5 Reasons

From Forbes:

“5 Reasons Why There’s No Wrong Time To Fight For Disability Rights”

“Now is not the time!”

It’s a cliche because the sentiment itself is so familiar. You have something important to discuss, or an urgent need, but everyone seems to agree that there are more important matters to attend to. Sometimes that’s true. Other times it can be an excuse to put off an annoying problem or awkward problem. Either way, it can be frustrating to hear when your own issues seem at least as important as everyone else’s. It’s rarely said out loud, but a powerful argument lurks wherever people talk about disabled people’s rights and needs. It’s the idea that there are times when it is wrong for disabled people to advocate for our needs and rights. It’s not just non-disabled people who believe this. Many, if not most disabled people believe it too on some level, or at least feel it from time to time. We’re about to say something, and we stop, telling ourselves, in effect, “Now is not the time.”

The logic is easy to understand. Sometimes what’s vitally important to you personally just isn’t as important to everyone else. And sometimes, what’s good for one person, or a small group of people, isn’t good for the community as a whole. Although Americans are famously proud individualists, we also revere solidarity and sacrifice. Some amount of prioritizing also makes sense. We can’t always do everything worth doing, and difficult decisions must sometimes be made. Sometimes, matters of life and death, of the wellbeing of the entire community, should take precedence over one person’s needs or rights, or even over the needs and rights of a subset of people who have more specialized needs.

Is the middle of a global pandemic really the time for disabled people to speak up about the finer points of being accommodated in overworked hospitals? At a time when it’s hard to imagine how we’re going to manage any kind of voting by the November Election Day, should disabled people quibble over whether mail-in ballots or polling places are fully accessible? Is it right for us to insist on the letter of law and regulations for special education of disabled students, when schools are struggling just to teach the basics online? The answer to these and similar questions of equal access and fundamental rights of disabled people must be yes. Yes, it is always appropriate for disabled people to advocate for our rights, for full accommodation and inclusion, no matter what else is happening.

But why? 

1. Disabled people’s needs and rights are always among the first to be forgotten.

For a variety of complex reasons, disabled people’s place in society is a paradox. One day we are the most privileged, praised, and sentimentalized of all “minority groups.” The next we are firmly, sometimes brutally reminded that we are regarded as the most pitied, burdensome, and superfluous segments of society. People find it easy to cherish and protect certain disabled individuals, sometimes to a harmful degree. But as a group our collective needs and rights are more often treated as trivial, unknowable, and simply “too much.” Occasionally, some combination of shrewd activism, skilled policy insights, and a relatively optimistic period of “domestic tranquillity” allows disabled people to make a leap ahead. There are times when our needs and protests find a receptive audience with enough time and attention span to help us get something done. But as soon as almost any other problem feels more urgent and widespread, and especially in moments of nationwide or global existential threat, disabled people’s needs become luxuries once again. What does it matter that wheelchair users can’t eat at inaccessible restaurants or go to see a movie if they are all closed anyway because of a global pandemic? How much can we expect school systems to follow every Individualized Education Plan during lockdown, when they are struggling just to teach the basics over Zoom? Who is going to worry about upsetting and dehumanizing chronically ill, developmentally disabled, and immunocompromised people, when literally everyone is terrified of seemingly random death from an unseen virus? When an entire community feels deprived or badly frightened, disabled people’s needs and fears inevitably drop to the bottom of the list. But this is the absolute worst time for disabled people to let our rights and priorities slide.

2. In a major community crisis, we can’t rely on anyone else to advocate for us.

The disability community’s place in a society shaken by a major crisis — like a global pandemic — is a lot like a disabled person stuck in a crowded room full of excited people. Whether it’s a happy, boisterous party or a terrified panic, in a crowd, disabled people tend to get bumped into, knocked over, and trampled. Sometimes it’s on purpose, but usually it’s by accident. The result is the same. We get hurt, and the best we can hope for is a hand up and a distracted apology. We can’t afford to count on people watching out for us. We have to pay attention, and above all, do what we can to stand out and be noticed. We have to say, “Excuse me, I’m here!” It’s like that for disabled people in times of community or society-wide emergencies. No matter how carefully we try to set up systems for our automatic protection, it is always up to us and our voices in the moment to make sure we are seen and not neglected. Far from keeping quiet and deferring our own needs in favor of some “greater good,” it’s disabled people’s job in a crisis to remind the rest of the community that we are here and that our needs and rights are still important. Strong self-advocacy in a crisis isn’t selfish. It’s both personally responsible and public spirited.

3. There are few rewards worth having for disabled people who sacrifice their rights and needs in favor of others in a crisis. Disabled people can be selfless too, just like anyone else. But being selfless in the context of widespread neglect and prejudice just doesn’t mean the same thing. And in speaking up “selfishly” for ourselves we are also speaking up for each other, which is the opposite of selfish. Being quiet, low-maintenance, and humble may have inherent virtues and attractions, but it also has specific costs that for many disabled people aren’t realistically affordable. Most disabled people are taught differently. We tend to absorb two contradictory lessons. On the one hand, disabled people learn to accept the conventional wisdom that being a pleasant, selfless, undemanding person will result in better treatment and an easier time solving problems and getting help when we need it. After all, “You catch more flies with honey,” and it’s pretty obviously true that frequent complainers aren’t well liked. On the other hand, time and experience teaches us that goodwill towards disabled people is usually thin and conditional. It’s easy to be nice to disabled people when being nice to us is easy. If it is at all hard, time-consuming, or expensive, we find our true allies to be a much smaller group, and even their help isn’t always reliable. Worse, disabled people eventually discover that polite, respectful advocacy often simply doesn’t work. Especially at the social and political level, real change requires more hard-edged, single-minded activism. Taking the long view, the more balanced, civil approach can be more satisfying personally and even morally. But as another saying goes, “The squeaky wheel gets the oil.” In the ecosystem disabled people actually live in, plain-spoken bluntness and self-assertion are often more effective than patiently waiting our turn, no matter what our personal inclinations might be.

4. We aren’t really that small a minority.

No matter how you look at it, people with disabilities are a minority of Americans. But we are by any measure a very large minority that also overlaps with every other demographic, political, economic, and social identity.

According to disability statistics from the Centers for Disease Control, 26% of adults in the United States — 1 in 4 — have some kind of disability. More specifically:

13.7% have a mobility impairment.

10.8% have some kind of cognitive impairment.

5.9% are Deaf or have a hearing impairment.

4.6% are blind or have a visual impairment.

6.8% need help with regular tasks and errands.

3.7% need help with basic everyday self-care.

It is also important to note that disability rates are higher among women, people of color, and people over age 65. 

Disabled people’s needs and rights are important to every disabled person of course, but they are uniquely important to everyone else too. As already noted, the disability experience overlaps with all other demographics and walks of life. It isn’t confined to a single, isolated group. Also, many more people who are not disabled presently stand a good chance of becoming disabled in some way in the future, through illness, accidents, or age. It is wrong to define any marginalized group as fundamentally separate from society, but it makes even less sense where disabled people are concerned. So if you are going to make a purely numerical argument about whether disabled people’s needs and rights are important … they are. And that’s in addition to the fact that our needs and rights are inherently important, regardless of our numbers.

5. Disabled people’s needs and rights don’t compete with others; they overlap with them.

One of the main arguments for putting off disabled people’s concerns in favor of “more important things,” is the idea that time and resources spent on us robs them from society at large. In this view, a disabled minority is in constant competition with the nondisabled majority. It’s a zero sum game, and perceptions of fairness dictate that disabled people’s specialized needs must always be an afterthought … something extra we can attend to when everything else is taken care of. But this is a false formulation, and a recipe for perpetual neglect. It sounds idealistic, but it’s demonstrably true … what’s good for people with disabilities is good for society. For instance, physical accessibility like curb ramps and easy to open doors make life easier for everyone, with and without disabilities. As recently demonstrated, flexible alternatives for everyday tasks and procedures help everyone adjust to the unexpected. And better ways to provide services and support to disbaled people usually end up benefiting elderly people and other nondisbled people who may become disabled, especially during a society-wide crisis. Most dramatically, we are now learning again how public health measures that protect the most medically vulnerable among us also protect all of us. It’s long been observed that people with disabilities are “canaries in the coal mine.” We tend to notice weaknesses and flaws in society before they become widespread disasters. We regularly sound the alarm, not just for ourselves, but for everyone. And our innovative ways of surviving and thriving point the way for all of society to get through difficult times and global emergencies. And when our needs do compete directly with others, it’s often a matter of life or death ... in which case we have literally no choice but to advocate as if our lives depend on it. Selflessness is a universal virtue, and disabled people are fully capable of giving as well as taking. At the same time, disabled people’s position in society gives us little choice sometimes but to insist on our needs and rights, no matter what is going on around us. There’s no need for us to feel guilty about it, or to hold ourselves back when our voices are needed more than ever. And the rest of society should listen.

^ This really makes you stop and think. ^

https://www.forbes.com/sites/andrewpulrang/2020/04/24/5-reasons-why-theres-no-wrong-time-to-fight-for-disability-rights/#618b7d343ac1