MaDisabilities are a blessing because, for the most part, they have made me who I am. I choose to be a blessing. Some people see disabilities as a curse and get depressed because they think they are holding them back. It is I who hold me back. At the same time, I am not so naive as to think that barriers do not exist in the world.
The World Health Organization estimates that 15% of the total population has a disability. Let’s round that down to 10%. Imagine you have 100 children on a small island, 10 of whom have some kind of disability. However, due to limited funds, you can only educate 50 of the children without disabilities, because it costs more (additional teacher training, equipment, infrastructure) to educate the disabled. That’s the reality. So, do these children not deserve all that? No, they don’t.
During my recent visit to Kenya, I met university professors who are deaf, autistic and visually impaired. Imagine what would happen if they did not have the opportunity to receive higher education. These incredible people would not be able to contribute to their communities. Apart from the fact that they are disability activists and advocates, they contribute every day. What would happen if they were not given the opportunity?
The challenge is that we need to recognize that people with disabilities do not have to be exceptional and have the right to be included. I understand that it is economical and practical, but we need to start with inclusion. If there is a ramp, does it prevent a fully ambulatory person from entering a building? No. But if there are only stairs, it will prevent someone with mobility challenges from entering a building.
Every person with a disability deserves the space to reach their full potential. That’s the legacy I want to leave.
For those who are deaf or hard of hearing, when Zoom introduces American Sign Language (ASL) and subtitles (not a great feature, but it’s already there), does that mean that if you’re planning an event, you’ll have to rely on Zoom’s artificial intelligence (AI) to meet all your needs?
But at the very least, deaf people have a right to participate in any meeting or webinar, so everyone should have subtitles turned on. Subtitles should be natural, not alien, to the person who turns them on. That’s a start. That way deaf people can participate in any meeting or webinar.
It is normal to start with at least basic considerations, and our society needs to get there. If you are going to have a carnival festival, make sure it is enjoyable for people with disabilities. There are several ways to make these events enjoyable. Accept that there will be people with disabilities who want to participate in the festival. Even if no one comes, at least there will be a space or area where those who do can retreat.
and othersEarlier in September, Harrison College, a top secondary school in Barbados (as much as I hate to say it), welcomed its first blind student and I taught him how to use a computer. I know I have won when I see things like that, like when I get the first blind lawyer in the Caribbean or when I find out there is a program for people with disabilities.
In July, the Barbados Council for Persons with Disabilities concluded its first “My Inclusive School” competition, which challenged schools to make their schools more inclusive to persons with disabilities. These are the things I measure my success by.
As vice-chair of the Commonwealth Disability Forum, we are developing a Disability Inclusion Action Plan and encouraging Commonwealth governments to support a more inclusive approach to disability in different projects and programmes. This is the next big international initiative I would like to see happen. Getting 56 countries to sign up to one thing is a big challenge.
Nonetheless, I think awareness of disability in the Caribbean is improving. St. Kitts and Nevis has a ministry that deals with disability issues, but they may not be the only ones dealing with disability issues. Barbados has a National Disability Unit, which is a government agency that reports to the Ministry of Citizens’ Empowerment and Senior Citizens’ Affairs.
My disability does not make me a lesser person. I have the same dreams and hopes as any other 50-year-old woman.
The Caribbean Court of Justice issued guidelines this year on how law officers should handle disability issues in courts. Barbados, Trinidad and St. Vincent are pending disability rights legislation, and in July the Central Bank of Barbados published marketing conduct guidelines saying banks must offer more services to people with disabilities.
These are all great things, but there are still too many examples where disabled people have to beg for equal treatment, where people act as if they are doing us a favour rather than fulfilling our rights, and where governments fail to ensure that disabled people can become contributing members of society.
People still see us as beneficiaries, objects and subjects of services. Passive recipients. Not actively involved. Although there are banks with smart automated banking machines (ABM/ATM), there is not a single ABM in Barbados that I can use independently. People with disabilities still have to fight to be accepted as part of society.
and othersLiving with a disability is a daily challenge. Things that are small and easy for others are huge stressors for us, and for me, it’s a challenge just because I’m blind. Like when my cat leaves the house without notice and I have to spend 10 minutes looking for her, and she’s sitting in the middle of the floor, very quietly looking at me and smiling. That’s one of the funniest examples, but there are other stressors that we have to deal with every day.
We are still seen by the general public as many different things that we are not supposed to be. But awareness is growing exponentially and we are at a stage of integration. What we really need is a stage of inclusion. Inclusion and integration are different. They are not interchangeable.
As I grew older and spent time with other struggles, my perception of people with disabilities changed. Sometimes, people with disabilities treat the sighted and able-bodied people around them as legs they don’t have, hands they can’t use, lips they can’t speak with, eyes they can’t see. But people with disabilities are so much more than that, and we are so much more than that. They are all a complementary package. Stop focusing on the one or ten things that are hard for you, and start realizing there is so much more you can do.
Having a disability does not make me a lesser human being. I have the same dreams and aspirations as any other 50-year-old woman. Every person with a disability deserves a place where they can reach their full potential. That’s the legacy I want to leave.
I am the first blind woman to serve as a Senator for Barbados, the first blind person to serve as Vice President and President, the first woman and the youngest person to do so. I was 38 years old then; I am now 50.
Some days I wake up and I don’t want to fight it anymore. Some days I truly wish I didn’t have to do this every day. Other days I can’t imagine life without it. It’s an exhausting, tireless battle.
I’ve been told I’ve been single for a long time because I’m intimidating. Prime Minister Mia Mottley has told me I’m funny. I’ve been told I’m smart. I’ve been told I have a mischievous smile. I like to think of myself as me.
I was the first blind woman to serve in the Barbados Senate (there were blind men before me), the first blind person to serve as Vice President and President, the first woman to serve as President and the youngest person to hold that office. I was 38 then; I am now 50!
I’ve traveled the length and breadth of the Caribbean. I went to Kenya alone, meaning without a carer. I have that right. I don’t need to be put in a wheelchair or told I can’t fly because I’m blind. I’m not a pilot. BTW, I met a blind pilot. Miles Hilton Barber flew solo from England to Sydney. Look him up.
I get out of bed to focus on tomorrow and on what is in front of me today. Receiving the prestigious Anthony N. Sabga Award for Caribbean Excellence this year and receiving the Freedom of Barbados last year means someone is paying attention to what I am doing and has given me the opportunity to reflect on what my life has achieved.
There is a saying in the disability community that “you can’t talk about us without us.” However, I have adopted a saying from the late Jeannie Newman that “you can’t talk about anything without us.” I get annoyed when people call me an inspiration. I don’t think I excel at anything, but many say that because of low expectations. I sometimes wonder what would happen if people realized I was just a regular person.
