“Piece by piece, people are picking me apart”: why attitudes to disabled people need to improve
Disabled campaigner Joshua Reeves BEM opens about his experiences of ableist comments from the general public.
I live in Cardiff, and I am a horror movie goer, gamer and heavy metal fan. I’m also a wheelchair user who has cerebral palsy and scoliosis (curvature of the spine)
People’s reactions make it tough to go out
Since the pandemic, life has become more challenging for many of us. But for me, going out in public has become more difficult than ever. Not only are there physical barriers to navigate, but I’m also forced to face something even more damaging — the way society reacts to me.
It's as if, piece by piece, people are picking me apart. My disability — my existence — seems to be under constant scrutiny.
It leaves me questioning whether people are genuinely afraid of disability or if something more sinister is at play here.
Confidence takes a hit
My confidence in society has taken a hit since 2020, and it has been increasingly difficult to maintain. Nearly every time I go out, especially at night, it seems someone has a hurtful comment lined up.
Insults: a routine occurrence
Some people call me "Stephen Hawking" and laugh at me, while others yell out the name of the disabled character "Timmy" from South Park. It's become a routine occurrence, as if they can’t see the person beyond the wheelchair. But one recent night was particularly tough.
On 5 October, I went out to Cardiff city centre for what I hoped would be a normal evening. Instead, I was subjected to yet another round of insults. On my way home, someone shouted: “I thought Stephen Hawking was dead.” By the time I heard a similar comment for the fifth or sixth time that night, it really started to sting.
Strange encounters: I will try to fix you
Not all unwanted encounters with people involve insults, but many do still show the need for a big change in attitudes. Disabled people certainly aren’t asking strangers to try to help fix them.
Recently, while I was enjoying a coffee on my lunch break, an American guy came up to me and asked if he could pray for me.
First, he said: "Can I speak to you?" and then "What's the problem?"
I told him: "There's no problem; I am who I am."
He clarified: "What I meant is your wheelchair."
I replied: "I've always been in a wheelchair, and that's just me."
He then asked: "Can I pray for you right now?"
I said: "No way. But you could do it in your private time. If I start walking, I'll give you my debit card!"
He said: "Okay. Have a good day." (Obviously, he couldn't see my heavy-metal inspired Ouija board shoes and demonic tattoos.)
Attitude shift needed
It seems I can’t even have a cup of coffee without somebody being troubled by my very existence and viewing me as a problem that needs to be fixed.
Usually, I try to brush off these remarks. Sometimes, I'll even give the finger to show them that I won’t let their words get to me. But this time, it hit harder.
All of these encounters lead me to wonder what drives people to say all these things. Is it ignorance? Sometimes. Is it malice? Sometimes. There could be a common thread, though. Even now, in 2024, is it perhaps a reflection of how uncomfortable some people are with disability and disabled people?
The truth is no one should have to feel dehumanised just because they use a wheelchair or their body doesn’t fit society’s narrow definition of “normal.”
I like talking to people. But the constant barrage of negative comments and stares wears me down. It chips away at my confidence, leaving me to wonder why – in a world that claims to be progressive – there’s still so much work to do. It’s exhausting constantly having to prove that I’m more than my disability.
Raising awareness, boosting understanding
I’m sharing my experience not to seek sympathy, but to raise awareness. Disabled people deserve to go out in public without being mocked or ridiculed by ableists. We deserve dignity and respect. We really shouldn’t have to put up with **** like this anywhere, especially in the 21st century.
If we can foster more understanding, maybe the next time someone sees a wheelchair user they will think twice before making hurtful comments. I hope so because I am not backing down now.
I will keep rolling forward, holding on to the hope that we can change the way the world views disabled people.
I believe that disabled people and non-disabled people can both help create change. If we feel safe doing so, we can all call out hurtful or harmful behaviour when we see it. This helps people to think, and to learn. And it means more disabled people will be free from incidents I’ve experienced recently. Instead, more disabled people will be able to go out and have fun, just like everyone else.