From one Campaigner to Another: a Letter to Young Disabled Activists

I have been a self-advocate since I can remember. “Please can you read to me?” “Can I have a braille copy?” The act of being disabled, of requesting adaptations that allow me to participate fully in society taught me how to advocate for myself and for others. From the moment I realised I would live a different life to other people I became my own advocate.

I am blind. By nature, I access and interact with the world differently. I have learnt to read, identify objects and take care of myself by touch. I filter the information I hear to create an understanding of my surroundings, much like sighted people do with their vision. My life is different, not less.

It is that difference, that learnt advocacy that lead me to become a young campaigner and activist. I realised that the barriers I, and other disabled people faced were not being removed quickly enough. Quite simply, disability was rarely on the agenda. I had to try and change that.

I can’t explain this need. It is a thing that lives within me, that drives me forward. I cannot settle until I know that I’ve done all I possibly could to change things for the better. Sometimes that has led me into trouble. I am known by some as a person who fights for good, and by others as someone who should sit down and be quiet, because haven’t I said enough? I am far enough along my journey to brush off most of the hurtful comments, though reaching this point has taken time.

I have had to learn that there will be people who disagree with me. I will, with time and perseverance be able to change some of their minds, but others I will never be able to move. There are people who would like me to stay quiet, who would like all disabled campaigners to stay quiet. They think we create chaos, that we are causing trouble for nothing. But we aren’t. We are fighting the systemic barriers that prevent us from fully participating in society, and sometimes that means creating some noise. Learning these things has at times been difficult, not to mention frustrating. I didn’t start with this knowledge, in fact, when I first began to campaign and engage in public advocacy I had no idea what I was doing.

At first, my steps were shaky. I knew nothing about campaigning; I didn’t even know that as an individual I could lead a campaign. I thought those kinds of things were reserved for organisations with a large following, not for people like me. I was one girl; how could I possibly change anything? I wrote my first blog post when I was seventeen, and I had no idea at that time how far my words would take me.

I started to speak out about organisations and especially charities that I thought were problematic. About how disabled people are often portrayed in a negative light in the media and why I believed this hurt us. I was surprised to see that people were listening to what I had to say, that often I wasn’t the only one who thought things needed to change. The first time a stranger reached out to me, thanking me for drawing attention to the issues disabled people were facing I knew I was doing the right thing. If my words had resonated with just one person who had previously felt like they couldn’t speak out, that was enough.

Finding likeminded people has been essential for me. When I feel like I have gone too far, or not done enough, I can reach out to these groups. We listen to one another and offer advice when it is needed. It can be lonely to highlight issues that others do not want to recognise. Knowing that there are people who understand why you must do this is so important. We are individuals. We are not designed to carry a movement alone.

I have chosen to dedicate my life to changing the ways in which disabled people access society. Sometimes this involves requesting that my university ensure their online systems are accessible. On other occasions I must fight against changes that the government is making. The steps I take as a campaigner are not always big. Sometimes it is the smallest steps; the quiet actions we take that change the world. Sometimes I approach a situation with anger, anger at the injustice my community experiences. Other times I sit at the negotiation table, laying out plans for policies that will improve our lives. There isn’t one answer in the fight for equality.

Being a campaigner can be tough. You will find people that disagree with you and others who can’t even bring themselves to care. In different ways, both groups are hard to deal with. The former because they will actively fight you every step of the way, and the latter because their actions tell you that your ability to participate means nothing to them.

As a campaigner you will learn how to deal with these kinds of people, especially when you are put on the spot. I have participated in countless interviews where I expected to be supported, only to find that the interviewer opposed my aims. The first time it was awful and terrifying, the second upsetting, the third, and fourth, and fifth I reminded myself why what I was doing was so important, took a breath and resolved to fight. Developing these skills takes time and practise, the more you do it, the less terrifying it will be. Remember that what you believe in does matter, and you have the power to change the minds of those who do not believe in you. Being given this platform, even when you are facing your critics is another way in which you can spread your message and work towards positive change.

These people aren’t the end of the story. You will also find those, with and without disabilities, who share your vision. They see that there is a need for change, and with their support, you can find the strength to fight for it.

Remember these people on the days it seems like you will never be heard. Remember those of us who are working towards the same future you are. And most of all don’t lose hope, don’t give up, if you look around there are always people who will stand by you.