Back when I was a wee little child, nearly all of the federal, state, and private charity organizations which provided services to kids like me had the word "Handicapped" in their title.
And then, at some point (and I can't remember exactly when this happened -- mid-'70s or '80s, perhaps?), there was a cultural paradigm shift, and "Handicapped" became a word to avoid at all costs, because it was offensive and derogatory. The idea sprang up, and became widely accepted, that the word "handicapped" had its origins in crippled people sitting on the corner, 'cap in hand,' begging for their livelihood.
Well, around that time, there was a debate about whether The North American Riding for the Handicapped Association (NARHA) should change its name to The North American Riding for the Disabled Association. If I recall correctly, it was someone on the board of the NARHA-affliated riding school I went to who remembered that I was a wordy sort of person, and that I could write, who asked me to look into it and write up an editorial-type piece for the school's therapeutic riding newsletter.
So I did. I don't remember my sources, exactly (This was before Google, or even the Internet -- OMG!!), but I what I discovered was pretty much the same information that's discussed here:
Take Our Word for It: Spotlight on "Handicapped"
Namely: that the word has nothing to do with begging; it first appeared in use around the middle of the 17th Century, as the name for a game called "Hand in the Cap." The link above gives detailed rules for the game, but it was basically a way to swap items of unequal value, with an umpire, whose job was to decide which item was worth more, and by how much. By the middle of the 18th Century, the same basic idea of the swapping game was applied to races between horses of unequal strength, with an umpire to decide which of the horses was stronger, and how much extra weight he should carry in order to even the odds for the weaker horse. It wasn't long before that same idea was brought over to golf. "Handicapped" didn't get referred to individual people until the start of the 20th century.
So, in my opinion piece, I argued that NARHA should keep its name; "handicapped" was a term to take pride in, since it implied that I was stronger than the average Joe, and that I had just as much chance to "win the race" as anyone else. Also, I said, the word had a longer history with horses than with charity. And, frankly, the acronym "NARDA" sounds bad.
Being young, full of myself, and a Word Nerd purist, I also insisted<, for a while, on continuing to use "handicapped" when everyone else was using "disabled." Or at least, I tried. I got tired of interupting conversations in order to give a mini lecture on etymology every time I saw the other person flinch (and they flinched almost every time).
My personal pride of "I know more-better than you, so there!" means diddly-squat. It doesn't matter what the real history of "handicap" is. The simple arrangement of those three syllables reminds people of beggars, and no one wants to associate themselves with that, even if it is just an inkblot for the ear. So I've decided to just use "Disabled," like everyone else. Because language should make communicating easier, not provide unnecessary blocks.
(I still think an organized day of "Hand-in-the-cap" would be a great way for charity organizations to raise money, though. If the name is too offensive, we could call it by its pre-17th Century name: "Newe Faire") ;-)
And then, at some point (and I can't remember exactly when this happened -- mid-'70s or '80s, perhaps?), there was a cultural paradigm shift, and "Handicapped" became a word to avoid at all costs, because it was offensive and derogatory. The idea sprang up, and became widely accepted, that the word "handicapped" had its origins in crippled people sitting on the corner, 'cap in hand,' begging for their livelihood.
Well, around that time, there was a debate about whether The North American Riding for the Handicapped Association (NARHA) should change its name to The North American Riding for the Disabled Association. If I recall correctly, it was someone on the board of the NARHA-affliated riding school I went to who remembered that I was a wordy sort of person, and that I could write, who asked me to look into it and write up an editorial-type piece for the school's therapeutic riding newsletter.
So I did. I don't remember my sources, exactly (This was before Google, or even the Internet -- OMG!!), but I what I discovered was pretty much the same information that's discussed here:
Take Our Word for It: Spotlight on "Handicapped"
Namely: that the word has nothing to do with begging; it first appeared in use around the middle of the 17th Century, as the name for a game called "Hand in the Cap." The link above gives detailed rules for the game, but it was basically a way to swap items of unequal value, with an umpire, whose job was to decide which item was worth more, and by how much. By the middle of the 18th Century, the same basic idea of the swapping game was applied to races between horses of unequal strength, with an umpire to decide which of the horses was stronger, and how much extra weight he should carry in order to even the odds for the weaker horse. It wasn't long before that same idea was brought over to golf. "Handicapped" didn't get referred to individual people until the start of the 20th century.
So, in my opinion piece, I argued that NARHA should keep its name; "handicapped" was a term to take pride in, since it implied that I was stronger than the average Joe, and that I had just as much chance to "win the race" as anyone else. Also, I said, the word had a longer history with horses than with charity. And, frankly, the acronym "NARDA" sounds bad.
Being young, full of myself, and a Word Nerd purist, I also insisted<, for a while, on continuing to use "handicapped" when everyone else was using "disabled." Or at least, I tried. I got tired of interupting conversations in order to give a mini lecture on etymology every time I saw the other person flinch (and they flinched almost every time).
My personal pride of "I know more-better than you, so there!" means diddly-squat. It doesn't matter what the real history of "handicap" is. The simple arrangement of those three syllables reminds people of beggars, and no one wants to associate themselves with that, even if it is just an inkblot for the ear. So I've decided to just use "Disabled," like everyone else. Because language should make communicating easier, not provide unnecessary blocks.
(I still think an organized day of "Hand-in-the-cap" would be a great way for charity organizations to raise money, though. If the name is too offensive, we could call it by its pre-17th Century name: "Newe Faire") ;-)
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Date: 2009-03-24 11:54 pm (UTC)I will have to watch and see if anybody with a disability flinches.
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Date: 2009-03-25 12:08 am (UTC)BTW, have you thought about whether therapeutic riding would be good for you? I know it works wonders for me, as it helps the brain find new pathways for the "normal walking" neural patterns. And I've seen therapeutic riding work wonders with kids on the autism spectrum, too. Maybe if there's a place near you, you could get a family discount... ;-)
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Date: 2009-03-25 01:07 am (UTC)I have a friend with a horse.
I am afraid of horses.
It's an interesting thought, nonetheless, and I do know how to ride, at least very basically.
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Date: 2009-03-25 01:41 am (UTC)It's basically physical therapy that just happens to be on horseback: stretching and balancing exercises, etc., under the guidance of a physical therapist. And the horses have been trained, too, not to freak at the sight of wheelchairs or crutches, and to be cool when there are people with iffy balance on their backs. Learning the skills of riding is a bonus.
The thing is, that the movement of the horse's back, when the horse is at the walk is exactly the same the same as a natural, normal human walking gait. That is: once you're on horseback, the brain can't tell the difference in sensation, from the hips up, between being on the horse and walking normally on the ground.
So it was really good for me, who has a congenital condition, because my brain had never gotten that "this is what normal walking feels like" memory in the first place, so riding gave my kinetic memory centers several "aha moments" every riding session. Plus, the warmth of the horse's body helped to relax and stretch tight muscles.
For kids with autism and asperger's, riding gives them a way to communicate and be independent with a non-judgey creature who's a heck of a lot less confusing than people....
Anyway, just a thought...
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Date: 2009-03-25 01:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-26 02:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-26 05:42 pm (UTC)(I almost wrote this as an eta to my "Spades" post, but then decided that would push it into "tl;dr" territory)
Two things I did note, after reading the Take our word for it article (that I hadn't processed fully, in my first round of quick research):
I still think NARDA would be a clumsy acronym, though, and in the context of horses and sport (NARHA also organizes competitions), "Handicapped" still makes sense.
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Date: 2009-03-26 07:29 pm (UTC)From my pov I think you're missing:
3. Visceral reactions caused by association.
Over here the generation of people sent to X service for "the handicapped" at a time when such services were almost uniformly patronising/humiliating at best and downright abusive at worst were the generation who rejected that word and chose "disabled" instead. I suspect that making a break with the past, both their individual pasts and our collective social pasts, by rejecting a triggery term was as important as any intellectual reason for many, perhaps even a majority, of the people doing the rejecting.
Still an excellent post though. Thank you again.
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Date: 2009-03-26 09:52 pm (UTC)Absolutely. The exact same thing was true over on this side of the pond, as well. The cultural switch was made as soon as there was a critical mass of individuals in the Disability community who were in a position to advocate for themselves rather than being advocated for* by self-proclaimed able-bodied "allies."
The point I was trying to make, with my youthful arrogance and word-purist attitudes, was that the denotative meanings of words are still important, and since we were coming into power, we could choose to either change our words, or change the associations with the words we were currently saddled with: if "Handicapped" had been linked to pity and abuse in the past, we now had the power to take that strong, good, word, and use it with dignity and pride.
But I underestimated the power of existing associations....
*I think one reason why the disabled community took so long, relatively speaking, to organize and advocate on its own behalf is that "Disability" is one of the few minorities where people are isolated within our own families -- we don't have elders to turn to, or figures of authority in our proverbial "villages" who share our experiences. And a lot of the time, the prejudice we have to fight comes from within our own families, who, sometimes out of shame, or misplaced over-protectiveness, deliberately isolate us from others...
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Date: 2009-03-26 10:55 pm (UTC)I think one reason why the disabled community took so long, relatively speaking, to organize and advocate on its own behalf is that "Disability" is one of the few minorities where people are isolated within our own families
Yes, and the physical barriers to communication that prevented the formation of a critical mass of activists. The fact, for example, that the two largest communities of severely disabled people who had comparatively early access to mobility and social integration (through both circumstances and technology), the blind and deaf communities, literally could NOT easily communicate with each other inter-community (as opposed to intra-community) until comparatively recently.
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Date: 2009-03-27 06:55 am (UTC)A) They had the critical mass of numbers
B) They had a ready-made social connection through their military service
C) There was less stigma in making adaptations for "Wounded soldiers" than there was in making them for people who had things "wrong" with them.
And D) The generation of the Vietnam War already had experience in getting change through organizing...
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Date: 2009-03-27 12:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-27 07:17 pm (UTC)ASL (American Sign Language) is the third-most used language North America behind English and Spanish [/trivia]. ASL is very different in grammar and syntax, too, from Signed Exact English.
I learned SEE, and met d/Deaf kids when I spent four summers at a camp for the Handicapped, and took two semesters of Freshmen-level ASL when I was going for my Masters. I haven't actually used it with anyone for agess, and am really rusty. But it would probably come back to me, if needed. I can ask where the bathroom room is, and can count and fingerspell. :-)
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Date: 2009-03-27 07:38 pm (UTC)I think we've had this conversation before too. :-)
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Date: 2009-03-27 07:53 pm (UTC)Anyway, it's here for the record (and there are several new people on my f'list).
You know, if I keep making posts on this sort of topic, maybe it's time I came up with an icon for word and language geekery... :-)