Today, I want to talk about what is colloquially known in our community as the "Crip Tax." This term encompasses the increased cost of living that accompanies being disabled. Whether it’s accessible housing, home modifications, therapies, treatments, medications, or elevated electric bills to maintain medical equipment—these costs are substantial.
Selma Blair shared her struggles with the financial strain of managing her multiple sclerosis with the The Hollywood Reporter: "People perceive you as rich and famous but there were many years I’d have to take off work that deeply impacted [me]. If I don’t [get] my SAG-AFTRA insurance, then I don’t get my blood products." This sentiment resonates deeply with many of us who face similar financial burdens.
Accessible housing is often limited to more expensive areas, and making one's home accessible through modifications can be financially draining. The cost of mobility aids, which are often not covered by insurance, further strains our finances. But the Crip Tax extends beyond monetary costs. The psychological impact of being perceived as exploiting our disability for preferential treatment, when all we seek is basic equity, is profound. We face conscious and unconscious biases that affect our dating lives, career progression, and personal relationships.
In the workplace, requesting necessary accommodations can be a delicate balance. The fear of being perceived as a burden looms large. If we ascend to positions of leadership and conquer these prejudices, we are often met with accusations of tokenism and claims that we are less qualified and less deserving. On the other hand, asking for too many accommodations can lead employers to assume we will underperform. Add to that the often bureaucratic and adversarial nature of making such requests, and many of us simply won’t, effectively making our jobs harder and feeding into the false narrative of our capabilities.
Additionally, the medical field often discounts our experiences. If ailments aren’t found on routine tests, they are frequently deemed imaginary. This constant need to defend our reality is exhausting.
Socially, the unpredictability of our health means we sometimes have to decline invitations, leading to perceptions of flakiness. Chronic pain and fatigue turn every decision into a game-time choice, based on our body's state that day. The Crip Tax also includes spending time defending yourself to people who don't believe you, expending extra energy from our already limited supply, defending our right to exist.
This tax is a lifetime of financial, psychological, and emotional burdens that seem only to increase.
What did I leave out? Sound off in the comments. Additionally, share your thoughts with NPR for an upcoming feature story.
Selma Blair on Getting “Back on Track” With MS Treatment: People Don’t “Get How Expensive It Is to Be Disabled”
