Disability, Democrats, and Reagan’s Ghost

It is time I think to ask why the Democrats can’t speak about disability during their convention. In raising this question I mean no disrespect to the tireless and righteous disabled who’ve pushed for disability recognition in electoral politics. The disabled are not the problem. As they used to say on the shampoo bottle: rinse and repeat. The disabled are not the problem.

It is time I think to ask why the Democrats can’t speak about disability during their convention. In raising this question I mean no disrespect to the tireless and righteous disabled who’ve pushed for disability recognition in electoral politics. The disabled are not the problem. As they used to say on the shampoo bottle: rinse and repeat. The disabled are not the problem.

Make no mistake: I’m voting for Biden-Harris. I think Kamala Harris is a splendid VP choice and Biden, though more conservative than I’d wish is a slam dunk to lead the US in a time of unprecedented agony.

But why after three nights have Democrats failed to say the word “disability”?

In her new book “What Can a Body Do: How We Meet the Built World” Sara Hendren notes that before a building is constructed, before the blueprints are sketched, designers have what’s called “a brief”:

“Designers work from what’s called a brief—a challenge presented to them by a client or collaborator with a more or less straightforward goal. It’s a description of what’s required at the end of the collaboration: a building, a playground, or a product, for example. You can call the designer’s task a “problem” to solve if you want, and plenty of people do. But tackling design as a matter of problems misses much of the point. At its best, a brief is packed with questions that can be addressed by any number of methods. A brief isn’t just a recipe-style checklist. It’s a horizon, an imagined result, and an invitation for working toward that end, with a high degree of openness as to how the work gets done. That openness to interpretation can be an uneasy experience, but it’s this kind of generative encounter that I actively seek to set up for my engineering students. When the work of a design team begins, across messy tables strewn with sketches and coffee cups, amid the building and the talking, there’s a challenge before us, and there are lots of roads we could take to get there.”

I believe the Democratic Party thinks of the disabled as nothing more than a check list. As check-listers we’re not seen as having the potential to foster a generative encounter with the brief for a more perfect union. We remain an uneasy affair.

This is not because the Dems lack a disability platform. You can view it here.

If you look closely at the link above you’ll see that disability is nowhere conceived as an opportunity for imagination. Instead it’s a problem–and the brief is to save us from the Trump administration’s cruel cuts to Medicare, Medicaid, and Social Security. May Democrats be elected. May this salvation be so. But rinse and repeat: the cripples are not seen as an opportunity for probative and vital imagination. That the proposed “Build Back Better” economy could be richly accessible and inclusive has nowhere been mentioned.

Where is Senator Tammy Duckworth?

Imagination where disability is concerned requires bravery. In my view the reason disability can’t be said aloud is that the Democratic Party can’t stand up for FDR’s vision. The Brief is the economic bill of rights. Reagan changed the playing field: he called economic security programs “entitlements” as if saving citizens from wanton despair was a scam. The GOP still believes this. Look at their refusal to enact further life saving economic relief for tens of millions.

By not mentioning disability the Democrats are revealing how afraid they still are of Reagan’s ghost.

By not mentioning disability the Dems keep us “medicalized” in the public’s imagination. We’re not living examples of pluck and possibility. We’re lonely patients or mendicants.

I’m affronted by the evidence of things not seen and heard. Rinse and repeat.

Has Someone Stolen Your Broken Soul?

What if I could tell you how the story ends? Would I be Bocaccio? Yes I’d be a moralist. Such a role is unappealing. I think we can all agree there are too many narrative moralists already. Laurence Sterne wrote: “Respect for ourselves guides our morals; respect for others guides our manners” One may fair say Americans have little respect for themselves. This is why our voters—the few who show up—dislike the most honest candidates. They require plenty of disrespect. If you believed Ronald Reagan’s oft repeated story about welfare queens driving Cadillacs you couldn’t possibly like yourself. The question before us now is can Joe Biden’s campaign which aims at reconciliation and kindness actually succeed? Can Americans decide that just for once they might vote for self-respect?

I’m not Bocaccio. Nor am I a TV pundit. I don’t have the skills of Steve Kornacki who, seemingly, can drill down into the most mullioned voter numbers. But I”d feel better if public analysis of our electorate focused on the victimization narratives that unhappy Americans live by. Left, Right, moderate, fascist, socialist, what have you absolutely all comers are like Rodney Dangerfield—they don’t get no respect. Donald Trump’s rallies are entirely about this. So are Bernie Sanders’ events. Someone is conspiring against you. You’re not sufficiently loved. There’s a deep state or the establishment or your third grade teacher who’s gonna get ya.

As a disabled person I know a good deal about persecution. I’ve been told I don’t belong almost everywhere and yes, ever since I took my first steps. I’ve lived the story of feeling like I’m not sufficiently loved. This is a trap. Victims don’t understand love. One thinks of Carl Jung’s observation: “Nothing is possible without love…for love puts one in a mood to risk everything.”

Victims take no risks.

Respect for others means you took a risk and it means you’ve learned some manners. What do I think that means? Not instantly criticizing someone who’s said something that trips your switches. Not immediately disdaining people who appear ill clothed but are driving luxury cars. Not hating yourself because some imaginary person has stolen your broken soul.