Opinion
Don't Ask Me Why I Use A Cane: Disability Rights
Opinion
Don't Ask Me Why I Use A Cane: Disability Rights
By Leo Margil
Hi! My name is Leo Margil, I’m a sophomore at NHS, I use he/him pronouns, and my favorite element is neodymium because it’s super magnetic. You might have seen me around the school. I mean, I’m not that recognizable—I’m a short blonde white kid. You probably look over me, literally. But you have almost definitely glanced out of your classroom at the constant click, click, click that accompanies me when I walk. I don’t care that you look up at noise—most people are respectful and just go back to their work—but you definitely noticed my cane. It’s a red marbled foldable cane from CVS. I named it Elrod (long story, I was reading that part in The Martian where they have the council of Elrond to do the Rich Purnell maneuver and yeah, you can probably tell I’m a massive nerd by now, so.) I started using a cane about two months ago. I knew I would get weird looks and questions, but nothing could prepare me for the outright ableism and isolation I was faced with. The most persistent question I got was: Why are you using a cane? My answer: None of your business.
I didn’t say “none of your business” because I was trying to be rude, or because I’m embarrassed of using a cane. I said it because it gets so tiring answering that question multiple times a day to near strangers. Have you ever dyed your hair? You know when you go to school, and the first thing people say is “Wow! Did you dye your hair?”, and you don’t know how to respond, because obviously you dyed your hair, it didn’t turn green overnight. So you say “Yeah, I did,” and go to your next class. You walk in and everyone stares at you and the teacher asks “Wow! Did you dye your hair?” and you respond “Yeah, I did.” By the time you go to lunch, literally everyone you know (and even those you don’t) have asked if you dyed your hair, and you are considering wearing a shirt that says “Yes, I dyed my hair.” This is what I feel like every day. People are often asking why I use a cane out of concern, which is nice, but they don’t stop to consider that I’ve already told everyone why, and they are literally the thirtieth person to ask. I don’t mind telling people why I use a cane: I have knee pain and chronic fatigue syndrome. It’s not that exciting. I just mind when I am constantly, over and over again, asked. So, please, stop asking me why I use a cane.
Before I get into the article, a quick note about language. There have been multiple movements by abled people (people without disabilities) to use person-first or different language when regarding disability. There are many issues with this. With person-first language (ex. “person with a disability” instead of “disabled person”), the intention is to, well, put the person first, and not let their disability define them. However, our disability is part of us, and is a part of our definition of ourselves. Person-first language also tries to separate us from our disabilities and imply that we can’t be proud of or even accept them as part of ourselves. Most disabled people prefer to be called “disabled people”. Another common trend among well-meaning abled people is to use phrases such as “differently abled”, “disABLED”, “person with a different ability”, etc. This erases the very real fact of our disabilities. We are disabled. There’s no way around it. These phrases also imply that “disabled” is a dirty, bad word. It’s not; it’s simply a neutral descriptor word like tall or short. Being disabled isn’t a moral failure or a lack of effort. Also, old-fashioned terms such as ‘cr*pple’ are, in fact, very hurtful. Cr*pple and all of the related words (cr*p, cr*ppled, etc) are ableist slurs. It’s not super hard to not call someone that.
There are many different types of disabilities, including mental, physical, and sensory disabilities. “Disabled” has different definitions depending on the context (i.e. legal or medical). The legal definition of a disabled person under the ADA (Americans with Disabilities Act) is “a person who has a physical or mental impairment that substantially limits one or more major life activity. This includes people who have a record of such an impairment, even if they do not currently have a disability. It also includes individuals who do not have a disability but are regarded as having a disability.” A mental disability is a mental condition (such as depression, PTSD, OCD, etc.) or developmental disorder (such as autism, ADHD, dyslexia, etc.) that impairs someone’s ability substantially. A physical disability is any physical condition (such as amputation, Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, fibromyalgia, endometriosis, etc.) that impairs someone’s ability in relation to their physicality. A sensory disability is any condition affecting perception of senses (such as visual impairment, being Deaf, audio processing disorder, etc). These aren’t mutually exclusive. Some conditions may originate in the brain but cause physical and sensory effects as well: Cerebral Palsy is abnormal brain development, but has effects on one’s physical abilities as well. I have ADHD, which is a mental condition, but it sometimes causes me to have trouble processing what I hear (audio processing) or makes me extra-sensitive to sensory input. Of course, I am not a doctor by any means, so if you’re interested in learning more, I would suggest asking a doctor or doing independent research.
Not all disabilities are visible. A visible disability is when you can tell someone is disabled—they use a mobility aid, sensory aid, they have on a shirt that says “I’M DISABLED!!”, etc. It is important to note that while you can tell sometimes, it’s always best not to assume anything further. I’m clearly disabled, but beyond that, there isn’t much you can assume. An invisible disability is one that is not obvious. These include mental disorders that may not be obvious, physical disabilities for which a person doesn’t use or need a visible mobility aid, and sensory disabilities that may not be obvious, like wearing contact lenses. It is very important to avoid assuming all people are able-bodied, as you may be silencing someone or making them uncomfortable and unlikely to ask for their needs to be met.
Disability Culture
Believe it or not, many disabled people take pride in their disabilities. There is a large community online and in real life of disabled people sharing their experiences, struggles, and accomplishments. Disability culture as a whole is broken up into many subcultures; for example, the Deaf community, one that I, as someone is not Deaf, cannot speak to. There is also a large community of neurodivergent people (people with ADHD, Autism, dyslexia/calculia/praxia, etc) who take pride in their neurodivergence and aren’t ashamed of it. There are many more subcultures out there, but all have one central message: we are not less because of our disabilities. We are whole human beings with fulfilling lives and independent thought, and we deserve to be treated as such.
Spoon Theory
A common way of expressing our energy levels and needs is Spoon Theory, originally created by Christine Miserandino. Spoon Theory represents tasks as spoons, with certain tasks using more spoons than others. For example, getting dressed might ‘cost’ one spoon, making and eating breakfast might ‘cost’ three spoons, walking to school might ‘cost’ three spoons, and so on. People start their days with a limited number of spoons. Once the amount of spoons for that day is used up, we physically cannot do more tasks without leaving fewer spoons for the next day. Things that may seem small, like the earlier example of getting dressed, can be taxing activities for disabled people. However, Spoon Theory doesn't only apply to disabled people. Here’s an activity: write down the tasks you do each day and assign them spoons. Then, estimate how many spoons you may have each day. Do they add up? If not, you may want to devote more time to yourself and self-care.
Tips for Interacting With Disabled People
I honestly wish I didn’t have to write this section, but abled people seem to lose all people skills when confronted with someone who’s disabled, so:
Don’t ask us invasive/dumb questions. This includes, but is not limited to: “Why do you use a [cane, crutches, walker, rollator, wheelchair, etc.]?” I just wrote a whole article about this. “How did you hurt yourself?” Many of us didn’t injure ourselves; we were born this way or it happened for no apparent reason. “Why?” Here’s a conversation I had the other day: “Why do you use that cane, anyways?” (grumbling, with a lot of effort): “Knee pain.” “Why?” I genuinely did not know what to say. Even my doctors don’t know why I have knee pain.
Don’t stare. This also seems obvious. On Halloween, I was appalled at how many people stared at me. There’s a guy in a blow-up dinosaur suit behind you! We are not objects to be scrutinized. We are people. And yes, we can see you staring.
Don’t call us cr*ppled/r*tarded. These are both slurs. I have had massive amounts of people I barely know jokingly call me a “cr*ppled old man hahaha.” This is not funny to me. ‘R*tard’ is also a slur, and I know you know that. Stop saying it.
Don’t touch us or our mobility aids without permission. People in wheelchairs do not want to be randomly pushed. I do not want you to pick up my cane. These are extensions of our body. Similarly, asking amputees/limb different people if you can try on their prosthetic. I dare you to really think about that for a moment.
Don’t say you’ll pray for me. I don’t need curing, and I certainly don’t need your prayers.
Don’t ask us if we really need a disability aid. Yes, we do, and we certainly know more about our own medical needs than a random stranger.
Do…
Treat us like a normal human being. Even though/if we can’t communicate in the same way you do, that doesn’t mean that we can’t communicate or that we don’t have thoughts or needs. We are literally just people.
Be as aware of our needs as you can. When I’m carrying something in one hand, I really need someone to hold the door. “Treat us like normal people” doesn’t mean “pretend we aren’t disabled”. (Guess what: disabled people are people!). However, don’t give help when someone doesn’t want it. A blind person doesn’t want someone they do not know to grab them to help them cross the street. Use your judgement.
Thank you for reading this. I would like to point out that I am by no means an authority on disability. Someone might really hate being called disabled and may prefer the term differently abled. The information I provide in this article is about disabled communities as whole, not individual people (other than myself). I hope this article made you rethink how you perceive disability in yourself, others, and your community as whole. If you have any questions about this article or disability culture (not what’s wrong with me personally), feel free to email me at lemargil@students.natickps.org.