Language of Disability Archives

Disability is NOT Derogatory – Why You Should Spread the Word to End the Word

Posted on March 5, 2014August 12, 2021 by Emily Ladau

“Don’t you think she’s being retarded?” I heard the words coming out of the person’s mouth and realize she’s looking at me expectantly, waiting for me to chime in and nod in agreement. “Don’t you think…” What do I think? I wouldn’t dare utter the word “retarded” in response. I could answer with a simple yes and laugh it off like the word “retard” never came out of her mouth. I could say “Hey, that’s not nice.” Or, I could bring the casual conversation to a screeching halt and confront the issue head on, pointing out why “retard” is just flat out inappropriate.

Does this encounter sound familiar to you? It’s happened to me far too many times to count. Each one of the possible responses comes with a whole set of issues. Sometimes, no matter how passionate a disability rights advocate you are, none of the options are particularly ideal.

By laughing off a word that insults the entire disability community, you send the message that it’s okay to make disability derogatory. If you mention in passing that the r-word isn’t nice but move right on, the person will probably brush it off, maybe saying “oh you know I didn’t mean anything by it.” So of course, if you really want to Spread the Word to End the Word, you’ll have to directly call out the person who used it. And I understand how challenging it can be to confront discriminatory language. Too often, advocates who speak up are told that we’re overreacting. We’re told to relax because “it’s just a word.”

To that, I say: Never underestimate the power of a word. Even if the word “retard” is thrown around flippantly without conscious negative intentions, it arguably does just as much harm as when the word is directly hurled at someone as an insult. Each time a word like the r-word is used, this perpetuates that the entire concept of disability is derogatory, that disability is a negative quality. Although the r-word has long since been removed from the list of acceptable terminology to refer to cognitive disabilities, we need to remember that it was once a widely accepted disability-related term. The root of the problem with using “retard” as a derogatory word lies not so much in that it’s taken on degrading connotations, but in that it denounces disability as a part of the human experience worthy of respect.

I have a disability and I am worthy of respect. All people who have disabilities, be they cognitive, physical, or emotional, are worthy of respect. Our experiences are valid, and they are worthy of respect. That’s why I support the campaign to end the use of the r-word. It isn’t merely six silly letters, and it isn’t just a joke. Disability is an identity I’m proud of, and under no circumstances should disability ever be derogatory.

Just One of the Guys – A Critique of the Wheelchair Basketball Guinness Commercial

Posted on September 5, 2013October 4, 2023 by Emily Ladau

I think it’s safe to say one of the first things students learn in Marketing and Advertising 101 is that one of the best ways to pull viewers in is to tug at their heartstrings. A prime example of this approach can be seen in a new commercial for Guinness beer.

As I started to watch the ad, I was impressed by the accurate portrayal of a wheelchair basketball game, enough so that I could (almost) overlook the sappy background music. But then, as the men exit the gym, a deep voice goes on to say: “Dedication, Loyalty, Friendship…The choices we make reveal the true nature of our character.” To me, this seems to relegate disabled people to the status of a community service project.

The brand’s tag line, which is shown at the end of the commercial, is “Made of More.” Of course, this refers to the beer, but there is arguably a double meaning behind it. When a commercial makes you feel warm and fuzzy, you’ll associate those positive feelings with the brand that’s being promoted, thereby making you more likely to buy the product, which in this case, is the Guinness. Essentially, the underlying message of the ad is that it demonstrates good character when an able-bodied person befriends a disabled person. Those who do so are “made of more.”

At the end of the commercial, all the men who were playing basketball are hanging out and drinking Guinness. If Guinness had made a commercial in which a bunch of guys were out on a Friday night drinking together, and one of them just happened to be in a wheelchair, that would have been great. They could have made an inclusive ad without making it seem like spending time with a guy in a wheelchair means you’re a good person. He should have been just one of the guys without calling so much attention to it. Personally, if I made the commercial, I’d have had an empowering rock anthem in the background, eliminated the sap, and then after the game the guys would have gone out for drinks. That would be have been an awesome commercial.

Instead, Guinness objectifies disabled people. The message that choosing to be friends with a disabled person makes you a saint is constantly perpetuated by the media and it needs to stop. Disabled people are not here so we can make nondisabled people feel good about themselves. And yet, that’s exactly what this commercial seems to accomplish. You don’t have to take my word for it though; just read some of the comments under the video in the link I shared and you’ll see tons of people saying things like “this brought tears to my eyes” or “this was the nicest thing I’ve ever seen on television.”

Nicest thing for whom? Nice for you, the nondisabled viewer, because you can sit on your couch and feel momentarily good about the state of humanity? Would your eyes still well up with tears if the commercial showed a bunch of sweaty dudes without wheelchairs playing basketball and grabbing a beer? That doesn’t sound like a tear-jerker to me!

It is clear that the commercial tried to show the men building each other up and supporting each other, which is absolutely a great idea, but I question if Guinness considered how dehumanizing it actually is for disabled people to be depicted as needing kindhearted non-disabled people to pay them some attention. The friendship between the guys in the commercial is certainly portrayed as genuine, and that’s admirable, but why is friendship among diverse people so emotional and inspirational? That should be the norm…it’s 2013!

Including disabled people, whether in real life or in the media, is fantastic and definitely necessary. I’m obviously a huge advocate for inclusion both on and off the screen. But it’s time for advertisers and other media outlets to do it right. Disabled people are just people, not your good deed for the week. By representing inclusion of disabled people as inspiring, this both reflects existing social stigma and can cause nondisabled people to continue to subconsciously perceive us as somehow being less than. It’s time for disabled people to be portrayed realistically instead of stereotypically, because ultimately, everyone on this planet, disabled or not, is just one of the guys.

The Complexities of “Curing” Disabilities

Posted on August 15, 2013August 12, 2021 by Emily Ladau

I can’t count how many times I’ve been asked variations of the question: “If there was a pill that could cure your disability, would you take it?” Though the short answer is a resounding “No!” I rarely get the chance to elaborate on the complex feelings and emotions that are behind my answer.

Here’s the long answer: I definitely have moments where the thought of an instant cure gives me pause. I wonder what life might be like as an able-bodied version of myself. I try to envision myself walking around the mall or running after a soccer ball. I try to picture myself climbing a tree or jumping rope. But thinking about these things is mind-bending for me because they’re not part of my life. And I’m okay with that. I don’t have a burning desire to walk or run or climb or jump like an able-bodied person, because such actions have never been part of my life to begin with. Since I was born with my disability, I don’t feel that anything was taken away from me. It’s simply not possible to miss something I never experienced.

I think “cure” is actually a rather loaded term in relation to my disability, because to cure something implies that you are returning the body to its normal state. My disability is my normal state. To cure me in accordance with the medical definition of the word would not only give me new abilities, but also essentially transform me into a whole new person. I can’t imagine myself as an able-bodied person, because I never was an able-bodied person. I’ve embraced my disability as a huge facet of my identity, and I take pride in it.

While I don’t define myself solely by my disability, having a disability has undeniably shaped who I am. Without my lived experiences as a disabled person, I would be a completely different Emily. And as tough as certain aspects of my life have been, and though I know I will continue to face disability-related challenges throughout my life, I wouldn’t trade my life for a minute. My disability has given me a place in a community and a culture; it has been the reason why I’ve had amazing adventures and unforgettable experiences. To walk freely up and down stairs for one day would never measure up to the things I’ve done because I have a disability.

So, my answer is still no. No, I would not take a pill for a cure. That being said, it’s not my place to judge another person for answering “yes.” I understand that disability is a highly unique experience from one person to the next, and I can’t say that my opinions on “curing” disability are the only way to think about it. For instance, it is completely reasonable to search for cures for degenerative or painful diseases and disabilities. If I could take a pill to cure the pain I experience, I would do that in a heartbeat. But I don’t want to change who I am. We should be looking to cure the pain, not the person.

We should not be trying to cure disability or disease because society sees it as something to devalue. And for that matter, if the reasoning behind “curing” disability is about eradicating differences from society, then I think we should cure society’s ableism instead. We should make it a priority to eliminate access barriers and prejudiced mindsets, rather than focusing on eliminating disabilities. But to find ways to relieve symptoms and improve quality of life for people – those are the right reasons to support finding cures.