Disability is like any other complex relationship, filled with highs and lows. Some days are easy, some days are challenging, and some days we triumph over societal barriers—lack of access, accommodations, empathy, or compassion. And then there are days when we’re simply too exhausted to fight and need time to recoup. We don’t owe anyone 24/7 optimism, even during Disability Pride Month, but that doesn’t mean our lives hold any less value.
My entrepreneurial father Craig Honick once told me, “Advocate so well you put yourself out of business.” It’s a lofty goal I still think about often. Ideally, we’d live in a world where disability awareness is ingrained in our societal fabric. But we’re not there yet. So, we fight. The progress we’ve made excites us, but the fight is exhausting, and we feel it deeply. As the calendar flips to a new month, we’ll still be here, fighting, and we’ll still be disabled.
Throughout this month, I and other advocates have spotlighted daily examples of our community’s struggle for basic equity and inclusion. But awareness without action is empty. Now that you’re aware of the struggles, what are you going to do? Too often, our voices are drowned out by our non-disabled peers. So here’s our ask: pass the mic when you can, amplify our stories, and when you see something wrong, speak up. We need your allyship not just in July, but all year long.
Emily Ladau put it best on the latest episode of The Accessible Stall podcast: “Sometimes I just don’t feel like practicing [Disability Pride]. I’m exhausted.” This sentiment resonates deeply. Pride in our disability is indeed an ongoing practice, a muscle that needs stretching. Awareness is step one. What will you do to be a better ally once the spotlight dims?
Here are some actionable steps to support disability advocacy and inclusion:
• Educate Yourself and Others: Learn about the issues facing the disability community and share this knowledge with those around you.
• Amplify Disabled Voices: Use your platform to highlight the stories and experiences of disabled individuals. Folks like Kristen Parisi, Tiffany A. Yu, MSc, Alexa Heinrich, Marisa Hamamoto, Margaux Joffe, CPACC, 🦻 Meryl Evans, CPACC (deaf), Keely Cat-Wells, Julie Harris, Jamie Shields, Catarina Rivera, MSEd, MPH, CPACC, Donna Cruz Jones, Sheri Byrne-Haber (disabled) and so many others who do amazing work.
• Advocate for Accessibility: Push for accessible practices in your workplace, community, and beyond. Accessibility benefits everyone.
• Offer Genuine Support: Ask disabled people what support looks like for them and follow through.
• Speak Up: When you see discrimination or inaccessibility, don’t stay silent. Use your voice to advocate for change.
Let’s move beyond just awareness. Let’s take action together to create a more inclusive and equitable world for all. Your allyship matters every day.
One Step Away: Reflecting on Trump's Narrow Escape and Disability
This weekend's events at Donald Trump's rally in Pennsylvania have left us all grappling with numerous questions. How could such a security failure occur? What were the motivations behind the shooting? How will this historic moment reshape US politics in the 2024 election? Amidst the whirlwind of these discussions, one question has been persistently echoing in my mind: What does this assassination attempt say about our current views on disability in this country?
As someone who lives with multiple disabilities, this question is not just rhetorical. Former President Donald Trump has openly and notoriously mocked disabled individuals and wounded veterans. The irony is that by sheer luck, he narrowly avoided becoming part of the community he has so often disparaged. This incident starkly reminds us that we are all just one moment away from joining the ranks of the disabled community.
During the chaos following the shooting, Democratic strategist Johnny Palmadessa told Reuters he witnessed elderly and disabled attendees struggling to evacuate the venue. He described scenes of mothers shielding their children from bullets, husbands protecting their wives, and elderly people giving up on trying to escape because they couldn't move quickly enough. Palmadessa observed, "I watched elderly people struggle to leave fast enough. Some of them practically gave up and decided, I'm just going to wait here because I can't get out right now. That's not okay."
This heartbreaking reality is all too familiar to many of us in the disability community. During emergencies, our needs are often overlooked, leaving us vulnerable and, at times, resigned to our fate. The U.S. Secret Service, while prioritizing the protection of the president, has a responsibility to ensure the safety of all attendees, including those with disabilities. Their failure to do so at this event is a glaring oversight that demands immediate rectification.
The broader implications of this incident extend beyond just the physical safety of disabled individuals at public events. It forces us to confront how deeply ingrained ableism is in our society. Trump's history of mocking disabled individuals is not just offensive; it's indicative of a societal mindset that devalues and disregards the disabled community. As a result, the protections and considerations that should be in place are often absent.
We must advocate for inclusive emergency preparedness plans that account for the needs of disabled individuals. This includes ensuring accessible egress routes, providing adequate assistance during emergencies, and training all personnel on how to effectively support disabled attendees. The Trump assassination attempt is a stark reminder that our current systems are insufficient and that immediate action is necessary to prevent future tragedies.
Why 'Dateable' is the Book Every Disabled Person Needs
Today, I am reflecting on the incredible opportunity to be featured in the transformative book, "Dateable" by Jessica Slice and Caroline Cupp. This book is a definitive primer on dating with a disability, and I couldn't be more grateful for the chance to contribute to this important text.
Representation in media and literature is crucial for people with disabilities. "Dateable" fills a significant gap by addressing the unique challenges and triumphs we face in the dating world. The book tackles the lack of representation and role models that can prevent us from seeing ourselves as desirable, romantic, and dateable. As the authors poignantly state, "There are huge numbers of disabled people dating, hooking up, and marrying. But if we don’t see that playing out on-screen, especially if we operate in actual communities made up of predominantly nondisabled people, it can feel like we’re the only ones on earth trying to figure this out."
One of the key themes in "Dateable" is the struggle against internalized ableism and the complicated questions around disclosing one's disability in the context of dating. The book explores the trauma of dating apps, the biases they perpetuate, and the often painful interactions that come with them. The chapter "S*?! (AHEM, STUFF) PEOPLE SAY" features my own story, an anecdote encapsulating the absurdity and the humor that often accompany dating with a disability. The book uses humor to address serious topics, making them more accessible and relatable. I often speak about my medical history and experiences, but having one of my favorite stories immortalized in print, with its perfect mix of humor and reality, is truly special.
"Dateable" provides a platform to advocate for disability rights and awareness. The book doesn't shy away from difficult topics like the fetishization of disability, the need for open communication and consent, and the challenges of navigating sex and relationships with various disabilities. It shines a light on the broader societal changes needed to foster a more inclusive understanding of dating with a disability.
"Dateable" is the book I wish I had when I was younger, coming to terms with my body, its limitations, and what it would mean for my life in the dating space. It’s a book that every disabled person should read, regardless of where they are in their dating journey. It reminds us that our disability makes us just as human, dateable, and desirable as anyone else. Our dating lives may be more complicated, but we deserve to be represented, talked about, and yes, sexualized. We date, we love, we break up, we struggle just like everybody else, and this book puts all of that front and center unapologetically.
Thank you, Jessica and Caroline, for putting this book into the world. It was so needed and could not have come at a more perfect time.
No Way to Run a Country? The Harmful Narratives of Ableism in Media
As a disability advocate, I am often reminded of the pervasive ableism that infiltrates many aspects of our society. The recent cover of The Economist, depicting a walker with the presidential seal and the caption "No way to run a country," is a stark example of this issue. Regardless of political views or the current debates around President Biden's fitness, framing his capability to govern based on a disability is not only cruel but highlights a deep-seated ableism that must be addressed.
This kind of representation perpetuates harmful stereotypes, suggesting that those who use mobility aids are less capable. Such images can have far-reaching consequences, reinforcing negative perceptions and fostering environments where people with disabilities feel pressured to hide their conditions. The Economist should be ashamed of themselves for this front-page cover and for continuing to push a harmful narrative that deems individuals with disabilities as less competent.
The Economist's cover is not just an isolated incident; it reflects a broader issue within media representation. This portrayal underscores the editorial team's lack of understanding and empathy toward disability. It's a reminder of the significant work needed to educate and shift societal perspectives. Media outlets have a powerful influence on public opinion, and with that power comes the responsibility to portray all individuals fairly and accurately.
This is not the first time we've seen such blatant ableism in politics. Senator John Fetterman faced criticism for using assistive technology to perform his duties, with many questioning his ability to serve. While the office of the President is indeed a different challenge, ableism should have no place in our political discussions. As advocates, we must highlight these issues and push for a more inclusive narrative recognizing the capabilities of all individuals.
Ableist portrayals like The Economist's cover can discourage employees from disclosing their disabilities, fearing judgment and discrimination. This reluctance prevents many from accessing necessary accommodations that could enhance their productivity and well-being. It's crucial that we create workplaces where disability disclosure is met with support and understanding, not prejudice.
To combat these harmful narratives, media organizations must take actionable steps to improve their representation of individuals with disabilities. This includes hiring more people with disabilities in visible roles, consulting with disability advocates when creating content, and committing to ongoing education on disability issues. By doing so, they can help dismantle ableist stereotypes and promote a more inclusive society.
Let's use this moment to spark a conversation about ableism in the media and beyond.
Breaking Stereotypes: The Unspoken Truth About Sexuality and Disability
So, here we are, celebrating Disability Pride Month. And you know what that means, right? No, not just the extra wheelchair-friendly ramps (though those are nice). It's time to talk about something that makes people more jittery than a squirrel on espresso: the sexual lives of people with disabilities.
As a person with disabilities myself, I've experienced firsthand the assumptions and stereotypes that can cloud this discussion.
In a powerful op-ed for Teen Vogue, Shatika Turner, a member of Planned Parenthood of Greater New York Advisory Council on Accessible Sex Education, eloquently stated, "The most harmful misconceptions when it comes to people with disabilities are that we don’t have sexual lives, our disabilities define our identities, or that we don’t experience a spectrum of sexual orientations or gender identities."
I couldn't agree more. From my dating life to interactions with medical professionals, I've faced surprise and disbelief when inquiring about reproductive healthcare or expressing my sexual desires. It's as if my wheelchair and service dog automatically desexualize me in the eyes of others. But let me be clear: my disability does not erase my sexuality.
In 2019, I was featured in Dan Savage's Savage Love Column, where I discussed the importance of recognizing and celebrating the sexual agency of people with disabilities. As I told Savage, "It's estimated that one in five people have a disability... So I would encourage [people] to use some of the mainstream apps—like Tinder, OkCupid, Bumble Inc., or Match—and put what they're after front and center."
So, this Disability Pride Month, let's break down these misconceptions. Let's talk about sex and disability. Let's make it as normal as discussing the weather or the latest episode of whatever reality TV show is popular these days.
Let's ensure that our sexual education curriculums are inclusive, affirming, and safe for our community. Let's normalize these discussions instead of hiding them in the shadows because of ignorance and discomfort.
Because guess what? People with disabilities have sex. We date. We fall in love. We break up. We swipe right and left. And it's high time we acknowledged that.
We are individuals with our own desires, needs, and identities. We deserve to be seen, heard, and understood in all aspects of our lives, including our sexual lives.
People With Disabilities Deserve Comprehensive Sex Education