What’s in a Name?

By Rob Kocur

Sixteen years ago, I played a fateful game of sandlot football and became quadriplegic. Since that time, I believe I’ve made a healthy adjustment. Of course, there are those issues, like inaccessibility and discrimination, that cause justifiable frustration. Nothing arouses my ire more, however, than the improper use of language as it relates to the disability community.

I was recently riding on a city bus to the mall. After the bus changed drivers, the new driver said to me, "Where’s the wheelchair going?" I said, "It’s going with me." Later that day, I was again riding the bus home. After I ascended on the lift, the driver asked, "Can you transfer? I have two other wheelchairs to get."

I believe many forces are to blame for inappropriate language. For instance, many people see or hear terms such as "handicapped parking" and assume that it’s okay in everyday speech. Others were raised during a time when "cripple" and "invalid" were considered proper terminology. More recently, we have the PC, or politically correct, movement. It was PC that gave us jewels such as "handicapable," "differently abled" and the ever-popular "physically challenged." It’s funny -- I don’t remember being a part of the committee that voted yes to these.

Last, and certainly least, we have many members of the disability community itself who care little about what they’re called. Many individuals tell me "you can’t take that stuff too seriously" or, "what difference does it make?" Sadly, perhaps in an attempt to show society that they’re not bitter, they sell us out.

The importance of using person-first language can hardly be stressed enough. Placing the person before the wheelchair, cane or speech difficulty accomplishes two things. First, by stressing the person, it emphasizes inner qualities that anyone might have, and de-emphasizes physical appearance. It also normalizes the disability by sending the subtle message that a disability can happen to anyone. Compare that to "wheelchair person," which has sort of a space-alien feel to it.

Language affects attitudes. Legislation defending the rights of the disability community might be easier to enforce if everyone saw the person first.

The phrase "everyone’s disabled in some way" should not be excused either. This is an error in logic known as equivocation, or the changing of a term’s definition in midstream. One minute, we’re referring to a disability such as blindness; the next minute we’re equating it to forgetfulness, or being 20 pounds overweight. The person who does this usually finds the disability intimidating. Reducing the seriousness of the disability makes it easier to handle.

So, what can a person with a disability do against the formidable foes of appropriate language? The answer is assertiveness and patience. When someone you meet uses inappropriate language, do you politely correct them, or do you accept their ignorance and confusion as excuses? If you do correct them, do you explain why it’s important?

Every time a person refrains from being assertive, they are, in effect, saying, "It doesn’t really matter what you call me." Correcting someone may not be comfortable, but it’s the right thing to do. If that person is secure, he or she will not react defensively. If they do, you must realize that it is not your problem.

Any time members of a minority group speak out on an issue relating to them, they run the risk of being labelled as bitter, obsessed, maladjusted or hypersensitive. These labels are merely a sign of society’s unease. Labels take the place of true understanding, while also discrediting the person presenting the issue.

Since correcting one individual at a time can be frustrating, it might also be helpful to attend quality assurance meetings held by various entities. This is the reason I joined the committee concerning the LIFT, Erie County’s version of the share ride system. Many of the drivers were using the kinds of phrases noted earlier, such as, "I have three wheelchairs on this run." Since addressing the issue several months ago, I have noticed a vast improvement.

Distributing person-first literature is yet another way to drive home the point. Pamphlets, for example, explain to the reader why person-first language is so important. Contact your nearest Independent Living Resource Centre or advocacy organization and collect all the literature you can.

Since the media are often guilty of not using person-first language, don’t be afraid to write a positive-sounding, but educational, letter or two to the local broadcasting station or the newspaper. Perhaps a few members of the media could be invited to attend a "language training day" which you host, alone or in conjunction with a group of individuals. Volunteering to do language education seminars, especially in schools, can also be a powerful way to make lasting change in future generations.

Secondly, be patient. Remember, people of colour and other minority groups went through this too. It will take time and effort to change the attitudes of the able-bodied population, as well as certain members of our own community. It is a slow and difficult fight, but that’s no excuse for not getting involved. Just as one vote certainly makes a difference, your personal effort may reach more people than you think.

(Rob Kocur is a freelance writer and Sports and Recreation Coordinator at Community Resources for Independence in Erie, Pennsylvania, U.S.A.)