"But I Don't Think of You as Having a Disability?"

When people say that they don’t associate the word “disability” with me or with my daughter, Moxie, I think they mean it as a compliment. It certainly has that tone. “I don’t think of you as having a disability!”

I’m not insulted by these statements. I sense the love for us behind the words, I don’t take it personally.

But it’s not really okay.

Because, you see, we do have disabilities. Moxie has Down syndrome and I am deaf. I also have PTSD and a traumatic brain injury (TBI). Moxie has already had intense discrimination leveled at her despite her being only four years old. Indeed, her very name was chosen on the basis that she had already earned it by the time she was born.

And I have been fired from jobs for not being able to hear. I have had a very difficult time with school, relationships, self-esteem and life in general on the basis of my disabilities.

I am intelligent. So is Moxie. I have a decent education. Moxie will too. I can walk, so can my daughter. And we both have a particular way of hearing, perceiving, thinking and feeling that readies us for a lifetime of discrimination and prejudice. We are both prime candidates for being sexually and emotionally abused. In my case, I was, in Moxie’s case, I’ll give my life to ensure she remains safe.

But we both have disabilities.

At this point in my own sojourn on earth, I am proud of the fact that I, myself, have a disability, and it is part of my identity. I look back on my past and view struggles that I’ve had by dint of my (lack of) hearing or the way I think or feel, and I know I’ve done well. Not despite my disability – I’ve done well because of my disability.

Which is to say: I have always wanted to experience life fully – the good, the bad, the full spectrum.

There is no way I would have ever experienced life to the extent that I have, were it not for my disability. I would have never known how it is to be discriminated against, and the way that prejudice feels when it’s aimed at you. I wouldn’t have developed the tools that I employ daily. I wouldn’t have become an intuitive, observant and perceptive person had I not been disabled.

Our having disabilities is not an assessment of our ability. It’s merely a statement of fact in the way that we think, hear and feel. No more, no less.

So instead of saying, “I don’t think of you as having a disability,” You might want to say, “*and* you have a disability.” It’s not something to be ashamed of. It’s not something I’ve overcome. It’s not something that is meant to inspire. It’s like the color of my skin, the curl in my hair… it’s simply a part of who I am.

Meriah Nichols writes about travel, disability and parenting. Deaf, she is also the mother of Moxie, who has Down syndrome. Meriah blogs at meriahnichols.com, and is currently overland traveling
with her family in Mexico. You can also follow her on Facebook"http://www.facebook.com/withalittlemoxie and "Twitter.