By the age of three, I had already figured out that many well-meaning adults reacted to me with fear, if not disgust. I am not proud of how long it took me to acknowledge that I was a person with a disability. My internalized ableism compelled me to explain my limitations to strangers in the hope of convincing them that I was fine.
We—and by we I mean all of us, whether we consider ourselves disabled or not—have benefited from the ADA. The Americans with Disabilities Act was signed into law thirty-six years ago. I am proud of my predecessors who rolled their wheelchairs in front of buses, crawled up concrete steps, and waved banners in protest. I am proud of the people who made time to visit their elected representatives to support the National Library Service for the Blind and Print Disabled. I am also grateful to the allies who helped change the laws, making all of our lives more humane.
In the ways that matter most, I am fine. I’ve been fine for seventy-seven years. I am also human, which means there are times when I am not okay. There are some things I need help with, just as someone with a broken bone may need a crutch or someone with depression may need medication to keep functioning. There are also many things I have learned to do differently or work around. I’m particularly proud of my ability to adapt.
Better yet, now that I am an older adult, more and more of my peers have disabilities—although many still have a lot of catching up to do. For example, a friend who was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease five years ago looks and acts like a person with a disability, yet she refuses to identify as a disabled person. I recognize that accepting a disability is a deeply personal process. Understandably, living in a culture where disability is often stigmatized can erode a person’s self-worth and dignity. Acknowledging that you have a disability takes courage. It is also the first step toward creating change, both within yourself and in the world around you. And there is a lot more change that must happen before disabled people have equal rights.
As Lachi said in a recent podcast, the disability umbrella is vast and wide. Disabilities can be as visible as using a guide dog or sign language, or a wheelchair. It can also be as invisible as tinnitus, social anxiety, or chronic back pain. Whether our disability is temporary, sporadic, or intractable, we all have some aspect of our body/mind that needs accommodation. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could all see that as normal and something we could be proud of?
