Consent and disability

This week, I've been thinking a lot about consent and how — for disabled people — consent is often sacrificed at the expense of someone wanting to help or thinking they know better.

Here's an example. 

You’re out and come up against a hill. You know this hill well. You’ve navigated it before, you know where to stop to catch your breath, and you know that you’re able to get to the top on your own. It just takes a little more effort than usual. 

As you’re pushing your way up, you hear a voice behind you asking if they can help. Before you can even answer fully, their hands are on your wheelchair, pushing you up. You say “No, thanks!” and they respond, “Oh, it’s no trouble” and get you to the top of the hill. 

At first read, it’s easy to think “Oh, what a helpful stranger, they just wanted to help.” Right? But what is actually happening is that this person hasn't allowed you to express your consent and have taken agency over your movement. 

Note: I've used wheelchair users as an example here, because that's my own experience, but I have no doubt this applies to anyone that uses a mobility aid or that doesn't move in the way that non-disabled people expect people to move.

A situation like this one (and I've had my fair share of them) can be quite scary and uncomfortable. For starters, because this person is coming from behind, I usually haven't even seen the face of the person “helping” me. That feels really iffy to me. I've really had zero connection to the person who has decided it's ok to touch my chair. 

Second, when someone is pushing me, I lose a lot of the control over my movement. Yes, I can use my hands to brake my wheels somewhat, and even apply the brakes if I'm desperate, but even that can lead to problematic movement that could put us both in danger if we're near a busy road, for example. 

Third, if I try to buckle down on my “No, thanks” and convince them that I don't actually need help — also known as expressing my lack of consent — some people will turn that around and label me as “difficult” or “stubborn.” And while in the grand scheme of things that may not sound like much, this shift in perception can be dangerous. If you go from being “the poor little disabled person who needs my help” to “this ungrateful bitch who won't accept my selfless act” while this person is still in control of your mobility device, you're at the mercy of the shape their anger takes. 

 In most cases, I feel like my only real option is to go with the flow of the situation because it's ultimately safer to do so. 

This situation can manifest in a number of ways, and it’s uncomfortable every single time. 

I'd like to note that it's not just strangers that cross this boundary. For many disabled people, it can happen with family members or carers, too. Family members and carers will do things and “help” the way they think is best without giving the disabled person the agency to express consent. 

Sometimes this happens because they are used to doing things a certain way and don't leave space for the fact that something may have changed or that the disabled person wants to do things differently. At other times, it's a very uncomfortable power dynamic at play.

When someone touches our mobility aid or our bodies without consent, disabled people lose agency — even if the situation looks harmless or trivial on the surface. And given that disabled people already live with so much limited agency (because ableism) I think that non-disabled folks can and should do more to empower disabled folks rather than take power away from them. 

So, what are the alternatives?

Always give room for consent. Always, always. Ask questions such as “Would you like me to help you?” or “How can I support you in doing X or Y?”

Listen to and respect the answer. “No” is a complete sentence, and it is not intended to harm your ego. If a disabled person chooses to do something on their own, and does not give consent for you to touch them or their mobility device, that does not make them stubborn or ungrateful.

Remember that every disabled individual is completely aware of what they can and can’t accomplish. It just may look different than what you think is “normal."

Non-disabled folks, you have a responsibility here. Whether you're approaching a stranger who looks like they may need help or are supporting someone you know intimately, always make sure you have consent before you do help. 

And please, please remember that our consent and comfort does and should not come at the expense of your wanting to help.