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In the wake of recent, alarming media around employment of people with disability in the public sector, I started writing a press release. It went something like this - 'A dramatic drop in the number of people with disability employed in the public service has sparked alarm amongst disability advocates, who are calling for effective measures to resolve the situation. In 2011, 4.2% of all employees in the Western Australian Public Sector were people with a disability. In 2013, the number has plummeted to a scanty 2.6%...' Then I sat back and looked at it for a while. Sparked alarm? There hasn't been an outcry from most disability groups, despite the fact that our State Government has announced further cuts in the wake of 1200 axed public service jobs. There hasn't been any detailed analysis around what the proposal to tighten up the Disability Support Pension will do to an already fraught issue, nor whether there's a correlation between the 2012 slash...

We sometimes 'discover' concepts and words and ideas that are transplant-able from one 'sector' to another without being appropriative, and here's a magnificent example. There's a really cool project called 'The MicroAggression Project', where a photographer named Kiyun asked her friends to 'write down an instance of racial microaggression they have faced.' The term 'microaggression' was used by Columbia professor Derald Sue to refer to 'brief and commonplace daily verbal, behavioral, or environmental indignities, whether intentional or unintentional, that communicate hostile, derogatory, or negative racial slights and insults toward people of color.' Sue borrowed the term from psychiatrist Dr. Chester Pierce who coined the term in the ’70s. If you're disabled, you'll look at the project and shout 'yes!' I don't know too many people this wouldn't resonate with...I can think of hundreds of microag...

It was the happiest day of my life. He got down on one knee and proposed to me. I couldn't say yes fast enough. Well, almost the happiest day of my life. The happiest day might have come when we actually stood before the celebrant, saying our marriage vows. You know, just like everyone else. I'd heard stories about others who had a different experience. People picketing at their wedding - did anyone picket at your wedding? And people holding their own views about me loving him - not in private, in public. Not whispered, but shouted. Even in a courtroom. Planning a wedding is an expensive exercise, but we loved doing it. Picking out what to wear, who would photograph it. Where we would get married and how we would honeymoon. It was a stressful period of time - but we loved it anyway. And on the Happiest Day, he looked into my eyes and said 'I do'. A week later, we found out we weren't married after all, because the Federal Government intervene...

I have this theory about language in the disability sector. After a while, everything becomes a bad word. Five years ago, 'retarded' was a commonly accepted term within the American disability community. Now it's regarded (rightly) as a slur - an awesome campaign, spread the word to end the word, has made people change their language and their attitudes. But does everything become a bad word? And why? I listen to service providers and community organisations talk about their - wait for it - clients, service users, participants - in either careful terms or in affectionate ones. Invariably, they will talk about their (intellectually disabled) clientele as 'our guys'. It got to the point where the term made me wince, and I wasn't sure why. A couple of rules for the use of the term 'our guys'. It's used indiscriminately, whether you're male or female. It is usually only applied to people with an intellectual disability or p...

I know a lot of fat people. Call it what you will. Morbidly obese, overweight. And some, downright fat. My friend Su laughs with her head thrown back at the notion that she’s a lesser woman because of her weight and drinks another Coke. She’s been known to call herself Fatty McFatfuck, thanks to the movie Ted. Su knows that she is a glorious specimen of womanhood and she will bloody well eat and drink whatever she likes, thank you very much. Clearly, Su doesn’t have a disability. If she did, her choices would probably be severely restricted – a menu of limited options. You want a Coke? Is that a good choice, Su? You know you’re watching your weight. That takeaway? Is that the best choice you can make? It’s hardly nutritious. And that shirt – well, it’s not actually appropriate, is it? We don’t want people seeing your cleavage, do we? What time are you going to go to bed tonight? Well, the attendant won’t be able to work past nine, so it looks like you’re going t...

And herein lies an interesting discussion, a topical one on White Ribbon Day. NDS provides support to service providers. They are their stakeholders, not we people with disability, not family members. I was asked recently if I went to a consultation forum to support service providers to better prevent and respond to abuse and neglect of people with disability. It's part of an NDS national project. I have done some past work and am currently working on some projects around prevention of abuse and neglect against people with disability. Of course I didn't go. I wasn't invited. Neither were any other people with disability. In fact, the invitation was fairly clear in excluding them - - All interested disability service providers. CEOs and operational line managers would especially benefit from attending. - Representatives from disability complaint authorities and other relevant statutory bodies. - Advocacy organisations representing people with disabili...

Here is an explanation of the words 'Vđ', the 'letters after my name'. It was not a name I chose for myself. It was a slur given to me by a group of people who called me and others the 'verbal disabled'. Some of us have chosen to adopt this name and wear it like a Star of David - I choose to speak my truth and turn hate speech around. I wrote that when I was really angry and hurt and upset. Unlike many other people with disability, I have not grown up being discriminated against. I have never been the subject of hate speech - not a cripple nor a retard nor a coon nor a slanteye. None of those hateful and hurtful words, because I grew up as one of us, not one of them. The other day, a young person gave me a powerful gift. She burst into tears, and sobbed with complete anguish over some bad news. She had held it together all day, but when she had finished, she cried. It made me think about how generous some people are with their emotions - it is...