For a long time I have sat with the question of why online ableist comments affect me so much. I think the truth of it comes down to this: they shatter my false sense of security that, societally, we’ve made huge progress since the days of my childhood, growing up in the ’90s. When I scroll through the comment sections of larger disabled influencers, I don’t just find the negativity and hatred jarring — I find it wholly triggering. It takes me right back to being 8 years old, having my wheelchair stolen from me, and being called all manner of names by those who were meant to be friends. I see those same schoolyard bullies, now adults, spreading their vile vitriol online, and I simply cannot brush it off like others so nobly do.
We’re told, especially during the month of July, to feel proud of who we are and the life that we lead as disabled individuals. But it’s hard to feel proud when so many are rooting against you. When the price for existing and being ‘accepted’ in society is to be forever grateful to those doing the accepting, for whatever crumbs of involvement they decide to throw our way. And crumbs they shall remain, for give us too much involvement and suddenly it’s tokenism — or heaven forbid, a diversity hire.
Finding the ‘pride’ in being a person with a disability is beyond challenging when so much of the world is set up for you to fail. Whether that’s through ableism in real life, harassment online, or simply living in a world that does not, and will not, prioritize inclusive infrastructure.
When it comes to attitudes, a lot of people simply don’t care. I’ve been working with quite a big disabled influencer recently, and so many of the comments I’ve read while helping out have painted a picture devoid of empathy. There’s the usual trope: “why would they spend thousands just so YOU can shop there.” Then there’s the continued encouragement for disabled people to just accept their lot: “not everyone can do everything, hope that helps.”
And don’t get me started on trying to advocate for yourself and other members of the disabled community. I was immediately reminded of the way men call women ‘hysterical’ just for speaking out about something. “You’re rude.” “Your tone is awful.” “Why are you talking to a low-paid worker about this?” “You deserve what happened to you, because all you do is complain.” And by “deserve what happened to you,” they meant both the situation at hand — not being able to access a shop — and, horrifically, in some messages, being disabled in the first place. Every single last one of these comments was left on videos where the person in question was simply trying to advocate for themselves. They were never rude. They were never aggressive. At worst, they were a tiny (and I mean tiny) bit frustrated. If you could stop for a second and put yourself in their shoes, I’m sure you would understand just how frustrating it is to be denied access to goods and services, time and time again, simply because you’re a person who has a disability.
I could go on, and on, and on, citing dozens of examples — both from the influencer I’ve been helping recently, and from others I’ve watched battle the ugliest of trolls. In fact, last year I wrote a piece on this very subject called “Internet Hate.” You can find the link to it on my ‘Editor’s Substack‘ page.
Sadly, the answer is intrinsically linked with the problem. We need better education, and I understand this means we have to punch our way through the hurtful comments, even if they do make my mental health have a little wobble from time to time. We need continued exposure and teachable moments. We need to show the world that living with a disability does not mean you get to be cast aside and forgotten about. That we have so much to offer — academically, professionally, financially, socially. And yet, even in this ‘solution’, the onus is placed on the disabled person to ‘prove themselves.’ The same onus that’s already put on us to ‘call ahead’ whenever we want to go somewhere new. To spend hours researching whether a holiday destination can cater to our needs, rather than simply living in a society where universal design is baked in already, and life is for everyone.
If I had to propose one thing, right away, that could change the course of society, it would be for all schools to implement disability and accessibility studies into their curriculums. A semester or two where kids learn from a young age about the importance of inclusion, and how to interact with — and appropriately help, where needed — those with disabilities. Where accessibility becomes second nature, embedded firmly into the minds of our future society builders. Who knows if we will ever see a time where people won’t be cruel just for laughs — it may be too hardwired into people’s psyches — but I do hope that through education, we can go a long way towards plugging the gaps.
Happy Disability Pride Month, I guess?
