People-First Language

Caution! Watch your language. As observed in the story, language has power; intentionally or unintentionally, it can unite us or divide us. Thankfully, most of us have been exposed to a unifying communication art called "people first" language. It helps us do just as it says: put people first.

Through its practice, we learn to see all of a person's attributes, not just their disability. My friend Gale, for example, is not a "dyslexic." He is a charming guy, a talented carpenter, and a fantastic writer who happens to live with dyslexia. My friend Cory is not a "quad." She is a brilliant woman and a wonderful mother who speaks fluent French and lives with paralysis.

We also learn to avoid language that conveys inaccurate impressions. For example, we don't say, "My cousin Gary is in a wheelchair." Instead, we say, "My cousin Gary uses a wheelchair for mobility."

"I am not 'confined' to my wheelchair," said one accessibility blogger, "My chair is my freedom."

And, for goodness sake, let us not add suffering where there is none by affixing the piteous verb "suffers" before a disability. While disabilities are challenging, people-first language encourages us to recognize the person's daily victories over disability by saying "she lives with quadriplegia," not "she suffers from paralysis."

Pesky Pronouns & Prepositions

With an understanding of people-first language on board, we should have smooth sailing, right? Not necessarily so, sailor. We may believe in the values underpinning people-first language. However, our use of pronouns and prepositions may suggest otherwise; they are our tell. Our language reveals our self-identity as either a benevolent patron or an empowering partner; the former can be regarded as patronizing and the latter as empowering.

The senator's use of the word "you" in "you people" suggested a separation, wherein one group was superior (us) to the other (them). Likewise, it was regarded as patronizing. A more empowering statement would have been: "Our government must ensure that all citizens-- those of us who live with disabilities, those with children in strollers, and those who are older--have accessible transportation."

The senator's words also portrayed that those without disabilities are doing an act of kindness for people with disabilities. His words were patronizing. This attitude implies that people with disabilities cannot act for themselves, and others must act for them. On the contrary, those of us with disabilities can decide and do for ourselves, being leaders in our own lives. Toward that end, VR professionals work with people with disabilities as partners. That is empowerment personified.

Here are a few more examples:

A VR counselor is overheard saying to a client, "I'm not comfortable with that employment goal." Although the counselor professes to be a staunch advocate of disability rights, his language—particularly his pronouns—reveals that he hasn't fully embraced the concept of client-driven services. He has gone beyond guiding the client to deciding for the client.

A counselor responding to a client's request is overheard saying, "We (Voc Rehab) don't do that." Imagine yourself receiving that response. How does it feel? In this case, "we" suggests the counselor and the program are on one team, and the client is alone on the other. Worse yet, counselors, in this stance, may find themselves defending the agency's rules and regulations as if the agency is their partner, not the client. That stance leads to one thing: contention.

Our attitudes, as revealed by our language, can be either patronizing or empowering.

Partnership Language

The intent of the Act that guides our work is very clear: to empower people with disabilities. To do that, VR counselors must work with people with disabilities as partners. We, people with and without disabilities, are in this together.