Wednesday, July 07, 2010

Editing Out Oppression: Disability and Narrative

Just two weeks after we discussed oppressive narratives in the context of editing and writing, Lisa Coriale writes in the Tyee about some of the narrative boxes into which she has been unwillingly stuffed:

The way people with disabilities are covered is problematic because it suggests attention is merited only when a person with disabilities can be portrayed as a superhero or a victim.

Don't feel sorry for me

For example, I was labeled a superhero. In an article that appeared in Kamloops This Week in May 2007, shortly before my graduation from Thompson Rivers University's social-work program, the reporter portrayed me as "a climber of a Mayan temple." He said I had been climbing pyramids since the day I was born.

... My portrayal in the story made me feel everyone was placing expectations on me and I had to accomplish them. I could have inspired other people or I could have made them feel they were not capable of accomplishing the same. (On the other hand, sometimes I feel as though I have climbed many mountains, so it is a bit of a contradiction.)

At other points in my life, such as when I was featured in an article in the Elliot Lake Standard, I have been portrayed with pity as well as having superhero status: "Though bound to a wheelchair, unable to move her limbs, her voice silenced by a severe form of cerebral palsy."

When I see myself portrayed this way, I feel uncomfortable because I do not want people to feel sorry for me. I do not feel mentioning my disabilities was necessary. By stating I was wheelchair-bound, the reporter made it sound as though I'm not able to participate in daily activities.


This kind of stereotyping is no mere question of word choice. It's true that words and phrases such as wheelchair-bound and silenced certainly perpetuate the stereotype of Coriale as a victim, who is lacking in agency and ability. Simply changing those terms for more active ones (maybe re-casting the quoted sentence as "Though, owing to her cerebral palsy, she uses a wheelchair and [whatever assistive technology she may use to communicate], ... ") wouldn't repair the conceptual problems with representing a thinking person who has a list of accomplishments and (presumably) setbacks; has ideas, hopes, and dreams; has an identity that may encompass her disability but is unlikely to be defined solely by that (any more than, say, my identity is defined solely by my left-handedness or inability to do higher mathematics). Start thinking of people as, you know, people, and it becomes far more difficult to reduce them to clichés.

Coriale gives some really solid advice, both at the word-and-phrase level and at substantive story-level:

  • Use active language that puts the disabled person in control of what they do. Use person-first language (person with a disability/with cerebral palsy/with muscular dystrophy/etc.). Make the condition something the person has or lives with rather than the sum of their existence. Replace verbs that indicate passivity (not always passive verbs) with those that indicate action and agency—a person may use a wheelchair, rather than being confined to it, for example.
  • Mention disability and medical details only when they're relevant. This is a big one for me: think about which story you are telling and why you are telling it. Are you discussing barriers to participation for Deaf people in political discourse? Then, yes, it might be relevant that the activist you quote is Deaf. Are you telling a story about quilting? It may not be relevant that a champion quilter uses a wheelchair. As for medical details, dude, those are personal. There are times it makes sense to mention them, but they shouldn't be gratuitous fodder for pity.
  • Get it right. I did not know this, but apparently many journalists don't bother to check in with the person they're talking about when they mention a person's disability. So they misrepresent. Which is just not very respectful. People are individuals, not medical statistics. Just because Google tells you that autistic people have trouble making friends, you can't say that the autistic person you are profiling is friendless or even that they have trouble making friends. It may not be true.
Needless to say, I'm adding Coriale's article to my required reading list for students.

Sunday, April 25, 2010

Witch Editing Skool

Because it's come up a few times in comments to Becoming an Editor and in conversation, I'm putting this disclaimer in a separate post.

The question in question is some variant on "Should I go to Ryerson or George Brown?"*

The answer is "I don't know."

The Certificate in Publishing is offered through Continuing Studies at Ryerson University. It's a comprehensive look at publishing in Canada, with a discernable bias towards trade- and scholarly book publishing. I took several courses there, and I know several of the instructors—they're all professionals I hold in high esteem.

The Certificate in Editing at George Brown College offered through the Continuing Education at George Brown, and focuses on as many different fields and media as the instructors can manage. It is less book-focused, and does not offer courses in publishing per se. I am one of the instructors there, at the moment (full disclosure!), and I have nothing ill to say of my colleagues.

Because I really do respect and esteem people who teach in both programs, I'm not going to say much more about either of them.

In Toronto, Centennial College and Humber College also offer programs in publishing. I know editors who have attended Centennial and the only reason I don't often recommend the Centennial program is that it is a full-time program, and most of the people I meet are not in a position to attend school full-time. I don't know anyone who has attended Humber, so I really can't say much about the program there at all.

Which program is right for you depends on your goals, timeline, budget, circumstances, and personality. I suggest you take the time to compare the calendars and attend the information sessions for each program, talk with instructors about the program of study, and make your own decision. Do bear in mind that there is no one single path to a career in the field, and that there is no clear path from wherever you are now to the career you want. Keep taking steps to get yourself closer to whatever your goal is, keep improving your skills, keep learning about the industry, and accept that certain paths are narrower and rockier than others.




*If you're not living in Toronto, then you can't take editing at George Brown College, and I have even less experience of editing courses and programs offered outside of Toronto.