OP-ED: How I hope lockdown will change the way we look at disability

By Meelina Isayas

So often, be it in the midst of political debate or casual conversations on life with close friends discussing the social inequalities affecting people with physical disabilities, the irreducible conclusion remains, that “people won’t know unless it happens to them” – a bleak, and unfortunate prospect to come to terms with.

It is true, time and time again, I’ve been hit with the reality that any health issue which renders you “other” is something that can only be firmly or better understood when said person or group of people are also ‘othered’ by similar circumstance(s).

So here we are. This horrendous virus has confined most people to their homes presumably against their will. Indeed, this is likely to be a strange concept to non-disabled people, but by contrast, is most likely familiar to nearly all of us with disabilities.

To give an example, many people have now been given the option to work from home- a necessary and convenient provision. However, where is the understanding. towards the hundreds of thousands of disabled people in employment who for whatever medical reason need to work from home? – it is often non-existent. Many of whom are therefore fired instead.

Another example is that policies in education, and how students were awarded their grades, changed. There is more leniency that exists now than in previous times.

These adjustments in such awful times are unquestionably justifiable. However, it is saddening yet unsurprising that it has taken us to be in the wake of death to begin to have some understanding of what it is like for many disabled people every day. I understand that this is a global crisis which excludes no person, regardless of their abilities. However, disabled people, because we are curtly refused the access arrangements we need to ensure equity and maintain our legal ‘rights’, are effectively living in an ongoing ‘crisis’. This excludes any of the unfortunate universal experiences we all face as part of being human. Disabled people face a daily crisis just by the mere fact we are disabled. It too often passes the gaze of our non-disabled counterparts.

Now, suddenly, those without disabilities are rightfully slowing down to a pace conventionally castigated for being ‘too slow’ and often mocked when in actuality it’s perhaps my everyday pace.

The crucial difference is, of course, that now nobody is made to feel guilty about slowing down or taking a break.

This is not only because most of our ‘normal life’ has been put on hold in a physical sense, but also because we may all in some way, be experiencing difficulties with our mental health (or it may have worsened for those with pre-existing mental health conditions). Not surprising since being bound to the walls of ours homes (if we are privileged to have a roof over our head) can cause us to be anxious, sad, depressed or uncertain about the future. Feelings that most of us, if not all, have felt at some point in our lives especially in such unprecedented times. I should perhaps emphasise that I unreservedly recognise that there are multiple contributors to a decline in mental wellbeing in any form, and everyone’s experience of such case is valid, irrespective of our privileges or whether or not we are disabled.

Rather, what it is I am trying to express is that now we are hopefully (finally) realising how harmful traditional, capitalist structures have always been for disabled people— to our bodies and our minds. We have never benefited from institutions or mentalities that promote linear ways to live, work or educate ourselves.

My personal experience is that such pressures to conform to this have only led me to feel a sense of hopelessness that is unique to the disabled experience that no one should ever have to feel. No one should have to feel like they can never succeed in the way they desire because their disability prohibits them from conforming to ableist standards. You, who demand us to not rest, or to feel like we are missing out because much of our extremely privileged means of ‘living our best lives’ revolves so much around movement and ‘getting things done’. The long hours of the school day are also a brilliant example. Between working long hours, revising endlessly for tests, writing essays or meeting up with friends there is little time to rest. Our society has equated relentless movement to the highest good. If our happiness, success and the respect we receive from others is contingent on how physically productive we are, then we leave disabled people with very little choice.

This poses a threat to mental wellness. Yet now we understand the mental effects of those who are, for example, chronically ill, bedridden and haven’t left the house in five years. This is not my story, but I have missed out on many things due to severe fatigue. The truth is, although we’re all facing the threat of the virus, humanity has never had equal amounts of inequality in the first place.

There is strength in the collective hope that we will make a return to a ‘normal’ that we are more familiar with. Whatever that looks like, I hope it is one that starts to give greater empathy towards disabled people. This is because if and when the pandemic lifts, I will still be the same, doing the 10-minute walk I can manage and taking breaks in between, napping throughout the day, and trying my best to do everything on time, and whilst you may be able to get more done or faster, I hope you’ll respect the way disabled people have always been living our lives.