Tags
Acceptance, Access, Achievement, Awareness, Blind, Choice, Disability, Diversity, Equal Opportunities, Guide Dog, Hidden Disability, Life lessons, Life Purpose, Mobility, Sight Loss, Vision Impairment
Mention the word disability to ten different people, and they will all have different opinions on what that means to them and those around them. Some will identify with the word, some will not, some will have ideas about what disability means to them that you had never considered.
Going on one definition of disability , it suggests that disability is “having a physical or mental impairment. The impairement has a substantial and long -term adverse effect on their ability to carry out normal day -to -day activites”. During my time working with children and families over the last 28 years , I have heard people describe minor health inconveniences as disabilities and often wondered where their own definition came from. Others who have had significant adverse health issues that impact every waking moment of their lives, reject the disabled label with passion. The complexity of such a topic is guaranteed to bring up strong opinions either side of the disability line.
The reason for writing this, is as a reflection from a conversation I had with someone who asked if I considered being blind an “actual disability.”.What was interesting was that this comment came from a retired optician, which to me seemed quite comical. Clearly an optician who had used her “good enough” sight during her years of practice to assess patients with sight loss did not not really understand what it would be like to have limited or no sight as a constant companion. We had a really interesting chat about perception of impact on life of disability and how that differed greatly among individuals. She told me a story about a lady in her 70’s who had failing sight who could no longer shop alone due to not being able to see prices, labels etc and needing to rely on others to do her shopping. The retired optician told me that it was stories like that, that got her emotional in her old job yet she saw me in a different light.
When we chatted about me having sight loss from birth, yet still going through the educational system with no help and still achieving Masters degree level qualifications after finding alternative ways of doing things, she couldn’t work out how that was possible. When she heard that I was working a full time and part time job, volunteering, had written a book, look after my grandchildren and still live an independent life whilst being registered Severly Sight Impaired (the old blind register) she asked if I thought of myself as actually disabled? The answer is far from straight forward.
I hate to admit it, but there is quite a lot of things I cannot do in life. I cannot see some cars, let alone drive. I probably wouldn’t be called upon to help recognize a person in a line-up as I can’t see a person. Becoming a tour guide may not be my strongest career potential either , as I cannot see my surroundings. What I can do however, is do things my way. When I think of words to describe myself, disabled is not really a word which jumps out at me to be chosen, but in other people eyes , I suppose I am. Being born with Marfan Syndrome has brought about far more disabling complications than being blind has. I have had numerous injuries and reconstructive and other surgeries from life with a connective tissue disorder, yet Marfan Syndrome itself is not a stand alone disability, yet being blind (which is omnipresent but not always an issue) is classed as a disability.
I often forget that I cannot see as I have no alternative frame of reference. Seeing some blurs and blobs from birth is normal to me. Using sound, methods of elimination, touch and intuition gives me all I need to know about the world. To me, it seems weird that people use their eyes alone to short cut their way to interpreting the world we co-exist in. So when I am asked if I have a disability, the rebel in me sometimes wants to resist ticking the box to a label that I don’t always feel I fit in. Other times, I want to proudly wave the flag that disabled people are often the most fiercely amazing people that you will ever meet.
Measuring your disabilities or abilities against another person’s definition, is not always simple. Sometimes you fit, other times you don’t. What matters to me is what you do with the identification of being disabled. Personally, I love that it keeps me motivated to find creative ways to meet everyday challenges, and I never have the chance to get bored. Being born with sight loss into the sighted world, which is not the most welcoming or accommodating, may not be ideal, but it neither has to be impossible.