Words have power

The Last Leg, that fabulous show, announced its guest for this week's edition a couple of days back - and it's reignited an old controversy.

That guest is Ricky Gervais, and many people are concerned that a programme which got its start during the London Paralympics, and is still very disability-focused, should have as guest the man who notoriously called people "mongs", and who made Derek, a series about a man with learning difficulties, which again was widely felt to be insensitive and offensive.

Those of us who have expressed our concerns to The Last Leg's Twitter account have had many replies from Ricky Gervais fans, who don't share our concerns (to put it mildly). I've sent several of them the link to a previous post here about it, because of the space limitations on Twitter. This post is about something slightly different, though.

When someone is asked not to use certain words as insults (retard, mong, spastic, crazy... etc etc), a frequent response is, "But I wasn't talking about real disabled people!" Thing is, that's not good enough. And here's why.

If you call your slightly socially awkward friend "autistic", or describe yourself self-deprecatingly as "OCD" because you like your house to be tidy, what you're saying is being like that is a bad thing. That people with those conditions are "less than". So I'm sorry dude, but you were talking about real disabled people.

Words have power. They can empower, or they can diminish. If someone with a disability (or from another oppressed group) asks you not to use a certain word because it's offensive, is it really that much trouble to think of an alternative? It's not being PC - it's having decent manners. That's all there is to it.

In which I make the mistake of having an opinion about The Voice and disability.

Saturday night saw the final of The Voice on BBC1. Yes, I watch The Voice. Deal with it. It was won by Andrea Begley, who has a severe visual impairment.

But why am I mentioning her disability before her (really rather good) voice, you ask? Well frankly, it was impossible to ignore, the show rammed it down our throats so much.

• Every video, every link, it was mentioned.
• I began to think her middle name was Inspirational. Andrea Inspirational Begley. What makes her inspirational over any of the other competitors? Could it be...maybe...nope. No idea. At all. /sarcasm
• In training videos, Andrea dressed pretty much like the other female competitors: skinny jeans, heels, fitted tops. This makes me suspect that the way she was styled for each show was not her own taste, and was possibly designed to elicit the "ahh" factor. While the other women were in short skirts and tight trousers, Andrea was wearing what I described one week as "my first grown up party dress, aged 12". And always, always the milk-bottle glasses, reminding us of her visual impairment, though I discovered on Google Images while finding pictures for this post that in fact she doesn't always wear them. This chimes with the infantilisation of disabled people, seen as permanently child-like, their every achievement seen as more praiseworthy than that of someone able-bodied.
• Andrea's coach on the show, Danny O'Donoghue, habitually referred to her as having "the voice of an angel". Andrea's voice is good, but I wouldn't characterise it as particularly angelic. (What does an angel sound like anyway?) Could this be an example of a disabled person being perceived as the eternal innocent? During one of her songs, the tangentially relevant My Immortal, the production even projected a pair of angel wings behind Andrea's shoulders. One (non-disabled) person on my Twitter timeline commented that Andrea was lucky to be blind: she couldn't see them.

So far, so irritating. This was when I made my big mistake. Immediately after the result was announced, I tweeted the following.

Tweeted in anger, I fully admit, and also in pique because my favourite, Leah McFall, hadn't won. But I thought the meaning was clear, specifically the use of the word "if". IF you voted for Andrea because you think she has a wonderful voice, that's cool. But IF you voted for her because she's disabled and brave and inspiring and aww,  then...well, the tweet says it.

Twitter's a funny place, though. If you dare to express an opinion, there are quite a few people who won't actually bother to read it properly, and just attack you instead. I was called quite a variety of things, most of which I wouldn't repeat on here. My block button was red-hot.

But the interesting thing was that several of them said I was the first person to mention that Andrea was blind. Really? Had they been watching the same show I had? Some of what I've mentioned above is fairly subtle, I agree, but the show had been blatant in their mentions of her disability, from her audition on.

As had Andrea herself, in fact. Despite saying she wanted to be judged on her voice rather than her disability, she talked about it in nearly every video. Reality show contestants are always victims to the edit, of course, but editors can only take things out, not add them in.

So what conclusions can I draw from this? I could try not to have so many opinions...but I don't think that's going to happen any day soon. I definitely need not to engage with trolls, just to ignore and block them. I don't need the stress. But you know, isn't it kind of worrying how ingrained disablism is in our society, that people don't even notice something as obvious as this?

PS As I've finished typing this, there's been an interview with Andrea on BBC Breakfast News. First question. "Tell us about your sight?"

#BADD Growing Up Beside You

This is Imperial Place, Borehamwood.

A few days ago, someone asked me for directions to get there. I gave the directions. Off he trotted. I assume he got there - I have no reason to think he didn't.

OK, I hear you say. But why am I telling you this little anecdote?

Well, he asked me. There were other people around, but he asked me - the woman in the wheelchair. Unless you use a wheelchair yourself, you have no idea how rare this is.

You're much more likely to find someone looking at you like you're a bit weird because you're laughing, or standing up, or walking a few steps (YOU FRAUD!), or smoking a cigarette, or getting things off the top shelf in the supermarket, or clothes shopping, or drinking alcohol.

I mean, how dare I have anything approaching a normal life? I'm a cripple! It's surprising enough to see me out on my own without a minder, never mind doing things that everyone else - regular people, whose legs and stuff work - does.

Why does this happen? There has been a tradition of "Othering" disabled people, setting up an "us and them" dichotomy. Once disabled people are established as "them", they are seen as one homogenous mass. At the very most, they are split into "wheelchair users", "blind people", "deaf people" and so on. Within each sub-group, there is no scope for variation. So, for instance, a punk rocker using a wheelchair is far more shocking than an able-bodied punk rocker would be.

Other wheelchair users like myself may have experienced the shock it causes when they stand up, or walk a few paces. The standard definition of the subgroup "wheelchair user" is "totally unable to walk", and many members of the general population with no experience of disability are completely thrown by any standing or walking ability.

Similarly, use of a wheelchair is associated in many people's minds with learning difficulties. I have had an assistant in Clinton's Cards telling me how to use a book of stamps. (I told her I was doing a PhD and I thought I would cope.)

What can be done to counter this Othering? More and more exposure to more and more disabled people, showing our variety and the realities of our different lives, and how close they are in so many ways to the lives of everyone else in the world. Yes, that needs a more accessible society and a decent welfare system, so we're maybe talking long-term. But there are some good guys out there already. Think back to my Imperial Place experience.

Each individual like that who "gets it" is one more person who can spread the word that disabled people are - in the end - just people. It's best when it starts in childhood. So what we need to do is for you to grow up beside me, and I'll grow up beside you. Paolo Nutini says it well, I think.

This is my post for Blogging Against Disablism Day 2013. You can find the other links on Goldfish's great blog (which I recommend in general!) here.

The #OscarPistorius case: a fallen hero, a horror story, and sick jokes

For as long as I can remember, I've been an athletics fan. It's such a pure form of sport: who can run fastest, jump furthest or highest, throw furthest? It's competitive, but each individual is trying to beat their own personal best mark as well as the competitor in the next lane.

Historically, Paralympic sport has been far less prominent than mainstream, so it's been great to see South African Oscar Pistorius, the "Blade Runner", become one of the best known world sportsmen over the last few years,

Although he was already well known in Paralympic sport, his real fame came after he challenged the IAAF to be allowed to take part in mainstream events. They felt that his artificial legs gave him an advantage over able-bodied runners, claiming he had to use less energy to run with them.

After an appeal, Pistorius was cleared to run with able-bodied athletes, and in 2012 in London he became the first double amputee to compete in an Olympic Games. He also won 2 gold and one silver medal in the 2012 Paralympic Games.

It seemed that Oscar Pistorius was truly the golden boy of the Paralympics movement, and of South Africa. He was a hero to millions around the world (including me) and a role model to disabled young people. What could possibly go wrong?

Early in the morning of 14th February 2013, Oscar Pistorius shot and killed his girlfriend, model and campaigner Reeva Steenkamp. That is not in doubt. The reason for the shooting is: whether it was deliberate or accidental.

I'm not a lawyer, nor was I in the courtroom for the bail hearing, nor obviously in Pistorius's apartment. So I'll confine myself to saying that Reeva Steenkamp's life has been cut tragically short, and her family's lives blighted. And whatever happened, Pistorius will never be the same golden young man again.

Within minutes of news of the shooting appearing on sites like Twitter and Facebook, the jokes started. You would think jokes about a tragic death would be tasteless enough, but these focused on Pistorius's impairment. The same has happened with other disabled personalities, including swimmer Ellie Simmonds after last year's Paralympics.

I'm all for jokes. Humour makes the world go round. But a lot of humour is about power dynamics. As someone put it (sorry, I can't remember who), you can punch up or punch sideways, but punching down just isn't on. As a group, disabled people are less powerful than able-bodied people in society, so by making jokes about their disabilities able-bodied people are punching down.

Disablism isn't always as simple as physical attacks or direct insults against people with disabilities. And being told "Don't be daft, it's just a joke!" or "You just don't have a sense of humour!" doesn't help.

After the UK's excellent performance both in the delivery of the Olympic and Paralympic Games and in competition, it seemed possible that the legacy would include a new attitude to disabled people. On this evidence? Maybe not. We still have a long way to go.

#BADD Dead Happy, Derek, and disablism

Recently employees of a Cambridge clothing company, Dead Happy, thought up a promotional scheme. They wanted fans of the company to put stickers, preferably rude, onto the back of mobility scooters, then take photos to upload onto Facebook.

I should stress that this wasn't official company policy: as soon as the boss of the company found out about it, he removed the Facebook posts in question. The police have taken the incident very seriously, and at the last report, were speaking to those concerned.

But it's just a prank, right? What harm can it do?

I haven't blogged so far about Ricky Gervais's pilot show Derek, partly because I wasn't sure myself what my feelings were about it. Was I uncomfortable about the idea because I've never really been a fan of Gervais? Because I was unconvinced by his conversion after "mong-gate" last year? Apparently he's been using the word "mong" in his stage act for several years, followed by a mock-coy "I'm not supposed to say that, am I?", so his protestations thaat he didn't know the word was offensive ring hollow.

Gervais insisted that Derek isn't disabled, saying that:

Derek is a fictional character and is defined by his creator. Me. If I say I don't mean him to be disabled then that’s it. A fictional doctor can't come along and prove me wrong.

Well, that all sounds fine. Except that to me, and the huge majority of people I know who watched the programme, Derek very clearly was disabled, either with mild learning difficulties or (some people suggested) on the autistic spectrum. The people I'm talking about are people with disabilities themselves, or parents of children with autism. Y'know, people who actually know what they're talking about when it comes to disability, unlike Ricky Gervais - remember he claimed not to know that "mong" was an offensive term for people with Down's syndrome?

What effect did Gervais want Derek to produce in the viewer? Well the programme was billed as a "comedy drama". Looking at the hashtag #Derek on Twitter during the programme, most mainstream viewers seemed to find it very funny - but they were laughing at Derek, not with him. A minority found the programme sad, because of Derek's condition.

Afterwards, Ricky Gervais tweeted:

One review of Derek said they weren't sure if they were meant to laugh or cry. I'd suggest that whatever happened was the correct response

Some writers can produce work that makes the viewer both laugh and cry. Is Gervais one such? I would suggest not on this evidence, because he encourages people to laugh at his characters and sympathise with them, rather than laughing with and empathising with them.

But what harm can a TV programme do?

Well, a couple of days after the programme was broadcast, I was at my local shops. A bunch of kids yelled "Oi, Derek!" at me. I'm female, I don't have learning difficulties, and I use a wheelchair. The only similarity I can think of between me and Derek is...we're both disabled. For these kids at least, the programme was making disabled people in general into objects of derision and targets for abuse.

And there's evidence that as disablist speech becomes more common, so does disablist hate crime. A report at the end of 2011 showed that hate crime had risen by more than 75% in one year. Disabled people report being spat at, having faeces pushed through their letterboxes, and even being tipped out of their wheelchairs or physically attacked.

In just one terrible example, Fiona Pilkington killed her disabled daughter then committed suicide after years of constant abuse from local youths. In at least one case, a man who called the police several times to report abuse was recorded as a nuisance caller.

The reasons for this rise are many. One is the prevailing "anti-scrounger" rhetoric from the Government and the red-tops,which has the tendency to paint all disabled people (working or not) as thieves, stealing undeserved monies from the apocryphal "hard-working taxpayer".

But another has to be the dehumanisation of disabled people. If we're suitable objects for laughter - or pity - than what does it matter if you take it a little further? We're not like them, after all. We're different. But somehow, all the same: all disabled.

If you're the victim of disability hate crime (or any other kind), please report it. You'll get the support you need, the offenders will hopefully be dealt with, and it'll send out a message to the wider community that this is just not acceptable.

And who knows? Maybe, just maybe, one day Ricky Gervais will work out that the way he takes the mickey out of the disabled really isn't funny!

This is my post for Blogging Against Disablism Day 2012. Follow the link to the Goldfish's always excellent blog for lots more blog posts on the general topic of disablism.

Gleeless #badd2011

This post is part of Blogging Against Disablism Day 2011, being run by Goldfish over at Diary of a Goldfish. Check it out for many superb posts on the general topic of disability and disablism

I confessed in a previous post to being a hardened and unashamed Gleek - addicted to the TV show Glee. I love its mixture of music, corny humour, and a huge dollop of cheese on top. One thing that's concerned me, though, is the programme's portrayal of disability.

Three stereotypes of disability are often used to typify people with impairments in mainstream media:

• The disabled person who wants to be "normal"
• The disabled person as pitiful, innocent and good
• The disabled person as evil

There are three obviously disabled characters in Glee. I'll consider them separately, as I believe that each represents a different one of these stereotypes.

Artie Abrams, played by the able-bodied Kevin Hale, uses a wheelchair following a car accident when he was 8. He dreams of some day walking again: at one point he tries (and fails) to stand using crutches, and his girlfriend at the time, Tina, researches spinal cord injury treatments for him. In the current season he tries out for the school football team. In a daydream, he dances upright again.

Artie typifies the "disabled person longing to be normal".

The other two obviously disabled characters in the show both appear to have Down's Syndrome.

The first is Jean Sylvester, sister of the evil cheerleading coach Sue Sylvester. She is played by Robin Trocki, and appears in the show only occasionally. Although Sue is the "baddie" in the programme, she does occasionally show acts of kindness, often flagged up none too subtly with a visit to Jean in her Assisted Living home immediately before or afterwards. Jean's unquestioning love for Sue seems to act as her conscience, to make her act in a way that is otherwise out of character for her.

Jean typifies the "disabled person as pitiful, innocent and good"

The last of the obviously disabled characters, also linked with Sue Sylvester, is Becky Jackson, played by Lauren Potter. Sue accepts Becky into the cheerleading squad, the strong implication being that this is because Sue's sister also has Down's Syndrome. However she rapidly becomes Sue's understudy and "mini-me", helping her in her devious plots, sitting in judgement in cheerleader auditions, and so on.

Becky typifies the "disabled person as evil"

Really, the only one we're missing is "disabled person as brave" and we'd have the complete set. Actually, thinking about it, in season 1 an episode called Laryngitis featured Sean, an American football player who'd become paralysed from the upper chest down in a game. And yes, he'd learned to deal with it, a person is not just one thing, the whole nine yards. So we have our complete set.

Probably the most controversy has been caused by Kevin McHale's portrayal of Artie: why is an able-bodied person playing the role of a wheelchair user? Studio bosses claim that they auditioned both able-bodied and disabled actors, but it was difficult to find anyone who could really act, really sing, and had the level of charisma required. But y'know...why were they auditioning able-bodied actors for the part of a disabled kid in the first place?

Glee still hasn't worked out how to show disability properly. Really good depictions of disability involve characters who just happen to be disabled, not characters whose every storyline centres around their disability. Let's hope they finally take some advice from the many disability organisations who are trying to show them the way.