Proper Terminology: Don’t Use “Confined to” or “Wheelchair Bound”

The terms “confined to a wheelchair” and “wheelchair bound” are judgements by people without disabilities about how it would be to live life in a wheelchair. For those who do not rely on wheelchairs, they may see life in a wheelchair as limiting, confining and restricting. For those who rely on wheelchairs, we know that the opposite is true; wheelchairs offer mobility, freedom, and independence. Without a wheelchair I would have been stuck at home for an entire decade. With my wheelchair I was able to start a non-profit organization, volunteer in the community, be active in sports, have a great social life, and be independent. At no point, in my ten years of using a wheelchair, did I ever feel confined or bound. I felt free, independent, and able to participate as a productive member in our society thanks to my wheelchair.

For many, their only access to information about people with disabilities is through the media. Unfortunately, the media often reinforces the idea that people who use wheelchairs are confined or limited, because the stories they tell are negative or place the person in a wheelchair in a victim role. People watch these stories, and if they do not know someone who uses a wheelchair, they believe that they correctly reflect life with a wheelchair. The message they receive is that a person in a wheelchair is confined, bound or unable. The truth is that people who rely on mobility aids have the same goals, hopes and plans for their lives as those who have mobility unaided by a wheelchair. Confinement is not a true reflection of a wheelchair, even though it is the prevalent image in the media. In my work, as Executive Director of Citizens for Accessible Neighbourhoods, I have met many people in wheelchairs who live full, active, productive lives, and that is in large part thanks to the mobility and freedom that their wheelchair affords them. It is true that there are a lot of accessibility issues that create barriers for people who use wheelchairs, but the barriers stem from the inaccessibility of communities that aren’t inclusive, not the wheelchair itself.

For those convinced that wheelchairs bind us, or confine us, I ask you to look up Aaron “Wheelz” Fotheringham, an extreme athlete who performs tricks adapted from skateboarding and BMX in his wheelchair. Does he seem restricted by his wheelchair? Or look up Abel Rose, referred to as “Fearless”. Abel has Spina Bifida and uses a wheelchair. He began to wheel himself at nine months, and by eighteen months he became the youngest kid to be involved with WCMX, a company that makes wheelchairs strong enough to take the abuse of a skateboard park.

(Check out his Aaron’s double flip at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z0lLafJSwvA)

Wheelchairs offer access to the world. One of the fastest rising demographics in tourism is people with disabilities. Entire tours are being created for people with wheelchairs. People who use wheelchairs have travelled around the world, and their wheelchairs are key to their ability to do so.

People who use wheelchairs are also active in sports. If there is a sport, it has been adapted to be done by people with disabilities. Take a look at the B.C. Adaptive Sport and Recreation Database on Citizens for Accessible Neighbourhoods’ website (http://www.canbc.org/adaptive_sports.htm). The database currently lists over 60 types of adaptive sports in over 70 communities across B.C. One example of an adapted sport is Power Football (Power Soccer to us North Americans); it was created in France in the early 1970s for people who use power wheelchairs, and brought to Canada in the early 1980s. In 2007 the first World Cup was played in Tokyo, Japan. In 2011 our local organization, SportAbilitiy, and Powerchair Football Canada, sent their very first National PowerChair Football team to the FIFPA World Cup in Paris, France. For these athletes their wheelchairs are key to sport, competition and travel.

I want to take a step back for a moment, and acknowledge that people like Aaron “Wheelz” Fotheringham, Abel Rose and our National PowerChair Football team are extreme examples. I want to acknowledge that they are not indicative of every person who relies on a wheelchair. I want to make sure people don’t hold every person in a wheelchair to these standards. I used these three examples, these three extremes, to, hopefully, once and for all, knock the thought out of people’s heads that wheelchairs are confining, limiting and/or restricting. I did this to make a point, in an extreme way, to ensure it was a lesson not just read, but learned and remembered. But I also want to make the point that for many people, myself included, a wheelchair offers freedom in smaller, more everyday ways, that are just as important. I was able to take transit, go grocery shopping, go to movies with friends, walk the Vancouver Seawall, and volunteer in my community. I didn’t do flips or compete in Paris, but I did get out of my house, I did have a full life, and I did have mobility and freedom thanks to my wheelchair.

For some their wheelchair can offer the chance to get out of bed and transfer to another room in their house, and that in itself is freedom from being confined. For others, their wheelchair offers them the ability to seek out new adventures, whether it be visiting a local park or visiting the Eiffel Tower. Wheelchairs are the tools which enable people with mobility issues to go about their daily lives, whatever that entails. Wheelchairs are tools for mobility, and therefore the terminology of “wheelchair bound” or “confined to a wheelchair” should be eliminated. A person uses their wheelchair, they rely on their wheelchair, they are not confined or restricted by their wheelchair. Please help us change the misperception that wheelchairs are confining. Please strike these terms from popular usage, and when the chance arises, let others know why they, too, should see a wheelchair from the perspective of the millions of people who use them, as tools for independence, freedom, and mobility.

How Bell Let’s Talk Day Could Be Improved

I support any initiative that gets people talking about mental health, however, I have to share some of the issues I have with Bell Let’s Talk Day:
1) I have yet to see a poster, billboard or advertisement with a person who is Indigenous, Asian, Black or Latino. Bell Let’s Talk is a very white campaign.
2) The people in the ads I’ve seen are all post-recovery which is not indicative of everyone with mental health issues. An initiative to start a dialogue about mental health should have a better representation of people with mental health issues at different stages. The current campaign comes across as a sterilized version of mental health.
3) This campaign does not talk about what mental health issues are. When CAN delivers disability awareness seminars, we ask people to list three types of mental health issues and usually about 70% of the room can name one (97% of the time they list depression), 25% can name two and 5% can name three. Instead of focusing solely on the texting fundraiser, it would be good to see Bell use their air time to teach about what some of the mental health issues are.
4) The ads say “Let’s Talk” but don’t offer guidance on how to talk. Dialogue works best when people have a starting point. The commercials and posters I have seen have celebrities texting each other reminding them of Let’s Talk Day but do not include actual information about how to begin a conversation about mental health.
5) We need a Let’s Act Day to follow the Let’s Talk Day because talking is a start but it will only get us so far. Social media is great for raising awareness but mental health needs systemic changes that won’t come from tweets and Facebook posts. Bell has a platform they could use much more effectively. Bell does not use their campaign to bring light to the many community organizations that are working year-round for people with mental health issues. Bell also doesn’t explain in their ads where the money goes that Bell raises every year.
6) While celebrities are good for gaining attention and I understand their involvement, it would be beneficial to see a broader representation of people with mental health issues, including those who are not celebrities. I in no way mean to downplay celebrities who have mental health issues, but their experience is different to someone who does not have the funds to readily access mental health care. Many people with mental health cannot afford care or do not live in areas where care is readily available. Others with mental health issues live in poverty and must go on long wait lists for government funded care or assistance. Again, we need better representation in this campaign of people living with mental health issues, including different economic levels.
7) This campaign does not talk about how Bell actually helps their own employees or what they have done as a business to ensure their employees feel safe and secure in their workplace. This is a platform with which Bell could encourage other businesses to incorporate mental health policies.
8) Bell continues to refuse to offer lower rates for people with disabilities/mental health issues for internet or phone. In BC, our government continually pushes towards phone and online communication and many people with mental health issues cannot afford either. This is a serious barrier to people getting the help and financial support that they need.
9) Politicians feel good about tweeting in support of Bell Let’s Talk Day but don’t do enough the rest of the year to ensure that people with mental health issues get the help they need. Mental health is an ongoing issue and one day is not enough to focus on all the needs of those with mental health issues. This is not Bell’s fault, but it is indicative of how people can feel good for doing something that takes a few seconds, like tweeting, and then ignore the issue for the rest of the year.

I applaud Bell for doing anything at all, even though they are obviously benefiting by this marketing campaign by the free advertising, goodwill from customers and tax breaks from the money they donate. Their campaign has moved the conversation forward for some and they have made some strides in lessening the stigma, but I do feel they are not using their platform as well as they could. We need better representation in their ads, we need action not just talk, and we need more education and not just slogans and hashtags.

Minority Support

As a person with a disability, I know what it is like to be systematically and individually treated like lesser than other people. I know what it is like to be surprised when I see a person with a disability portrayed in popular media in a positive light because too often our portrayal is unrealistic or completely absent. I know what it is like to be overlooked or ignored by people who are uncomfortable with disability and therefore me. I know what it is like to have to teach courses that teach people that our lives matter and that we should be treated with respect. I know what it is like to advocate for our voice to be added to policies, government, committees and other groups that naturally let in people without disabilities. I know what it is like to have to fight for the right for people with disabilities to work, to go to school, to not be segregated, to not be institutionalized, and to not be treated as lesser than other groups. I know what it is like to have to put up with ignorant comments and being treated differently and having different expectations that affect my ability to live my life, that affect my self-esteem and that have me constantly advocating to educate and enlighten people who don’t have disabilities. I know what is like to be told I am too sensitive about words, that is was just a joke, that I should lighten up. I also know what it is like to have a history of people who came before me who were abused, who fought to be heard, who lost their lives speaking out and who fought for the right to be part of the community, not hidden or shuttered away. I know what it is like to want to honour those people who fought against oppression by continuing that fight while at the same time not wanting to have to still fight that fight, not wanting to still have to tell people that people with disabilities aren’t lesser than, that we deserve respect, that we live full lives and that we are productive members of our community. I will continue the fight though because I don’t feel I have a choice, society hasn’t given me the option to move to the sidelines yet because so much work still has to be done. I am tired of having to repeat what generations of me before me have repeated, that we deserve equal access, that we deserve to live in our community, that we deserve to be independent, that we deserve to be seen, that we deserve to be heard and that we deserve to see ourselves reflected more realistically (or at all) in popular media. I shouldn’t have to still be telling groups that strive for diversity but leave out people with disabilities that we deserve to be at the table, but I do – and I will until society finally realizes that instinctually.

 

What I don’t know what it’s like is to fear for my life because my skin is different from others. I don’t know what it is like to wonder if a loved one will make it home from a trip to a store because they are wearing a hoodie or were rude to the wrong person or were stopped for a minor traffic infraction. I don’t know what it is like to live with the history of brutal oppression that is slavery. I don’t know what it is like to feel pride in seeing Black Lives Matter then disappointment and anger when someone changes it to All Lives Matter. I don’t know what it is like to have so much of a culture appreciated in arts and popular media but to have individuals and communities treated as lesser than. I don’t know what it is like to see a powerfully eloquent speech by a member of my community (Jesse Williams) that acknowledges the daily and systematic struggles we face then see that people have created a petition to have him fired from his job because they were uncomfortable with him holding a mirror up to society. I don’t know what it is like to see a video of a person hired to protect and serve shoot or choke a person of my colour and wonder how many days will pass before the next video, the next death.

 

There is a lot I don’t know but because of my own experience as a minority I have great empathy for those in the black community and I will do my best to reflect that empathy by learning and listening and supporting with not just words but actions. And I will start by sharing my belief that saying All Lives Matter is disrespectful and ignorant to the issue at hand. We shouldn’t have to say Black Lives Matter, we as a society should know this and reflect it, but we don’t and so we have to hear this message until it sinks in. If you don’t see yourself reflected in the hashtag, it doesn’t mean you don’t matter, it means that you are fortunate enough to not need a hashtag, to not need to educate others about how your life is worthwhile. And you can choose to replace “All” for “Black” and prove that our society has a long way to go or you can reflect, listen, read, learn and then work to help right society so that one day no hashtag is needed at all.

 

And finally, I know that ally is a word all too often used to soothe people, to make them feel like they are not part of the problem, but often the word ally is used without any weight behind it. To be an ally you must speak up, you must educate yourself, you must look at your life and your privilege and see what you can do to help change the situation. It is not enough to sit to the side and use a term for yourself that claims support, you must move into the fray and actually support with words, deeds and action. We, as a society, have a long way to go on multiple fronts, and we won’t get there until people individually look at their lives, their workplaces, their communities, their words, their attitudes, their privilege and see how they can make concrete changes for the better.