The concept of ableism has blow up in the media over the past year with the outrage towards celebrities and public figures like Kylie Jenner and her “wheelchair photo shoot” as well as the all too familiar instance of Donald Trump imitating a disabled reporter. Due to these particular instances, many people have a very slim view as to what constitutes as an act of ableism. Ableism can be most easily explained as an action that discriminates against or demeans individuals that belong to the disabled community. Although, most viral cases of ableism tend to involve the offensive imitation or discrimination of a physical or apparent mental disability. Micro-aggression can be most easily described as a subtle and sometimes unintentional comment that demeans a member of a marginalized group, in this case, people with learning disabilities. Often times these two terms almost combine, especially in the rhetoric towards learning disabled people like myself.
Prior to being diagnosed with ADD/ADHD in the tail end of 2016, I had not even considered the potential for ableism and micro-aggression to affect the learning disabled community to the extent that I have come to experience. My understanding of the word ‘ableism’ was that it was used strictly to describe actions of able-bodied individuals that were considered offensive to physically disabled people. I had never even heard of the term ‘micro-aggression’. However, within days of my diagnosis I had begun experiencing the effects of both in my daily life. How was it that I could go through sixteen years of my life with undiagnosed ADD/ADHD and only begin to experience ableism and micro-aggression once I was assigned a label? It wasn’t like I had changed at all from being diagnosed, in fact, my ADD/ADHD related issues would continue to become less prevalent with the help of medicine. I spend the next several months looking into why this was the case.
Because learning disabilities are not usually visible, ableism tends to avoid us until a diagnosis. Upon hearing that the friend, the student, the child that they had known for years happened to have a learning disability, my neurotypical peers immediately treated me differently. Friends who had accepted the little quirks that come along with my ADD/ADHD as personality traits began expressing their annoyance more openly than ever before and teachers began speaking to me like a child. I won’t lie, experiencing these behaviors hurt like hell, but my desire to learn about the cause for this was stronger than my upset feelings.
Due to limited exposure to difference among members of the learning disabled community and being conditioned by society to think of disabled people in a certain way, a neurotypical individual faces conflict when introduced to someone who doesn’t fit their typical standard of “disabled”. This response often causes them to revert to how they feel would be an appropriate way to treat someone with a disability. Most of the time, these actions are incredibly demeaning and offensive, sometimes without the mal-intention of the offender. I’m definitely not a cookie cutter disabled person in the eyes of society, which exposes me to comments of all kind, anywhere from “You don’t look like you have ADD” all the way to “Are you sure you’re not faking it to get into college more easily?”. I considered the possibility that my offending peers were experiencing a conflict between the labels they assigned me previously and the new one that my brain now fell into. Now, how do the concepts of ableism and micro-aggression fall into this? Both comments I mentioned contained elements of micro-aggression and ableism combined, but understanding what parts fall into what category can be confusing. The act of doubting my diagnosis is ableism, while the tone of the comments leans more on the side of micro-aggression. In addition, when a neurotypical person begins to push their own beliefs regarding my personal situation onto me, it perpetrates the idea that people without learning disabilities have some kind of divine right over me, a young woman who just happens to have disabilities, and my mental condition. Distinguishing between the ableism and micro-aggression is difficult, but understanding both concepts is key to preventing further upset.
In a neurotypical society that chants phrases like “Don’t be handicapped, be handicapable” in the faces of disabled individuals, expecting it to make us magically empowered, it is hard to take yourself seriously. Even phrases like those, good intentions aside, dismiss our identity as disabled individuals. At the end of the day, I AM disabled. I AM slow. I DO have difficulty with tasks others consider simple. But what is it to you? Because ultimately, my disability has given me so many outlets to continue to empower myself. I will never stop being thankful for what my learning disability ended up teaching me.
