Anna Quon is a freelance writer and mental health consumer living in Dartmouth, Nova Scotia. A former assistant to the editor of the now defunct Ability Network magazine and a frequent contributor to Abilities magazine, she has a strong interest in the stories that matter to people with disabilities.
On the issue of language and disability, I'm somewhat torn. Even though I'm a nut, I don't mind when people say the traffic is insane, or what crazy weather we're having. As a writer I'm a tad hesitant to cull words from my vocabulary because I think they might offend someone – though I'm sure I do it all the time, subconsciously or when it suits me. But as a person with a mental health disability, I know words can offend, hurt and oppress me. Words that other people use to describe me and others with similar disabilities have always been the bars of the cage that keep people with mental illness in the zoo of the popular imagination – we're something to gawk at, to marvel over, to be afraid of, and to make movies about, but thank God we're behind those bars, separate from the good zoo-going public. Take for example, the word "psycho." I can probably fault the movie of that name for making the use of this term a pet peeve of mine. But when people say someone is "psycho," do they mean "psychopathic" or "psychotic"? As likely as not, they don't have a clear idea of what they mean – they just want to disparage someone who is behaving in a way they don't like. Psycho's Norman Bates was psychotic – even though I've never seen the movie because I'm squeamish (and as something of a protest), I know he talked to the voice of his dead mother. He was experiencing, in a Hollywood sort of way, a break from reality. That's different from a psychopath, someone who lacks a conscience and an ability to relate empathetically to others. Forgive me, but I'd take a break from reality any day over being lumped with the likes of multiple murderer and rapist Paul Bernardo, who I think it's safe to say is a psychopath. Even a psychopath might be thought of as having a brain disorder – as some now call mental illnesses – because, I have heard, studies show their brains work differently than your average Joe. But when people use the word psycho, I think they should be clear what they are referring to. And maybe if they're clear about it, they won't use the term at all. It is, after all, a lot like the word "nigger." The "N" word is clearly disparaging and has a long and painful history. It's just a string of letters, just a couple of arbitrary syllables, but everyone knows it is a hateful word, coming out of the mouth of someone who is not black. Actually, I believe the proper term is African-Canadian. I have heard people who identify as African-Canadian call each other niggers, in a joking, playful way, sometimes with more profound and political overtones that indicate a reclaiming of that word. But that doesn't mean just anyone should feel free to use the word and expect no one to get upset. Language is after all, nothing except in a cultural context. And if that context is not based in mutual respect, then it's going to be hurtful to someone. If I call my friend the crazy artist a nut, I do so fondly, knowing she knows I'd say the same about myself. If someone else calls her a nut in a disparaging way, then watch out. Similarly, people with physical disabilities might call each other "gimps" and "crips" but they're not terms that able-bodied people (except maybe honorary crips) can use with impunity. It's all about calling people what they want to be called – and what they want to be called by you may not be the same as what they want to be called by someone else. If you think this is hard to figure out, just remember that to your kids you are Mom or Dad but to the neighbour's kids you're Mrs. or Mr. Someone, and to your friends you're something else again. Making these distinctions is something we do all the time. Respect is the key here, but there are certain rules of thumb to follow. Putting the person first is one. For example don't call me one of "the mentally ill." Call me "a person with a mental health disability." Don't call someone schizophrenic, or say they "suffer from" or are "afflicted by" schizophrenia. But do say they have a diagnosis of schizophrenia. Don't call me "handicapped" or "challenged" or surprise, surprise, "mental," "wacko" or "lunatic." I might just know where you live. Language evolves and sometimes we nuts and crips haven't always caught up to the language ourselves. Take the word "stigma." I still use it but it has been pointed out to me that "discrimination and prejudice" are better words to use when talking about the negative stereotyping attached to mental illness. The word "stigma" itself has become stigmatized. I recognize that it's not always easy to change the words we use, but the fact is that we are doing it all the time, latching on to the next new buzz word like "transparency," or the one my mum hates from a while back: "scenario." It's possible to use language in a way that does no harm and offers clarity and precision when it comes to disability. And why wouldn't we want that? |