Celebrating the 32nd Anniversary of the American Disabilities Act …

Yesterday marked the 32nd anniversary of the American Disability Act (ADA), officially signed into legislation by President George H.W. Bush on July 26th, 1990. According to the ADA National Network, it was the first comprehensive civil rights act for disabled people. We also celebrate National Disabilities Independence Day today. We should take today to acknowledge the push, resilience, and journey of disability rights leaders and advocates, without a doubt.

But I believe there’s also room to reflect on how much work still needs to be done. The best advocates for disabled rights are disabled people. However, it is also up to non-disabled people to show up as allies and support the work of disability rights advocates. In reality, disability rights should be of interest to all. The disabled community is the largest marginalized community and the fastest growing. Why is that? - Well, anyone can become disabled at any point in their life. So many of you reading this right now probably have a disability, but you a.) have not received a diagnosis for it, b.) don’t believe you’re “disabled enough,” or c.) have been gaslit to think otherwise. There is a multitude of other reasons why you or others you may know may not know you are disabled or have not disclosed you are disabled.

The ADA defines disability as “a physical or mental impairment that substantially limits one or more major life activities”.

According to a press release by the CDC in 2018, one in four U.S. adults has a disability, which correlates with 40% of households having at least one disabled person.

Just let that sink in for a minute … as of 2018, one-fourth of the U.S. population has a disability. Now, this data was collected pre-COVID-19 pandemic. My guess, especially with new data surrounding long-COVID, is that the number will increase in the coming years.

Take a second look at the ADA's definition of disability again. The definition does not determine whether the disability must be permanent or long-standing. This means that a disability can also be temporary.

Here’s a bit of self-disclosure on how this hits home for me: I identify as disabled. I have been diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder and depression. I take medication to help reduce my symptoms that support my ability to function every day. I also have experienced a temporary physical/mobility disability due to a knee injury that I have had corrective surgery to fix.

My mental disabilities - It took a long time for me to acknowledge my diagnosis. For as long as I can remember, I just thought that moving around the world was normal. That being this ball of stress and spiraling was just my thing and that everyone was just better at life than I was. Culturally, mental health was not a thing that was discussed. To be fair - I had biases toward mental health and what it meant to be someone with mental health “issues”. After reading my previous blog post (Yo Soy Joaquin), you can see that my anxiety and depression have been long-standing. I finally opened myself up to the idea of being formally diagnosed after I completed my master’s degree. If I look back on it, I think I pushed back on the formal diagnosis due to my internal ableism (… and, to be fair to myself, how that would impact my already murky understanding of my intersectional identities). However, once getting that diagnosis … it was freeing. I was seeking the support I needed through therapy. I was super active, which helped alleviate my stress and decreased my spirals. My disability was manageable.

However, in December 2019, I experienced a knee injury that resulted in reconstructive knee surgery in January 2020. Some backstory: I initially injured my knee during a soccer game in 2007. The second injury happened six months later. Same knee. Same injury. But due to various issues (e.g., not being taken seriously by my orthopedic at the time, being told it was due to “growing pains,” being an impatient 17-year-old who just wanted to move on), I never really healed properly.

Okay, so jump back to December 2019 - This time, there was no avoiding surgery. I had surgery the last week of January 2020 and had a tremendous orthopedic, even though I know I drove him crazy. I tried to convince him that I didn’t need surgery and would be fine with physical therapy because I know more than a medical professional (sarcasm, of course). He showed me my MRI and the damage that was done, not only from the most recent incident but from the previous injuries.

So, I had the surgery. Nobody explained to me just how much my mental health would be impacted, not only by the trauma of the injury but by the recovery. The very long recovery (It’s now almost 2.5 years later, and I’m still not back to 100%). No one discussed the side effects of the painkillers or the post-surgery blues in conjunction with my mental disability diagnosis. My recovery was slow, agonizing, and frustrating. Two months later, COVID hit.

All the coping mechanisms I had ever known went out the window post-surgery. I couldn’t just get up and go on a walk, run, or lose myself in a dance studio to help release me from all my pent-up emotions. My release was always physical. Going out to meet with friends was hard enough with my crutches and brace. Work was exhausting, too. Luckily, my job accommodated me with two work-from-home days, which supported my physical therapy and doctor follow-ups. That was short-lived, though; I was expected to come back fully into the office in March of 2020 - but then … COVID and the transition to work from home became a universal approach.

Disability rights advocates have been pushing for work-from-home options with pushback from the Courts seeing it as a reasonable accommodation. However, isn’t it interesting that when there was no other option and businesses needed to find a way to maintain productivity, work from home all of a sudden became the solution?

My physical disability, for the most part, is temporary. However, the accommodation to work from home (WFH) supported my recovery in a way that would not have been possible had I not had the option. In many ways, it allowed me to prioritize my health and recovery.

According to the Department of Labor, 65% of disabled people were unemployed as of June 2022. In 2019, the unemployment rate for disabled people was 75%. There has been some fluctuation in the statistics over the past few years, but it’s also important to recognize the 10% increase in the number of employed disabled people in the past three years.

Why is the unemployment rate so high for the disabled community? There’s not just a one-size-fits-all answer. There is bias, prejudice, discrimination, and barriers such as limited transportation options, lack of accessible equipment, inflexible scheduling, etc.

If you work in an office space, I encourage you to look around next time and question if your workspace would be accessible to someone with mobility limitations, who is hard of hearing, or who is visually impaired. Is it a safe space for colleagues to discuss their mental health without judgment? Who makes the decisions for workplace accommodations? Do you know the process to request them?

Post-surgery - I am slowly regaining my physical strength. I have learned that physical activity is not the only way to cope with my mental health diagnosis. For me, it was a bandaid, not a fix. I decided to begin taking anti-anxiety and anti-depression medication. There was a lot of letting go of stigma and shame in taking that step for me. I recognize the privilege of having a support supervisor, decent insurance, and access to support.

Unfortunately, it was also a wake-up call to my blindspots on how inaccessible our society can be.

There’s so much work to do to become a better ally and advocate. There’s room for us to self-reflect and unpack how we perpetuate ableism.

One way to dismantle ableism is to see how we can make the world around us more inclusive. We can diversify opportunities to create more equitable access to them. We can encourage our networks to implement a universal design in their programming, architecture, and policies to serve the disabled community and society better.