Daily Archives: 29 March, 2010

Stigma Kills: A Concrete Example

Often when bloggers or activists push back against ableist language and stereotypes in the media, especially pop culture, someone will respond with an argument that there are more important disability issues to address and that the topic at hand is mostly irrelevant to disability rights as a whole. This has happened with each of the posts in the Ableist Word Profile series, it’s happened with discussion about ableist tropes in pop culture, it’s happened when critiquing the vast overrepresentation of criminal behavior in news coverage of people with mental illness.

I believe these things matter very much. Perhaps not individually – if I slip and use the word “lame” pejoratively, it does not automatically cause a person with a disability to die instantly. But each individual instance adds up to become a trend, to become a larger understanding and expectation of how things are. And if those understandings and expectations aren’t accurate, it can have dramatically horrific results.

This is because a lot of our ongoing decisionmaking is done automatically, unconsciously. This is because we are constantly presented with such a vast amount of information that if we stopped to consciously evaluate everything, we’d never be able to do anything at all. When I see an object with keys labeled with letters and laid out in the QWERTY design, I recognize it as a keyboard an assume I use it to manually input written data into a computer or typewriter or phone or other device. This saves me the trouble of figuring out each and every time what this object is, what it is for, how I am supposed to interact with it, and what end result I can expect. I do this instantly, even though it is immensely complicated – it has been extraordinarily difficult to program a computer to identify, say, a keyboard from a photo or video, regardless of lighting, angle, and lots of other variables that the brain can process almost instantly.

There are similar examples for evaluating other sensory input. When I touch something, I know instantly and without consciously considering it whether the object is solid or liquid, dry or wet. I have no idea how I make that evaluation and instructing someone else on making that judgment would be immensely difficult for me – but when my foot touches a wet patch of carpet en route to the bathroom in the middle of the night, I pull my foot back lightning fast to avoid what is surely cat puke. If I feel myself losing balance, I put out a hand to catch myself without consciously deciding to, because my classification of my sensations as “losing balance” was done entirely unconsciously.

How does stigma fit into this? Well, a stereotype is an unconscious cognitive shortcut – instead of examining an individual person or situation, we apply a stereotype to make assumptions. While a stereotype is usually seen as a negative thing, they serve an important purpose by allowing us to make educated guesses. For example, when I go into a fast food restaurant, I know to go to the counter and give my order to someone behind the counter, usually wearing a uniform. While this has held true at the places I’ve visited in the past, if I go to an new fast food restaurant that I haven’t visited before, I will assume that I use the same procedure. That’s a useful assumption that saves me the time and energy of approaching each situation as brand new and unrelated.

There are times when stereotypes can be harmful and damaging, as we well know. The stigma against PWDs is an assumption applied to all PWDs simply because they are PWDs, assuming they have a set of presumed characteristics, motivations, and beliefs. It is a stereotype composed of all the understandings and expectations of PWDs conveyed by all the little things – the word choices of the people you talk to, that one character in that on tv show, that story you saw on the news last night. And although the specifics fade away, most people are left with vague, unconscious associations. Again, some of these associations are essentially value-neutral, as how I generally associate red with “stop” and green with “go” from traffic lights and signs. But people can also have unconscious associations around more complex and problematic issues, like race, gender, and disability status.

Social psychologists from Harvard developed a computer-based test to measure the existence of implicit associations and stereotypes – the Implicit Association Test (IAT). The IAT asks users to rapidly categorize words to the left or right of the screen. From the IAT FAQ:

The IAT asks you to pair two concepts (e.g., young and good, or elderly and good). The more closely associated the two concepts are, the easier it is to respond to them as a single unit. So, if young and good are strongly associated, it should be easier to respond faster when you are asked to give the same response (i.e. the ‘E’ or ‘I’ key [to indicate left or right]) to these two. If elderly and good are not so strongly associated, it should be harder to respond fast when they are paired. This gives a measure of how strongly associated the two types of concepts are. The more associated, the more rapidly you should be able to respond. The IAT is one method for measuring implicit or automatic attitudes and is featured on this website. There are other methods, using different procedures, that have been investigated in laboratory studies.

I’ve taken a number of IATs before (because I’m dorky about cognitive science and this kind of stuff) and believe that they have correctly identified in me some negative unconscious associations. For example, I unconsciously associated women with home and family and men with business. Consciously, I strongly disagree with that association! So when I do consciously consider my assumptions about those associations, I override and reject my unconscious associations.

When researching this post, I took the IAT that measures unconscious associations around disability. (I can’t link directly to that test, but it can be found in the IAT demonstrations available here.) Taking the test, I found that I have a slight automatic preference for abled people over PWDs. This doesn’t mean that when I act, speak, or even think about these issues I exhibit that preference. It doesn’t mean that I “really” prefer TABs to PWDs. It means that I have been sufficiently inundated by messages that associate TABs with “good” and PWDs with “bad” that I have a slight unconscious tendency to apply that association, a tendency almost instantaneously overruled by my conscious thought. So it is an association that exists only for the tiniest of moments until it is extinguished by cognition.

How can those tiny moments, almost too small to measure, even matter? Well, as Chally recently posted about, a Los Angeles police officer shot and killed an unarmed man with an unspecific cognitive disability autism [1. ETA since his family disclosed that he had autism in numerous public interviews.]. The officer fired as the man reached towards his waistband after failing to respond to verbal commands from the police. From the LA Times article linked in the post:

[LAPD Officers] Corrales and Diego believed “he [the PWD] was arming himself” and fired, Assistant Chief Earl Paysinger said at an afternoon news conference.

The officers made decisions in a fraction of a second,” he added.

In a fraction of a second.

Just long enough for the unconscious association to spark but not long enough for conscious thought to override it.

Just long enough for stigma to kill.

Recommended Reading for March 29, 2010

Anna’s note: Hi! I’m going to be included a link or two a day for the next couple of weeks that isn’t explicitly related to disability. I will also be increasing the number of links I put up a day – you may have noted that I lean towards 5 as my number – so that there are always at least five links related to disability. I feel that the other links that I will be including are in line with FWD’s mission to approach feminism from an intersectional perspective.

Everything I Needed to Know About Access Activism I Learned in Kindergarten

Or another reason might be that I’m tired of the responsibility for access issue being disproportionately allocated to the very people who are up against the access issues every. Single. Day. I would humbly suggest that every member of every University decision-making body has their own brain and can decide for themselves if they want to care about access, and if they want to become informed about the issues, and if they want to invest their time and energy into pushing those issues at decision-making levels. If non-disabled people on committees never think to ask themselves about disabled access, or never think to speak up about it, why should I think that my voice will be listened to? And what does that say for their commitment to access that they can’t be bothered to do the work themselves and instead decide to offload it onto precisely the people who do not have energy for it because we are too busy navigating an inaccessible campus?

Getting a token disabled person on a committee to keep “holding you to account” about disability or sexism issues is a good way of making it look like you care about equal opporunities when you just don’t care enough. Because if you really cared, you wouldn’t be relying on a disabled person or a woman to be doing your homework for you. You’d be doing your own homework, and holding yourself to account.

More on Classism, and some thoughts on Ableism, within Vegan Movements

Over the past year I’ve been thinking more about the privileging of the able-bodied (& neurotypical) in activist movements — including, but by no means limited to, veganism & animal rights. Often certain types of activism are held up as the pinnacles of commitment & getting shit done: direct action; mammoth demonstrations on the street; confrontational protests; etc. These are more risky for people who do not fit within a certain paradigm. For example, the risk of being dragged away by the cops at a protest may look very different to you if you are: POC; gender nonconforming; undocumented; a person with childcare commitments; female; disabled — not that any of these categories are mutually exclusive, of course!

Rethinking Work: Cooking as labour

Out of the kitchen and into the workforce arguments always had a class (and race) division to them: many women had already been working and didn’t find it particularly liberating. Many of them, often women of color, worked as domestic laborers as well—getting paid, if not very well, to do the same work they then did for free at their own home. Well-off women were already recognizing in their own way that cooking was work, and we still recognize this when we watch cooking shows on TV or go to restaurants, fancy or otherwise.

Now back-in-the-kitchen arguments have their own class dimension. They imply the time to spend in the kitchen as well as the money to buy fancy ingredients. Ethically produced local food tends to be more expensive partly because the people who produce it are being paid decently, so despite the lack of middlemen we pay much more for organic produce from the farm around the corner.

Dear Moby And Miley: Please Shut Up About The Disorders You Don’t Actually Have [I recommend missing the comments]

Your brain is not Sephora. You don’t get to walk in and pick a bunch of “trendy” shit to throw on in order to make yourself look better. And you don’t get to accessorize with the “hip” disorder of the day just to make yourself seem “weird” and “fascinating” to your stupid friends. That’s not how it works. And it’s not fair to those of us who actually do have to deal with such diagnoses, and all the work, medication, and often times difficulties that come along with them, to act as if it’s adorable or hilarious that you’ve declared yourself to have something that you don’t. You’re not helping the cause any, and you certainly aren’t helping to research or de-stigmatize such things by wearing them as some kooky hipster badge of honor. Nor are you helping the public’s perception of bipolar disorder by comparing it to your shitty movie options.

On my usage of “crazy”

When I first started working it out of my vocabulary, my criteria would be to stop and think (1)if I literally meant something was mentally ill or not (easily done by replacing the offending word with “mentally ill” and seeing if the sentence still worked), and (2)if yes, then was I putting that thing into a negative light by describing it that way. For example, if I’m reading a piece of literature and it’s really confusing to me and I throw the book down and exclaim “that’s just crazy!” – am I trying to say that I think the book or the author is mentally ill? And if I *am* trying to say that, am I saying it because I’m annoyed with it, and calling it crazy or mentally ill is a good way to discount it and feel better about not wanting to interact with it anymore?

If that’s the case, if I’m trying to imply that something is mentally ill because that makes it easier for me to throw it away, what am I saying about mental illness and those of us (myself included) who are mentally ill? Wouldn’t it be better for me to throw the book down and say “I really hate this author’s narrative style!” or “This is pretentious bullshit!” or “I can’t figure out the point of this and it makes me mad!”

I am tired of disability stereotypes and tropes

Do you know what I’d love to see? More shows and movies and books with character who just happens to be disabled. That their disability NOT be the focus of the episode but rather just happens to be included within the episode. No more super special episodes/movies/books about a super special person – but just an episode/movie/book with an interesting character who just happens to have a disability. One of the main characters on ER, Dr. Kerry Weaver, who was introduced as accomplished doctor – and that’s what the audiences saw the most because her disability was hardly ever mentioned. I’m sure there are other characters like her around – but I don’t know enough about them to counteract all the other characters I know of. The character portrayals that are bothersome and sometimes hurtful.