There are phrases that those of us who have a disability hear all the time without realizing how unusual, indeed rude, they would be if they were directed at others.
I am not referring to the daily questions about where our disability comes from, if it was due to illness or an accident, if we can’t see anything at all if we dream at night, or how to know if someone is beautiful without seeing it.
There are countless curious questions that, depending on how and when they are asked and who answers them, can be understood as natural and healthy or invasive and irritating. Unfortunately, I don’t have a recipe or instruction manual on how to talk to a blind person.
A few days ago, I found out that many more meanings are hidden in a speech as frequent as the previous ones and whose purpose is to demonstrate empathy, willingness to learn from others, and build bonds.
How often, dear reader, has someone told you that they would try to learn how to deal with you?
The diaries about where our disability comes from, if it was due to illness or accident, if we can’t see anything at all, if we dream at night, or how to know if someone is beautiful without seeing it.
There are countless curious questions that, depending on how and when they are asked and who answers them, can be understood as natural and healthy or invasive and irritating. Unfortunately, I don’t have a recipe or instruction manual on how to talk to a blind person.
A few days ago, I found out that many more meanings are hidden in a speech as frequent as the previous ones and whose purpose is to demonstrate empathy, willingness to learn from others, and build bonds.
How often, dear reader, has someone told you that they would try to learn how to deal with you?
If you have a disability, probably a hundred times. He heard things like that when he enrolled in a course, went through a job interview, went to a travel agency, and made an appointment on a dating app. That’s if you’re lucky, as there’s also a risk that they’ll say they don’t know how to act in the situation and close the door, suggesting you look for a people expert like you.
On the other hand, if you don’t live with a disability, I’d bet you’ve never heard anything like it. More than that, I would be very offended if anyone tried to show sympathy in this way, whether you are male or female, rich or poor, black or white, young or old. He will say everyone needs to accept me as I am, and knowing how to treat me as an equal is nothing more than anyone’s obligation.
Why do people with disabilities form a group that one can safely admit that one does not know how to deal with while the rest are understood as consumers, professionals, students, friends, and potential companions?
The exclusion that people with disabilities have always experienced in education, social life, and work has led us to a situation where we, and the best-intentioned people willing to start a relationship with us, do not even realize how symptomatic it is to accept that we are still so distant that, without an effort to learn from each other, our deficiencies will be an insurmountable wall for there to be any exchange between us.
There are specificities in the way we who have a disability communicate, learn, get around, have fun. Most people don’t know much about it and it really may be necessary to learn something in the first contact, that there be a warning that the right way to lead is by letting the blind person hold the elbow of the person who is showing the way. And we are always hoping to find people who are receptive to our way of being.
But why is living with someone with a disability often seen as a humanitarian gesture by some kind-hearted people and not something that should come naturally to everyone? I think that a world in which people knew and embraced these differences would be much better, if they understood and lived together naturally.
Instead, the blind person arriving in a new space is often the novelty that destabilizes. It’s the person that no one had prepared to receive at the party, for whom they go looking for a chair in the corner instead of inviting them to the dance floor. Until one day someone comes along who is willing to learn to deal with us, to teach the steps of dancing hand in hand, and we are immensely grateful for having remembered us for as long as a song lasts.
When the mood is better, I look at the question upside down. Once, a family member decided he would take on Cupid’s millennial job and find me a girlfriend. The first quality he listed about the imaginary suitor is that the girl should not be prejudiced. Excellent. So disability is a natural repellent for prejudiced people — a great privilege.
I wonder why people who don’t have a disability accept a relationship with someone intolerant, who can’t imagine living with someone different. Waking up in the morning next to someone with such a poor view of the world seems infinitely more complex than being with someone who cannot see.
Come to think of it, thousands of things can be harder to deal with than blindness. Imagine what it would be like to deal with someone dishonest. I would need a lot of meditation and empathy to adapt to that
How do you deal with people who think they are superior to others? How do you deal with who is an encyclopedia of truths learned on WhatsApp?
Some people are straightforward to deal with and talk non-stop. For me, it’s excellent; I much prefer to listen, which is a great challenge for the quieter ones.
How do we deal with the person who is always with feelings on the surface, walks down the street with the dog as if it were the most transcendental experience that one could have on a winter day, and does all the actions of someone who is at his back look mediocre? How do you deal with a person who has become disenchanted with life and wants to remain silent in their corner? Who can help me get along with highly educated people who are intimidating because of their intelligence?
This whole bunch also came without a recipe or instruction manual. It won’t be easy, but I promise to try hard to learn how to deal with all of you. Please be patient and let me know if I do something wrong. And I apologize in advance for my lack of experience.
Filipe Oliveira is a journalist and musician. He is slowly losing his sight.
Reproduced from Folha de S. Paulo, June, 27 2021
