Disability, allies, and race

 For context: I am disabled. I am white. And I'd very much like non-white people to feel safe around me.

So, this blog is, for want of a better way of putting it: processing in progress. 

Recently I saw a number of posts about race allyship, including this one:. 

post from SM platform Spoutible, by Liz N: Dear white people. You are not an ally until a marginalised person tells you that you are. Until such time, stop making the claim.


The replies were a combination of agreement and 'but they mean well, so that's nice!'

And it got me thinking....

As a disabled person, people often offer me help that is unnecessary. Sometimes it's even literally unhelpful - like them holding a door open in such a way I literally can't wheel through it. And sometimes they give 'praise' that is actually kinda insulting (like for sitting drinking a hot chocolate....like...really?)

Meaning well, or intending to be helpful does not automatically mean that it actually is helpful nor does it automatically have a good effect.

I get that it hurts when efforts to help are rejected - but the fact is...they are rejected for good reason. And I would guess that offers of help aren't just about the practical 'thing' - but also about conveying 'hey, I'm here for you, I see you, I care about you'. So the 'no thank you' becomes even harder to hear. You did your best to make me feel comfortable, welcomed, supported - and I rejected it.

But here's the thing. I haven't rejected your support (even if that is what it felt like). I have given you information to enable you to give more appropriate support. Whether I feel safe and supported is not determined by the offer - it's determined by the response to my 'no'. 

The perfect response is 'Ok, let me know if you need anything' - with a friendly smile - and then they continue on with their day (e.g. doing their shopping, or reading something on their phone on the train). Because then I know I have been heard, and that the important factor in the interaction wasn't their emotions (that they felt they'd supported the poor disabled person) but that I could get the support I decided I needed.

Responses resembling the following will instantly have someone placed in the 'avoid - not supportive' category.

  • Ooh, people like you are always wanting to be super independent!
  • But I was only trying to help!
  • Don't be so rude!
  • Someone's got a chip on their shoulder!

(To anyone thinking 'oh, but it doesn't happen that often'...it does. So often that I have multiple pre-planned strategies for attempting to convey the 'no thanks' in a way that might be accepted, and a kind of internal priority list for when energy is low, to help me decide whether it's likely to be less energy to just accept the unwanted/unhelpful help. Any time I get a really good response, it's like a breath of fresh air.)

But it's not just 'I don't like the reaction to my no' - it goes much deeper. It's about whether I am physically and mentally safe. If my voice is not heard, then I am not safe. My needs will, quite simply, be overridden by the other person's 'need to feel supportive'. And that is scary. On a visceral level. Every instinct will tell me to GET AWAY.

And....I wonder if this same process/emotional reaction is what happens when it comes to race too - only there I'm on the other side. I'm the one wanting to show support, but being hurt when I feel my support has been rejected. 

If I do or say something by which I want to convey my support, and am told no. The important thing is not my intention. The important thing is my reaction. If I'm told I'm wrong - do I apologise, accept that what I've been told is genuine, and learn? Or do I say 'But I was only trying to help'?

In my disability experience, I choose who I feel safe near, and who I don't feel safe near. And it is never based on their 'intention'. It is my decision, based on their behaviours.

So when it comes to me wanting to be supportive of people from other races or cultures, I guess the same rules apply. I don't decide if I am their ally. They decide whether they feel safe around me. It is 100% their decision, and if they don't: I need to look at my behaviour.

Comments

  1. Thoughtful blog about expressing what we need as people with disabilities. Stickman Communications has come up with so many great ways and phrases to do this! As a Canadian reading your blog one word kept coming up: "Sorry"! LOL. "Sorry but I'm able to manage" "Sorry 'bout that" "It's ok. Sorry" Maybe we can Canadian-ize our Stickman cards by jotting in a few 🇨🇦 "Sorry's".

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  2. This is something that is so difficult for people to understand. I find I put myself down (telling people I am stubborn/pig-headed) so that they laugh and leave me alone. My husband is actually the worst one for doing this - he gets frustrated that I can't get through crowds easily and grabs my wheelchair from behind and shoves me into people, or off pavements, then gets upset when I ask him to just leave me alone. I now have a phobia of people being behind me because of how frequently people grab my wheelchair to "help" me without speaking first. It just doesn't feel safe. But then when I tell them I am fine, they think I am being ungrateful so I have to make excuses like "this is the only exercise I get". It is a relief to have someone else put it into words much better than I ever could, because I am always worried about offending people by refusing their help, so thank you for a thoughful and well-written post describing what many of us experience on a regular basis.

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