Have you ever had a pebble in your shoe, felt a twinge in a calf muscle, or in your back? Of course you have, and until you remove the pebble a couple of steps on, or until the twinge simply ‘goes away,’ as most do, you will be annoyed, frustrated, and even angry. How would you like to be like this all the time?
It’s almost natural, almost human nature, to see the disabled as imperfect, and in fact research has shown that we see the physically disabled as also being intellectually disabled. When we are ‘scanning’ for companionship, relationships, and interactions, research has also shown that we quickly dismiss those with disabilities. Are we really so banal and shallow? Well, apparently so. Andrew Steptoe, in the prestigious Lancet Medical Journal, wrote that it is the “risk of emotional distress,” and not intellect, that can be identified as a consequence of impaired mobility, which implies that we don’t offer enough emotional and psychological support for those who are disabled. We have much to answer for then, don’t we?
Put yourself in the shoes, so to speak, of someone with a disability, whether it is a birth defect or trauma doesn’t matter, then think about how you would see yourself, in order to reflect upon how others would see you. It’s not, for want of a better expression, a ‘pretty picture’ is it? We are really quick to make assumptions, to make invalid assumptions, and even when we know what is coming next, like the ‘how you see yourself,’ was always going to be followed by ‘how others would see you.’
It’s just that whether it’s our survival of the fittest instincts kicking in, or whether our basest instinct is the reproductive hesitancy of thinking ahead far enough that “we don’t want a child that is less than perfect.’ So let’s step away for a moment, from the clearly selfish perspectives of ourselves, and have some consideration, some reflection on the myriad of stress factors, transitions, evaluations, revaluations, and adjustments that our disabled societies face. Culturally, their lives either never have been, or never will be, the same, and most of the time, that’s because of us.
Knowing, or realising one has a disability must be incredibly shocking, in so many ways, emotionally, physically, and mentally destabilizing. The defence mechanism of denial would frequently rear its ugly head, anger would be ever-present, and depression an absolute consequence, and how long do you imagine, in their place, you would mourn your loss before finding a level of social status and acceptance you could live with? In their place, could you, would you be able to rationalize the grief you experience every time you see your reflection, you watch your peers at play, or consider your future prospects? Be honest now!
How on earth do they rationalise the million and one adjustments they must make? How do they see potential as anything other than painful, or expectations as anything other than facile conjecture? How do they adjust to the realization that many of their earlier hopes are now, not just dreams, but false hopes, betrayals that must hurt even more, and make the emotional transition an incredibly meaningful journey? Ironically, not a journey for the weak, but the immeasurably strong. How do they not withdraw into themselves? How do they not cry? How do they internalize their anger and not become aggressive. How do they accept their lot? I don’t know. They are better than most of us!
You have a disability? You are still you, and better than I. I have read that in every way that matters, disability does not alter who you are. Yes, it alters yours, and others concepts of who you are, however your faith, belief, ancestry, heritage, and qualities, are still all you, and we would be better to offer you our respect, than our pity.
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