Article
When it comes to disability representation, it seems like things are improving. These days, we might actually see disabled people on our screens, as actors, as journalists, as models, as advocates, and as leaders. Things have certainly come a long way from when disabled people weren’t even allowed to be seen in public. But despite the increase in some representation, it’s clear we have a problem when it comes to representing the diversity within the disabled community.
I mean, take a look at the disabled people who we often see in mainstream media
The vast majority of the time, they are white, skinny, pretty, heteronormative, and largely from well-off and connected backgrounds. Now, that’s not to say their voices and their work doesn’t matter: it absolutely does, and people using their privilege to change the world is a fantastic thing. But I can’t help but think of all the people—and all the intersectionality—we’re largely missing out on. And these missing perspectives are vital for genuine change.
Why do we need to make sure we’re hearing from diverse disabled people?
Our disabled experiences can be vastly different. And while there isn’t a disability hierarchy, there is a privilege hierarchy. It’s a lot easier to be an advocate and get into mainstream media or leadership positions when you come from a rich family—or a family who knows the right people to get you the right opportunities. It’s also a lot easier to focus on your work and creative passions when you don’t have to worry about money.
As someone that grew up in a single-parent family, largely living below the poverty line for most of my life, I can’t imagine what it must be like to not have to worry about finances. I have various mental and physical disabilities, including chronic illness that causes extreme chronic fatigue, pain and brain fog.
It’s pretty debilitating, and has meant I’m only generally able to work a few hours a week—which is obviously challenging when you’re in a cost-of-living crisis. Many people are in a similar boat. We have to pick the work that will pay us and allow us to live, rather than what might have more of an impact for the community.
This means that our advocacy and creative projects often have to take a backseat—and I feel like it’s often these passion projects that can make a difference: whether it’s creating change, or raising awareness. But having the time, support, and capacity to do these projects is certainly a privilege. And because many of us lack this, our perspectives aren’t seen as much. Especially those of us with energy impairments, who are struggling to live, let alone have opportunities to advocate for our communities.
But financial privilege is just one kind of privilege. And we need to make sure diverse, intersectional perspectives are represented.
How often do you see a transgender or non-binary disabled person of colour speaking for the community on TV or in media?
Not very often. And if they are represented, it might just be one token person—and that’s seen as enough. But it’s not.
When it comes to media representation, less than 1% of all media features someone with a disability—despite the fact that disabled people represent 20% of the population. And if just disability representation is already a major issue, just imagine how much more challenging it is for people with multiple marginalised identities.
Intersectionality and diversity are more than just buzz words. We need LGBTIQIA+ representation. We need First Nations representation. We need people from culturally and racially marginalised backgrounds. We need plus-size people, people with facial differences, limb differences, feeding tubes, and all kinds of mobility aids, disabilities, and intersections. The disabled community is so diverse—and diversity can be so powerful, in so many ways.
But we can’t share that power if we don’t have the opportunities to do so.
It can’t just be the most palatable and privileged among our community who gets the opportunities
I know there are advocates and leaders who use their privilege for good, like finding or creating opportunities for people with extra layers of marginalisation. I certainly try my best to with the privileges I do have. But I feel like that isn’t the norm. Many won’t even recognise their privileges, let alone advocate for those without. Sometimes, it’s about knowing when to stand down, and let someone else speak.
Because we all deserve a seat at the table—not just those of us who are the most palatable and privileged.