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One of the earliest known statements on inclusive awareness of disabilities comes from the Old Testament: ‘Thou shalt not curse the deaf, nor put a stumbling block before the blind, nor maketh the blind to wander out of the path.’ (Leviticus 19:14) Unlike other statements plucked from the Bible, this one is quite straightforward and to the point: be a decent human and treat others with respect and dignity.
Yet in modern times it seems that we need to constantly remind ourselves of such simple acts of civility. What might it say about our society when we need to make a conscious and concerted effort to be inclusive of others? Isn't it a bit odd that we have such a difficult time implementing such a simple concept?
Inclusion Dilution
The movement to include has ramped up significantly in recent years due to the growing acceptance of human diversity. Yet let us be clear, there is a percentage of these efforts that are not fully sincere, for the social accountability our society has come to expect from our schools, workplaces, etc. has increased rampantly as of late, leading to the creation of makeshift inclusive practices simply for the sake of having them, even when they have not gone through the necessary stages of research and development. As such, there are times when I feel as if society is attempting to include me just to use me as a prop to demonstrate inclusive efforts.
All of this has, of course, led to the word "inclusion" skyrocketing, unfortunately leading to it becoming somewhat of a trend, and subsequently, has lost some of its inherent meaning. It has become a hollow and porous word; a form of simulacrum diluted by the overuse of it, for it is said far more often than it is experienced. Similar to that odd experience when you repeat a word over and over again until it loses its meaning (called semantic satiation), a certain unconscious desensitization occurs when we over-utilize words, and so it is with inclusion.
While the effort of creating inclusive environments is admirable, we must take time to reflect upon these initiatives and analyze their efficiency. One in 4 Americans has a disability, yet the unemployment rate of these individuals is nearly double that of those without disabilities, while children with disabilities are 10 times more likely to not attend school than their non-disabled peers (Bureau of Labor; WHO & World Bank).
These abhorrent statistics have contributed to the urgency behind inclusive practices, and rightfully so. However, there is a stark contrast between prioritizing inclusion in and of itself, and simply giving precedence to the word. Personally, there have been many times throughout my life where I have been the subject of these makeshift "inclusive" practices. Yet, once I was placed in the "inclusive" setting (i.e. being physically included amongst my peers), I was left to my own devices, feeling emotionally excluded and demoralized at the lack of sincerity and support. There is the old adage of "sticking out like a sore thumb", and this is how I felt, for even though the thumb may be a part of the hand, being a part of something does not always equate to inclusivity.
Knowing vs. Feeling
It can be far worse to be "included" yet not feel included than to simply not be included at all. We oftentimes think we are including others, but how often do we ask these individuals if they feel like they belong, or if they even want to be included in the first place? Perhaps the environment is too overwhelming or the individual has no interest in taking part.
Those with disabilities know what they want and need, yet ironically we tend to have very little say when it comes to being assisted in our cultivation of self-determination. There have been countless times when I indeed wanted to be included, but I knew deep down that I simply was not ready to be included; I needed to get my feet wet in the shallow end of the pool of inclusivity, yet far too often was I thrown into the deep end to either sink or swim. Spoiler alert: I wasn’t able to swim.
So I might know that I am being included in the literal sense, but I may not feel like I am. When we zero in on inclusion and lose sight of the context surrounding the situation and environment, we forget that it all comes down to individualized and accommodative services. When we genuinely focus on the individual's needs, we realize that inclusion tends to occur naturally, and is not something we can always directly implement successfully. I do not wish to simply be in the community, my desire is to be actually of the community.
It is high time that we re-humanize inclusion, for it is an abstract concept whose meaning is relative. What is inclusive for you might not be what's inclusive for me. There's a paradox when an individual’s needs for inclusion inhibit another individual's needs for inclusion (e.g. accepting a student's need to stim, yet this stimming is overstimulating another student). These puzzling situations lead to the term "fully inclusive" becoming a misnomer. I liken our efforts of inclusion to the pursuit of happiness. We may attain it here and there, but it is fleeting and certainly not constant. It is not a tangible achievement, but rather an ideology that needs pursuing.
The Object of Inclusion
I often ponder why it is that the marginalized are always the ones who are the subjects to be included. Why can't I include you in my world? Why is it that the disabled guy is the one society rushes to superficially include? To be perfectly blunt, half the time these efforts, however well-intentioned, feel like nothing more than a pity invite.
How would you feel if you were pressured to attend a party that you had no interest in? Would you feel included? Would you feel seen and heard? Validated and appreciated? These are the questions we must always keep in the forefront of our minds when practicing this delicate societal art.
We tend to forget that inclusion is a verb, and as such it has to be constantly practiced. Did Michael Jordan stop practicing basketball when he was the best player in the world? Of course not, for we can always become better. We can't dust off our hands and state that an environment is fully inclusive. It doesn't work like that; it needs to be constantly nourished and nurtured.
So in the end, include me not just because you want to, but also make sure I want to be included as well. Simply ask me, for no matter how noble our efforts might be to make this world more inclusive, equitable, and accessible, if we give little say to those we are trying to assist, our endeavors of inclusion can quickly result in exclusion.
References
Bureau of Labor
WHO & World Bank
