Disability Isn’t A Bad Word

Hundreds of people within the stuttering community will ask each other, “Do you consider stuttering a disability?” This question is just reeked in ableism. Please stop asking it.

The reason this question is a not a useful one is because they’re not asking if you’d classify this as a disability for protection under employment discrimination law. They’re asking you something else, and it’s not clear what they mean. People then begin answering the question of if they ‘feel’ like they are disabled, and are faced with their own internalized ableism when they begin to answer…

You get a lot of responses like these:

“I don’t consider my stutter a disability because I can still communicate.”

To stutter does not mean you can’t communicate. It means that your natural speaking voice stutters. What you can’t do? isn’t a good question to ask. In the same way that all deaf people have various levels of what they “can” or “can’t” do based on a few factors regarding their disability, not all stutterers “can” or “can’t” do the same things.

“I don’t consider myself disabled.”

Why? What is this rooted in? Because the definition of disabled is “(of a person) having a physical or mental condition that limits movements, senses, or activities.”  

“Stuttering doesn’t limit me.”

Really? Your stutter has never once limited your voice in any way? How do you know you stutter then, if it has never impacted your voice?

“Just because it limits my voice doesn’t mean it has to limit me.”

Sure, but that only works if we have accessibility. Consider this: you get into a car accident and your arms are pinned to your sides. You call out for siri to call 911. Except – Siri keeps automatically turning off when you block. Or doesn’t understand your stuttering.

That makes voice-activated devices inherently inaccessible to people who stutter. This means that you are, by definition, limited.

Our world is built for abled people, but we deserve accessibility.

“Most of my limitations were in my head”

Part of the disability experience includes fighting against the narrative of what it means to be disabled. So even if what ‘stopped’ you was an internalized belief – that is still part of the disabled experience.

“I’m not a victim.”

All right. Being disabled doesn’t make you one.

“I can hide it.”

Google – what are invisible disabilities. Hiding your disability doesn’t make it not one.

Realizing that you are disabled can encourage and empower you to fight for equal rights and for accommodations.

When people ask this question, there’s a more accurate question underneath the surface. This may be what they mean instead, and should be the question(s) they ask:

1) “How does stuttering, or the fear of stuttering, limit you from doing what you want to do?”

2) “How much of what has held you back is due to the physical stutter itself, and how much is due to other people’s reactions or possible reactions?”

3) “When have you surprised yourself by doing something you previously thought could not be done because of your stutter?”

4) “What type of accommodations might someone require for stuttering?”

I’m not going to try to strong arm someone who stutters into admitting they are disabled – that’s their journey.

When this question does come up, I don’t fight people who stutter on this. It takes awhile to unlearn the ableism of being disabled. I’m not going to try to strong arm someone into admitting they are disabled – that’s their journey.

I used to ask this question. I didn’t enjoy thinking about the ways in which the accommodations in society were lacking.

Perhaps ironically, realizing that you are disabled can encourage and empower you to fight for equal rights and for accommodations.

It is OK to stutter, and it is OK to be disabled.