We all know test cases that suggest some kind of limit or standard for what's OK to say. "Retarded" and "crippled" feel uncomfortable (even though I'm fine appropriating the first colloquially to disparage something unrelated to disability, like a terrible policy). But I think often what makes language "ableist" is nothing related to the…
We all know test cases that suggest some kind of limit or standard for what's OK to say. "Retarded" and "crippled" feel uncomfortable (even though I'm fine appropriating the first colloquially to disparage something unrelated to disability, like a terrible policy). But I think often what makes language "ableist" is nothing related to the disability or offending word at all, but rather the failure to consider that the language you use *might* bother them used that particular way. That is, a process question of relational sensitivity rather than a content issue.
I don't think the point of calling out ableist language is (or should be) either to defend the normalcy of disability or deny that they are undesirable. For me the point is to keep people epistemically humble, by not letting them blithely assume that just because the word seems fine to them it's fine to everyone. But this is often taken to excess, and policing of language doesn't help anybody. Especially because I think true ableism tends to be more about the act and the attitude than the word, with the word at worst being a reflection of the act.
We all know test cases that suggest some kind of limit or standard for what's OK to say. "Retarded" and "crippled" feel uncomfortable (even though I'm fine appropriating the first colloquially to disparage something unrelated to disability, like a terrible policy). But I think often what makes language "ableist" is nothing related to the disability or offending word at all, but rather the failure to consider that the language you use *might* bother them used that particular way. That is, a process question of relational sensitivity rather than a content issue.
I don't think the point of calling out ableist language is (or should be) either to defend the normalcy of disability or deny that they are undesirable. For me the point is to keep people epistemically humble, by not letting them blithely assume that just because the word seems fine to them it's fine to everyone. But this is often taken to excess, and policing of language doesn't help anybody. Especially because I think true ableism tends to be more about the act and the attitude than the word, with the word at worst being a reflection of the act.