Your discomfort isn’t my burden. Think before you speak.

CW: ableism, suicide.

Inspired by @thevaluable500’s and also Caroline Bowditch’s prompt on unconscious bias at Diversity Arts Austealia workshop last week, I’ve had a think about the well meaning things that have been said to and asked of me.  And here are 18 of them – and I could list 118 more. Please don’t be jealous,  I’ve experienced all of this well-meaningness. Many interactions of this nature have been from people I have just met, but some situations have been with people who know me. Often they’re said by people who I expect to know better – people who are supposed to abide by a code of conduct (like in the media) for example.

It’s all well intentioned, isn’t it? Curiosity that needs to be satisfied, because disabled people are just expected to educate at all times. Politely of course.

But can you imagine being on the receiving end of these questions and comments – sometimes every multiple times a day? It can be hard just to get on with my day when confronted with these type of interactions. And it’s hard to move on to a new topic when these are opening lines. And it takes work to establish a sense of pride and self worth when people just blurt out what they’re thinking about about me.

I’m sure other disabled people can relate.

Most of these questions and statements seem pretty harmless to non disabled people. But some of them are blatantly gobsmacking. And the cumulative effect can be wearing.

Can you imagine being on a date where you’re told “I’d kill myself if I looked like you”. That’s happened to me. It was a well intentioned way of saying I’m really strong, but he couldn’t handle looking this way.

Many of these questions and statements I’ve listed suggest I should be cured of my disability, rejecting it as a part of my identity. But a cure is not possible, and why should I want one? As I wrote in Say Hello,  I’d like a cure for people’s ableism.

Before you go to make a well intentioned comment or ask a curious question of a disabled person (or who has a facial difference or skin condition), stop. Consider whether you’d like to be asked it. Consider how many times they’ve had this interaction before. Consider how helpful it is to you. And realise that these questions and statements are deeply entrenched ableism, and your discomfort with disability. Because ultimately, disability is seen as a tragedy.

But it’s not. It’s part of the human condition and anyone at anytime could become disabled.

Check your unconscious bias. Rethink your well-meaningness.

Your curiosity and discomfort isn’t my burden.

Has this post helped you or made you think? Will you use it in your work or school? Please consider buying me a drink! 
You can also buy my book, Say Hello. 

Images:

1. A square with nine alternate purple and pink squares within, separated by white borders. On each square are statements and questions in black text:

What are the chances of you passing your condition on?

Don’t call yourself disabled

God put you on this earth for an reason.

I’ll pray for you.

It could be worse.

Are you contagious?

How would you feel if you didn’t have this condition?

I saw someone like you on TV once.

What did you do to yourself?

CarlyFindlay.com.au is in the centre in white text.

2. A square with nine pink squares within, separated by white borders. On each square are statements and questions in black text: Can you have sex?

I’d kill myself if I looked like you.

What’s your life expectancy?

That’s not a disability.

I don’t even notice your face anymore.

You’re so pretty, considering.

Have you tried…?

Does your partner also have what you have?

My child’s teacher’s mother’s rabbit has the same condition as you.

CarlyFindlay.com.au is in the centre in white text.