class action lawsuits. The ultimate goal is to allow people with disabilities to live, work and play where they wish. It’s a tall order carried out by dedicated people every day. I’m lucky enough to be on the board and help decide what the future should look like for people with disabilities.

CripFace

No, it’s not some unusual facial expression that people with disabilities have nor is it a reference to an outer layer or surface. Think blackface, popularized in the 19th century as a means for white actors to portray people of color in theatrical performances by using makeup to blacken their faces, as well as wearing specific costumes and adopting certain mannerisms.

The term cripface has gained popularity as a means to refer to actors without visible disabilities who play characters with visible disabilities. Obviously, it is meant as a condemnation of the practice by those who find it insulting, disempowering and marginalizing.

Hollywood has a tendency to use actors without visible disabilities to play parts calling for a visibly disabled character. The practice is so common that, except in the case of Michael J. Fox or Marley Matlin, you can more or less assume a character with a disability does not have that disability in the real world. (“Growing Up Fisher”, “Joan of Arcadia”, “Riding the Bus with My Sister”, “The Piano”, “My Left Foot” etc.) In fact, chances are you can name more characters with disabilities than you can actors with disabilities.

The reason this happens is a chicken and egg explanation. Actors with disabilities are not cast in roles, unless the character specifically has a similar disability, so they do not get a lot of work. This means they have trouble gaining enough industry admiration to be cast in roles that include a disability. Instead, established talents with name recognition are sought to play characters with disabilities.

The practice is complicated by the fact that disability is often still utilized as plot devices to elicit certain responses from the audience, based on stereotypes and reliant upon inaccurate distortions of what it means to live with a disability. There are not strong, happy characters who happen to have disabilities filling the pages of novels or wheeling across the silver screen. If disability is a characteristic, it is a noted trait given significant attention and composing a major part of the plot because no creative gains would be made by a character with a disability who is “normal.” And, of course, if you have a character with a visible disability, that disability must somehow advance the plot. Thus, there are villains with scars, paraplegics bravely shouldering the tragedy of their situation and blind lawyers who made it through law school without anyone realizing they were blind. (It’s a major plot point in “Growing Up Fisher” and also impossible.)

Interestingly, blackface is attributed with both the proliferation of harmful stereotypes and bringing African-American culture into the mainstream. More than fifty years after the practice faded from the spotlight, the stereotypes blackface perpetuated are alive and well in our society, clearly demonstrating the harm the practice caused. Yet, there is no way to know what benefits the practice may have propagated, such as influences on music.

Proponents of casting people without disabilities in roles calling for disability often argue that at least characters with disabilities raise the public awareness of the existence of disability. Whether accurate or not, mainstream society is being exposed and how can exposure be bad?

Personally, I am not a fan of cripface when it does nothing to advance an accurate portrayal of disability. There’s no reason, other than actual storyline, to make a villain scarred, unless you are relying upon a noxious stereotype about ugly meaning evil, so don’t do it. However, if a role is based on a realistic portrayal, then anyone should be able to play the role. And, of course, the opposite should hold true. An actor with a disability should be able to play a role that does not specifically call for a disability. Why can’t a wheelchair user be an extra? For that matter, why couldn’t a “Gray’s Anatomy” patient have a prosthetic limb without it being a plot point? When disability is reduced to a characteristic that some characters have and some do not, that sometimes is relevant to the plot and sometimes is not and that doesn’t get an actor included or excluded from a role, then I won’t have a problem with cripface because it will no longer be a noteworthy event. It’s only a problem when prejudice, stereotypes and bigotry hold sway over Hollywood instead of a more balanced view of another facet of human variation.

 

This entry was written as my contribution to Blogging Against Disablism Day 2015. For some interesting reading, check out what others have contributed!

Pride with a Side of Alienation

Last July, I attended a Pride rally which flooded me with a wonderful sense of community, while simultaneously left me feeling alienated. When it comes to things like rallies, I often experience this same mix. Attending to enjoy the sense of community and common purpose, I tried to soak up the vibe only to ingest a nice dose of “But You Don’t Count” along the way.

I know the event was a rally about LGBT pride, focusing on issues that impact the non-heterosexual population and meant to highlight our bonds of community and common purpose. If everyone had stuck to LGBT issues exclusively, I might have not felt like “other.” However, from issues of racial equality to immigration, border security to employment rights, many speakers addressed other “liberal” causes. Lists of marginalized groups who we should stand with in their fight for equality were mentioned. Not once did disability pass the lips of any speaker. Not once.

As I sat in the “ASL” seats – because apparently only Deaf people need accessible seating – I listened to one man talk about LGBT youth. He rattled off one statistic about how many LGBT young people report hearing negative messages about their identity from the mouths of public officials. Suddenly, it dawned upon me. We think of negative messages as damaging. How harmful, though, is that which is left out entirely?

When George Takei asked us all to stand, face the flag and recite The Pledge of Allegiance with him, I had no idea where to look. As Norma Chavez-Peterson of the American Civil Liberties Union asked for us to join in the fight to help all oppressed people, those with disabilities were left off her list. A universal message of love and social justice permeated each speech I heard, yet not one person managed to identify people with disabilities as one class of individuals needing support in their fight for equality.

What message does that absence send? To me, it says that I am not thought of when issues of social justice are considered. My marginalized group is not one deserving of the same help and solidarity. I don’t matter enough to be included.

The ways people with disabilities are divergent from other marginalized groups is often the reason given for why we are not included in the list of social justice causes. We need special things that cost money, we are unable to do stuff and you can point to some substantive difference engendering more negativity than skin color or gender preference. Our difference is not viewed as diversity, making us separate from other social justice causes. And, as we all know from school integration, separate is inherently unequal.

So, as I tried to connect with my LGBT community, I had to stop thinking about my identity as a person with a disability. I could either be a member of the group being celebrated or a member of a group not thought worthy of mentioning. Very healthy for my self-esteem.

At least there is an honesty in all this. Should someone have thought to include people with disabilities, it probably would have been in word but not deed. So, for the lack of hypocrisy, I am grateful.

Blinded By Jealousy

Even when I was partially sighted, I never used the term “visually impaired” to describe myself because it was too avoid-the-reality-by-using-a-warm-and-fuzzy-word for my tastes. Instead, I simply used blind.

Life has recently caused me to re-examine my feelings about this. A friend who is partially sighted and I shop at the same grocery store. We’ve noticed that employees who have worked with one of us first then assume the other one is exactly the same in terms of abilities and needs. The initial blind individual a TAB meets seemingly becomes their working definition of what it means to be blind, shaping assumptions that inform their expectations, perception of needs and predictions of ability. When the same word is used to describe markedly different individual circumstances, TABs cannot manage to grasp the difference.

These TAB behaviors shaped by the assumptions formed from observation of two people self-described as blind but with differing vision are at the core of the tension between those who are totally blind and people with usable vision. The totally blind are annoyed with those partially sighted for creating unachievable expectations in the minds of TABs. Those with usable vision are irritated when totally blind individuals describe themselves as visually impaired for the lower expectations engendered in TAB minds.

Guess what the common thread is here? Expectations of TABs. Aren’t they the ones to hold responsible for their tendency to assume one blind person is representative of all blind people? Yet, within the blindness community, much energy is expended arguing about blind versus partially sighted instead of viewing TAB attitudes and actions as the source of the friction.

Unfortunately, all that neat and clean logic hasn’t helped me. Spending time with people who can see some and identify themselves as blind, I have increasingly become frustrated. Their usable sight puts tools in their toolbox I do not have in my own. With these tools, they are able to do things not possible for me. For example, follow another person without needing verbal cues, identify landmarks even if they are just a blob and perceive grass from dirt by color. While they may seem small, they add up to something meaningful.

There is a flavor of privilege in those who are partially blind that irritates me. By using the same term, the benefits of usable sight are dismissed as unimportant. Think about it. I can’t make eye contact and that has major social disadvantages. Someone partially blind may be able to simulate or achieve eye contact and reap social benefits. How is that not privilege?

I’m really struggling with all this. I think using the word “blind” to label yourself is completely understandable and reasonable regardless of the amount of usable vision one might possess. I just equally find it frustrating that the privilege bestowed upon those with some vision goes unacknowledged by them. I want such individuals to call themselves whatever they want, understand they have privilege kind of like African Americans who can pass as white have privilege and not pretend we are exactly the same. Privilege is about socially sanctioned benefits based on social perception of the individual. If I could pass as a white, able bodied, heterosexual man, then even if I were a black, disabled, female lesbian, I would still receive privilege. How unfair would it be to pretend otherwise?

What He Said

I could not have put this better myself if I tried for a week.

http://www.planet-of-the-blind.com/2014/03/the-able-bodied-blues.html

Nothing About Me Without Knowing Me

There’s a phrase – “Nothing about me without me” – that is used frequently in the disability rights movement. It is a means to combat the tendency in the “helping” professions to proclaim what is “best” for a person with a disability, while those making the choices are not disabled and have not found out the wishes of the disabled person. In other words, any decision about a person with a disability should, um, involve that person. It might seem very basic, but you would be surprised.

Parents of an adult with Down’s Syndrome speak with social service types about their child’s future, setting up such arrangements as what group home that adult will live in. Nobody asks the adult if they want to live with only members of the same gender or what neighborhood they might prefer. Legislators are writing new laws about how at-home assistance will work for people with disabilities, but there is not one disabled person involved in the process. My local public transit authority is making some drastic changes to routes, and while people with disabilities will be impacted by the alterations, they haven’t as of yet actually sought or even been open to the input of blind people.

The good news is that “Nothing about me without me” has made a lot of progress over the years.

With all this in mind, I was thinking about how people make judgments about me and my life without actually knowing me. They see blind person and think things like “Her life must be hard,” “She must not be able to enjoy TV,” or “She can’t possibly do X.” This, as you all know, drives me nuts.

When, through another’s words or actions, I encounter this directly, I can address the misconception the person has created. It would be even better if I could derail the process before it comes to that point.

Can the phrase “Nothing about me without knowing me” become popular? I want to know if just hearing that phrase makes sense to people.