Just before Christmas, I was asked to appear on Radio 4's You and Yours programme to give my opinions on the effects of the Disability Discrimination Act. (See my last column to get an idea of my feelings about it - then just add a ton more disenchantment and a sprinkle of anger.)
Now, I get asked on these programmes to be a "fun, funny and lively" guest. However, I was feeling none of these things on this particular occasion, mainly due to a series of bad experiences I had suffered the week before. Firstly, I had dyed my hair brown for an acting role, which led me to witness just how rude and ignorant the general public can be to a wheelchair user who doesn't look like a reject from Mad Max. Then, after peroxiding my hair back to blonde, I was physically manhandled on a visit to a nightclub, and forced to sit in a corner because that was "where disabled people sit"; the management blamed this on the conflict between the fire regulations and the DDA!
But back to You and Yours. After a while, good old Peter White turned to me, and as soon as I opened my mouth I found myself spouting a very angry rant on the uselessness of the DDA. I explained my conspiracy theory that it is all a government plot to stop our disability benefits while not giving us equal rights, and I also mentioned my recent nightmare in the nightclub. I could see in the eyes of everyone in the studio that this hoped for from their "fun, funny and lively" contributor. My exact words (as taken from the show's transcript) were:
"I am so angry about it that I am actually considering starting up a revolutionary army and blowing these [inaccessible] buildings up."
How wide of the mark was my comedy genius?! The stunned look of horror that now filled the faces of all before me showed me that in these post 9/11 days, even a joke about terrorism is not well received. The show continued, but I could sense Peter's fear every time he came to me ... what would I say next?
After the show the production team came out, and we all laughed nervously. "That'll teach you to ask me not to swear," I told them. I had been so busy trying to avoid bad language that I forgot to keep it cheerful.
Ever since that day, I have had one thought eating away at me: is the idea of disabled people being pushed to violent action such a comic idea?
Think about it. In America, the Black population rose up during the 1960's, and while most credit Martin Luther King with being the main driving force, historians now agree that Malcolm X and the Black Panthers where equally important. Mr King's peaceful message needed the more aggressive tone employed by Mr X as something to work against.
The disability movement used to be VERY militant. When I first came into contact with the political side of disability, I soon began to share in the many grievances about continued inequality, and to appreciate why the activists were so angry.
The problem is that this no longer seems to be the attitude of the majority of disabled people. Those I meet seem resigned to their lot, and have adopted a stance on equality that is a mixture of "slowly, slowly, catchy monkey" and "as long as I'm doing all right, who cares?" Even those who were once politically active now seem to be too busy paying the mortgage to rock the boat, while others seem to have travelled on an opposite journey to me and are prepared to do almost anything to earn a crust.
I fully understand that we live in a society that rewards conformists, and which can reward disabled conformists so that they can be held up to us as examples of what we could do if only we tried. I know too that our priorities change with age. Hey, I'll even admit that it must have got demoralising to spend so much time protesting while things changed so slowly.
The sad thing is that as one generation of paint-throwing, handcuff-owning protestors slipped away into conformity, the next generation by-passed the paint and bondage gear and went straight to being a "valid member of society". They feel they have more rights now than they did ten or fifteen years ago, but I'm not so sure. I personally don't feel more equal to my able-bodied friends now than I did then.
The inclusive attitude towards gaining equality will only truly work if there is something for it to work against, something much more pro-active. Why should disabled people be taken as a serious political force if we are always so nice and passive? It only works to have bubbly, media-friendly disabled personalities if they have rebellious, outspoken and politically aware equals who get the same amount of airtime. If nothing else, this would demonstrate that us disabled types are just as different from each other as we are from the able-bodied.
So, in closing, I ask you:
Have you been waiting so long for equality that you worry that you might actually die before getting it?
Does society offer you so little that you don't feel part of it?
Does the anger you feel at your inequality choke you when you think about it?
Do you think that no one listens to you and your grievances?
Now think ... if the answer is "yes" to these questions, then you feel the same as many terrorists. Scary, huh?
Just before Christmas, I was asked to appear on Radio 4's You and Yours programme to give my opinions on the effects of the Disability Discrimination Act. (See my last column to get an idea of my feelings about it - then just add a ton more disenchantment and a sprinkle of anger.)
Now, I get asked on these programmes to be a "fun, funny and lively" guest. However, I was feeling none of these things on this particular occasion, mainly due to a series of bad experiences I had suffered the week before. Firstly, I had dyed my hair brown for an acting role, which led me to witness just how rude and ignorant the general public can be to a wheelchair user who doesn't look like a reject from Mad Max. Then, after peroxiding my hair back to blonde, I was physically manhandled on a visit to a nightclub, and forced to sit in a corner because that was "where disabled people sit"; the management blamed this on the conflict between the fire regulations and the DDA!
But back to You and Yours. After a while, good old Peter White turned to me, and as soon as I opened my mouth I found myself spouting a very angry rant on the uselessness of the DDA. I explained my conspiracy theory that it is all a government plot to stop our disability benefits while not giving us equal rights, and I also mentioned my recent nightmare in the nightclub. I could see in the eyes of everyone in the studio that this hoped for from their "fun, funny and lively" contributor. My exact words (as taken from the show's transcript) were:
"I am so angry about it that I am actually considering starting up a revolutionary army and blowing these [inaccessible] buildings up."
How wide of the mark was my comedy genius?! The stunned look of horror that now filled the faces of all before me showed me that in these post 9/11 days, even a joke about terrorism is not well received. The show continued, but I could sense Peter's fear every time he came to me ... what would I say next?
After the show the production team came out, and we all laughed nervously. "That'll teach you to ask me not to swear," I told them. I had been so busy trying to avoid bad language that I forgot to keep it cheerful.
Ever since that day, I have had one thought eating away at me: is the idea of disabled people being pushed to violent action such a comic idea?
Think about it. In America, the Black population rose up during the 1960's, and while most credit Martin Luther King with being the main driving force, historians now agree that Malcolm X and the Black Panthers where equally important. Mr King's peaceful message needed the more aggressive tone employed by Mr X as something to work against.
The disability movement used to be VERY militant. When I first came into contact with the political side of disability, I soon began to share in the many grievances about continued inequality, and to appreciate why the activists were so angry.
The problem is that this no longer seems to be the attitude of the majority of disabled people. Those I meet seem resigned to their lot, and have adopted a stance on equality that is a mixture of "slowly, slowly, catchy monkey" and "as long as I'm doing all right, who cares?" Even those who were once politically active now seem to be too busy paying the mortgage to rock the boat, while others seem to have travelled on an opposite journey to me and are prepared to do almost anything to earn a crust.
I fully understand that we live in a society that rewards conformists, and which can reward disabled conformists so that they can be held up to us as examples of what we could do if only we tried. I know too that our priorities change with age. Hey, I'll even admit that it must have got demoralising to spend so much time protesting while things changed so slowly.
The sad thing is that as one generation of paint-throwing, handcuff-owning protestors slipped away into conformity, the next generation by-passed the paint and bondage gear and went straight to being a "valid member of society". They feel they have more rights now than they did ten or fifteen years ago, but I'm not so sure. I personally don't feel more equal to my able-bodied friends now than I did then.
The inclusive attitude towards gaining equality will only truly work if there is something for it to work against, something much more pro-active. Why should disabled people be taken as a serious political force if we are always so nice and passive? It only works to have bubbly, media-friendly disabled personalities if they have rebellious, outspoken and politically aware equals who get the same amount of airtime. If nothing else, this would demonstrate that us disabled types are just as different from each other as we are from the able-bodied.
So, in closing, I ask you:
Have you been waiting so long for equality that you worry that you might actually die before getting it?
Does society offer you so little that you don't feel part of it?
Does the anger you feel at your inequality choke you when you think about it?
Do you think that no one listens to you and your grievances?
Now think ... if the answer is "yes" to these questions, then you feel the same as many terrorists. Scary, huh?