Imagine this:
You are Hispanic, black or Asian. You have a heart condition and need a heart transplant to live. You visit a Major Hospital and meet with A Major Cardiologist, and then you receive a letter in which the doctor has recommended against the transplant "given your ethnicity, the complexity of the process, multiple procedures and unpredictable effect of steroids on behavior."
Now imagine this:
You are watching the recent Comedy Central roast of Roseanne Barr. Wayne Brady turns to fellow comedian Jeff Ross and jokes, "A lot of people hate you, especially because you remind us all of what a Jewish person will look like when he's 40!"
Mind-boggling, right? What hospital would blatantly deny a person because of their ethnicity? Which comedian would crack a joke like that about a Jewish person? Sure, plenty of comedians are equal-opportunity offensive (as Wayne Brady has been), but good ones wouldn't jest that an entire ethnic group is ugly because it's just not funny.
Now know this:
Paul Corby is a 23-year-old with a defective heart and high-functioning autism. He lives in Pottsville, Pennyslvania, and applied for a transplant at the Hospital of the University of Pennyslvania, as reported in The Philadelphia Inquirer. Last June his mother, Karen, received a letter from a cardiologist there who recommended against Corby getting a heart transplant "given his psychiatric issues, autism, the complexity of the process, multiple procedures and unpredictable effect of steroids on behavior."
At the Comedy Central roast of Roseanne Barr, as seen here, Wayne Brady turned to comedian Jeff Ross and remarked, "A lot of people hate you, especially Sarah Palin because you remind her of what Trig is going to look like when he's 40!" Some audience members boo-ed.
That cardiologist saw nothing wrong with denying a person a chance to live, in part because of his special needs. That comedian thought it was amusing to slam an entire population of people, those who have Down syndrome. Both thought it was OK to discriminate against, or demean, people with disabilities—even though they most likely wouldn't have gone to the extremes they did based on a person's race or ethnicity.
Once again, I'm reeling from prejudice against people with special needs, and dreading what the future might hold for Max.
I'm not downplaying racial prejudice in America: Intolerance and hate still exist in too many people's hearts and heads (hel-lo, Ku Klux Klan rallies). What racism and disablism have in common is that both are about closed-mindedness and ignorance, and both are hurtful and painful. One major difference: Americans are largely aware of racial intolerance. It's an issue good people form groups about; our town has a community coalition on race. We teach our kids to be open-minded and accepting from a young age (well, hopefully we do). Even when people have racial prejudice, they may well know not to let it show. Not p.c.
The same can't be said of disabilities in public discourse and perception. Ableism, disablism, whatever you call it: It's out there, and it's blatant. People freely use the word "retard" as a joke or punchline, including otherwise "sophisticated" people I know (and some fight you on it when you explain why it's demeaning). In the year 2012, experts still consider disability one acceptable reason to deny a transplant (as also happened when a CHOP doctor advised against giving little Amelia Rivera a kidney transplant because she had "mental retardation," although the hospital eventually agreed to it). Last month, a group of Chicago suburbanites opposed to a group home for eight women with intellectual disability stood in the village chamber council and called the proposed tenants "retarded." They could harm kids in the neighborhood, some mused.
What I'm saying is: There is good awareness out there about respecting people of different races and ethnicities—and too little awareness about respecting people with different abilities. "Discrimination against disabled people is the last remaining equality issue to be addressed," noted commentary on a series of British ads (including the above) geared toward disability awareness. It's true here, too.
In July, Iowa Senator Tom Harkin, chair of the Health, Employment, Labor and Pensions committee, issued Unfinished Business, a report that noted disability employment has lagged over the last two decades, and that people with disabilities participate in the workforce at a rate that's half of any other group's, including women, African Americans and Latinos.
Harkin's call for the government and business to make hiring of disabled people a priority is heartening. Still: How are we going to convince business people that, yes, people with disabilities can be just as abled as anyone else in many ways—and just as valuable as anybody else? How are we going to convince doctors, those who laughingly call other people retarded, the strangers who stare at my son as if he were a freak of nature? How are we going to change perceptions of those with disabilities?
I do my best to help others quit focusing on Max's cerebral palsy and see the amazing kid he is. When friends use the word "retard," I tell them it's offensive. But that's me, Max's mom. The truth is, unless you have a child or adult with special needs in your family or circle of friends, or you work in the field of disability, or you read a shocking story in the news, this is most likely not stuff you ordinarily think or talk about with your kids, partner, friends, whoever.
Without that awareness, and more open and prolific discussion about treating people with special needs as equal members of society, kids and adults with special needs will continue to be punchlines and pitiful creatures. Doctors will continue to think that individuals with disabilities don't deserve transplants. People will continue to innately believe that those with disabilities are less worthy human beings.
Please, won't you keep the discussion going?
Update: Wayne Brady issued the following apology on his Facebook page on 8/17; I think it's a good one.
This letter has taken me a few days to compose because of the conflicting emotions that I'e experienced since the day of the Roast and its subsequent airing. The environment of the Roast is a comedic (hopefully), tasteless (mostly always) affair that encourages everyone to out-filth eah other. Not normally what I'm known for, right/ But when I was invited I jumped at the chance to play outside e of my perceived "norm" and have fun. The Jeff joke was written for me and at the end of the day I take full responsibility for saying it. It wasn't meant as a slam to Trig and at the time I didn't see it that way.
I could defend it as a performer, but I would rather apologize from the bottom of my heart as a father. I understand how a parent, who loves their child, who tries to nurture and shield them when they cannot defend themselves, would take offense.. I have many times experienced this feeling. I've had awful things said about my daughter.. Violent and most times racial stabs. Being in the spotlight I have built a thick skin to these sorts of things. My daughter ( who's now old enough to understand ) is another story. That being said I write this letter with sensitivity and a strong stance of responsibility for my actions.
I thank everyone who's expressed their opinion for reminding me that my voice is heard... It's easy to forget sometimes in front of cameras and lights.
To the Palins, please know that no malice or harm was meant. To the other families who were touched negatively, I hope you'll be able to accept this apology as well.
I've always said that people in the public eye should be held responsible for what you say and I'm no hypocrite. Thanks for reading and letting me express my side.
Take care all,
Wayne
