ableism as a social justice issue

During my time in college, I have involved myself with opportunities to engage in service learning in a variety of social justice topics. I recently graduated from a Jesuit institution where our school culture is built on the pillars of Jesuit values such as service, community and justice. Because of this, my school offers retreats, internships, clubs, and other experiences that focus in educating on and engaging in these topics and how they affect our local communities and beyond. During the summer before my senior year, I was given the opportunity to be a part of a social justice internship at my university, where we had a mission to further explore these topics, learn about how they affect Cincinnati, and work with agencies whose work to combat these injustices.

When given the offer to be a part of this internship, I immediately started to think about what this job would look like for me with my health condition. Through working with my supervisors I was able to secure a position with an agency that was accessible and was partnered with another member of my cohort who I was able to carpool to work with. I was excited to be a part of a program that met my needs and allowed me to explore issues I was passionate about.

I started to realize something was wrong on the third day of training. We were sitting in a classroom going through a presentation when I started to experience a feeling that I am way too familiar with. I sat still as my heart rate dropped, my vision went blurry, my legs went numb and I began to lightly shake. I knew at that moment that I was going to have an episode of Vasovagal Syncope. I step out of the room to find a place to lie down so I wouldn't hurt myself. My friend saw what was going on and stepped out to help me. After 15 minutes or so the director of the program pulled my friend back into the room saying that she can’t miss the “important material”. To say I was crushed would be an understatement. After having just received a diagnosis a few months prior I was finally finding comfort and pride in my identity. Now, I felt like a burden and a distraction.

I wish I could say that this was the last time this happened. I wish I could say I didn't have to step out multiple times during meetings to have seizures in the middle of the hallway with no one there to help me. I wish I could say my supervisor allowed me to go home when I wasn’t feeling well. I wish that after I spoke with my supervisor multiple times about my concerns that something would have changed. I wish. I wish. I wish.

When I finished the program, my supervisor got us together and said “you should be proud of yourself for fighting the good fight.” The truth is, I wasn’t proud. I was embarrassed, exhausted and apathetic. I was not given the resources to fill up my own cup, so I gave from an empty one– and I gave and I gave and I gave. A month later I was explaining the experience to a friend who said “it’s kind of odd don’t you think, that you would experience so much ableism from the director of a social justice program.” At first I thought,”that must be an exaggeration– I didn’t experience ableism”, so I did some research. Ableism is defined as “the discrimination of and social prejudice against people with disabilities based on the belief that typical abilities are superior (accessliving.org).” Ableism is “further compounded by factors like gender, queerness, race, class, age and colonialism, among other oppressions. It must be part of any conversation regarding intersectionality – and yet, even in social justice spaces, it often isn’t (thebodyisnotanapology.com).” So why is it that ableism isn’t always brought into social justice spaces?

In my case it could have been a number of factors. It could be that I have an invisible disability, so I don’t look disabled. Even though this shouldn’t invalidate my experiences, it does. People often have a preconceived notion of what a disability looks like, and a lean, 22-year-old girl who doesn’t have to use a mobility aid or visible medical device is not what they picture. It could have been a lack of understanding. Dysautonomia, although it is common, is not a condition that most people I have met are familiar with. I did, however, provide my accommodations acquired by the school and had a conversation with my supervisor prior to joining the program. Whatever the reasons were, the fact of the matter is this – I was denied my school-acquired accommodations in a space that was supposed to embrace equity and inclusion.

It wasn’t until I completed the program that I was able to process what had happened. The ableism I experienced was internalized to the point where I almost sympathized with my supervisor. I began to internalize the feelings of being incapable, irresponsible and unreliable. Since then, I have distanced myself from any other service-oriented space that does not value disability rights at the same level as other injustices. I am currently serving as a member of the Jesuit Volunteer Corps, an organization that has bent over backwards to help support me and my medical needs in my year of service. I am applying for grad schools and looking towards a career in social work. I am acknowledging that my heart is leading me to serve, but in order to follow this, I need to let my body follow my heart at its own pace – and that does not make me any less capable.

With love,

Sabrina