“Hierarchy Of Disability”

“The basic goals of the disability movement will be very hard to achieve unless disabled people themselves treat each other with more respect and equality. This will involve challenging hierarchies of disability both within and outside the disability community”-Rachel Stewart

Disability hierarchies are understood as the idea that some impairments are positioned as “worse” or more severe than others, and thus more deserving of stigma. I will examine the different ways a disability hierarchy manifests itself throughout Moving Violations in Hockenberry’s discussion of disabled people he has encountered.

A common belief within both the non-disabled and disabled communities is the concept of a hierarchy of disability. Disability hierarchies position certain impairments as more or less disabling than others, with the idea that some impairments are “better” or less severe than others. The fact that many disabled people believe in a hierarchy of disability only perpetuates the social exclusion and stigma felt by all persons with disabilities.

Disabled people might not know they discriminate against or degrade others with disabilities, but it still occurs, often in forms not easy to recognize. In his memoir, Moving Violations (1996), John Hockenberry continually comments about people who are “really disabled.” Although some of his comments are tongue-in-cheek, many others seem to stem from a deep-rooted belief in a hierarchy of disability.

A disability hierarchy is further reinforced when Hockenberry describes intellectually disabled clients at the nursing home where he worked. He explains them as having “personality defects” (p. 122) and “personalities... obliterated through years of psychoactive drugs like Thorazine and Seconal and institutionalization” (p. 121).

Although they may not be “normal” according to societal expectations, that doesn’t mean that their personalities are non-existent or defective. At the nursing home, the job of the employees is “strict behavior modification” (p. 122) by “putting them in ‘time out’ if they weren’t compliant” (p. 122). They were “under express orders not to give any of the clients attention that they hadn’t earned through screwing screws or writing in workbooks” (p. 122).

Hockenberry talks about two clients in more detail, a couple of friends named Jeanie and Jeff. He first states they are “a well-rehearsed comedy sketch” (p. 127). He took them out one day for a trip to the ocean, and describes how passing motorists would stare at “Jeanie’s blotto face and... Jeff’s undersized head” (p. 128).

Again, he uses degrading words and comments when describing them, belittling their uniqueness. Out for a stroll on the beach, the cops were called because people thought they were carrying out a suicide pact, and Hockenberry was mistaken for just another disabled person, instead of the person who was “in charge.” He states that he was “humiliated” (p. 131)by the whole experience.

A big reason why he describes Jeanie and Jeff in such a degrading way is to reinforce the difference in their types of disability (physical vs.mental), placing himself in an entirely different level on the hierarchy: higher up and thus less disabled. Through such examples, Hockenberry seems to endorse the view that physical disabilities are less “deserving” of stigma than intellectual or psychiatric disabilities.

Hockenberry also places himself as higher up on the disability hierarchy when he goes to visit his Uncle Charlie in a nursing home. When he first entered the nursing home, he thought to himself: “In this place, I was the normal one” (p. 347). Again, this only reflects his belief that people with developmental disabilities are much more disabled than he is, and compared with them, he isn’t disabled at all.

One could also conclude from this statement that people inside of nursing homes are abnormal. Either way, he fails to explain the problem of locking up disabled people in institutions away from the “normal” people. He goes on to describe his Uncle as “a little man in a wheelchair with a bib on being fed a mixture of green mush and brown mush... [whose] eyes were darting aimlessly around the room” (p. 347). Hockenberry also states thatwhen he said good-bye to Charlie, “his face twisted into a scowl, his eyes darted up to the ceiling, and he turned away” (p. 353). These descriptions portray Charlie as a “little man” who doesn’t understand what is going on around him.

Also, Hockenberry continues the practice of dehumanization when he likens his visit with Charlie as visiting an animal in a cage: “I was another one of those people who showed up every few years to rattle his cage, or tap on his glass tank to get a rise out of him” (p. 348). Although Charlie may be locked up in an institution (and not by his own will, but as a result of his parents decision), he is certainly not an animal. It is this kind of dehumanization which has led to disabled people being put away in institutions where nondisabled society can largely ignore them and not have to deal with them.

The disability hierarchy is also seen in Hockenberry’s phrasing and the way he lists things. This is evident in his description of his encounter with disabled skiers. He starts listing the different types of amputees, ending with: “Then there were the hot dogs, the armless torsos on legs whose balance was adjusted with a move of the head or shoulder. At the top of the heap were the leg amputees who skied solo on a single limb” (p. 219).

Hockenberry lists the different amputees first describing the least disadvantaged, those with one prosthetic leg and one muscular leg, then to the “top of the heap” more disabled skiers, the “hot dogs” and those skiing with just one leg. This technique of listing from less disabled to more disabled is also seen when Hockenberry describes the different clinical names for the people he was in rehab with: “I was a para.

Hockenberry’s writing is that he does not promote a message of universal dignity and respect. It is precisely the idea that there are some people who are “really disabled” and others who are not, which leads to social hierarchies between disabled people. Through this discourse, some disabilities become acceptable, while others remain highly stigmatized and are subject to social exclusion.

Unfortunately, this argument also seems to imply that people who are “really disabled” somehow deserve the lack of rights and disrespect which they receive. After all, they are “really disabled” and therefore it may be impossible for them to have social inclusion. This message is antithetical to the foundational principles of the disability movement. Dividing people with disabilities according to who is “really disabled” and who is “not really disabled” also diverts attention from the stigma, prejudice and inaccessible resources that we all share in common.

Whether the barriers are attitudinal or physical, the disability movement has challenged practices of social exclusion by promoting alternative messages of inclusion based on respect for diversity. When Hockenberry flippantly and disrespectfully describes the bodily habits of other people with disabilities, he is unfortunately promoting messages that run contrary to the entire spirit of the disability movement.

Although this is an autobiography, and Hockenberry is entitled to his opinion in his autobiography, many people are reading it and getting a certain message. This message is harmful and hurtful to many disabled people. All in all, the basic goals of the disability movement will be very hard to achieve unless disabled people themselves treat each other with more respect and equality. This will involve challenging hierarchies of disability both within and outside the disability community.

Intellectual disability is at the bottom of the disability hierarchy.That is, a great many people who have other types of disabilities actively try to distance themselves from intellectual disability, “we’re not one of them.” People with developmental disabilities might get caught in the overlap as people can have both types of disabilities.

The opinions and contributions of people with intellectual disabilities isn’t seen as valuable or as important as those of people who have different types of disabilities.

Once we with disabilities really understand this, get it in our heart of hearts, it’s so much easier to rise above all the ableism we have internalized. It’s easier to see people with intellectual disabilities and know that they are indeed one of us. They face all the same stuff we do, all the discrimination and prejudice (only more than we do because they get it from the greater disability communities as well as from the non-disabled mainstream).

Like us, their disabilities have given them something, but simply as human beings they have worth and value in and of themselves.

Our problem is not with the different disability communities; our problem is ableism and a mainstream culture that is actively telling us to change ourselves to be like them. Turning on each other and pushing another disability group lower won’t help us rise.

The 'physical' disability lobby has been extremely successful in raising awareness of the issues faced by having a world catering only to the physically able. In fact, the physical disability lobby has been so successful that the wider community seems to forget that the disability sector includes a very significant number of people with a mental impairment, at times even alongside a physical impairment.

Why are things different for those with intellectual disabilities? Why are people with intellectual disabilities more disconnected? I feel that it is simply mainstream society's fear of the unknown.

People who are fully intellectually able and articulate are championed. We’re amazed by Matt Hallat, a Paralympian downhill skier with one leg; by Nick Vujucic, who was born without limbs but shares his story and hope with others; by the mind and ideas of Stephen Hawking, who has cerebral palsy; and by Hilary Lister, a quadriplegic woman who sailed around the word solo.

Yet acceptance is not so forthcoming for people with intellectual disabilities. Although some individuals with a mild intellectual impairment have achieved success in sport or the arts, and this is celebrated to a degree, by and large people with intellectual disabilities do not experience the same acceptance.

If a mental impairment is mild, and an individual can care for themselves, converse, form relationships and work, the lack of acceptance is not so pronounced.

Unfortunately, where a mental impairment is more severe or profound, or coupled with physical disability, wider acceptance evaporates. It can be difficult to communicate with a person who does not use speech, to interact with someone who requires high levels of assistance with mobility and personal care, or engage with someone who may not have complete control of their sounds or movements. As a result, many people with such severe or profound disabilities are avoided, ignored and rejected. They, along with their parents and carers, risk being marginalised.

For decades, people with intellectual disabilities were denied an education in most schools; governments did not have dedicated specialist schools. For decades, people with intellectual disabilities were institutionalised, often separated from their families. The community has been the poorer for missing out on the participation of those with intellectual disabilities.

Were that not the case, would our society be more appreciative and less competitive? More patient and empathetic? More compassionate and inclusive?