Introduction
(This is the first of a series of posts related to a reading group on Jay Dolmage’s Academic Ableism.)
(image description: a photograph of a set of stairs leading up to the wooden external doors of a Gothic building covered with ivy; the color of the photograph has been dampened so that it comes close to resembling a black and white image)
My reasons for helping set-up this reading group are threefold. First, some of my scholarly interests are issues in the philosophy of disability. One recurring them in my work is the importance of social structures for the flourishing of disabled people (well, for people in general; but this tends to play out differently for many disabled people given ableim in our culture). Second, I worry about the pressures on disabled faculty and staff at universities, which lead to both (i) the non-disclosure, and non-accommodation, of their disabilities, and (ii) the underrepresentation of disabled people in higher education. (According to one study, only 3.6% of tenure-track faculty in the US have a disability. Shelley Tremain has done a lot of work on what this looks like in philosophy; see this podcase episode for an overview.) Third, I recognize that despite a commitment to disability access and accommodation at my own university, many disabled students report a range of problems that they continue to face.
Dolmage traces the history of the relationship between asylums and universities. Both are exclusionary institutions, though in different ways. Asylums often function to lock disabled people up, while higher education tends to lock disabled people out of the opportunity to participate in the kind of education they offer. Both institutions function “in service of particular ideologies” (6). We can think of these two pressures as related, but inverse. Historically, these pressures are closely connected with eugenics andthe leveraging of disability to justify other forms of marginalization and social injustice.
Like other scholars of disability studies, Dolmage rejects overly medicalized, individualistic, and pathological understandings of disability in favor of a cultural or social model of disability. (This reading group is starting rights as one of my courses is beginning our discussion of Eli Clare‘s Brilliant Imperfection, which dovetails really nicely with Dolmage’s book in a number of ways.)
A key part of Dolmage’s book is that even when universities do legitimately care about access, sometimes other factors (such as aesthetics or ease or convenience) come to matter more. But all too often, universities are structured in ways that reinforce, both intentionally and unintentionally, disablism and ableism. It’s worthwhile to lay out exactly what he means by these two terms:
‘Disablism’ can be defined as “a set of assumptions (conscious or unconsiouse) and practices that promote the differential or unequal treatment of people because of actual or presumed disabilities” (Kumari Campbell, 4). Disabliam, in short, negatively constructs disability…. Ableism, on the other hand, instead of situating disability as bad and focusing on that stigma, positively values able-bodiedness. in fact, ableism makes able-bodiedness and able-mindedness compulsory.
(Academic Ableism, 6-7)
This use of the language, in my experience, reflects how the terms are more frequently used in the UK. In the US, it’s more common for ableism to be used in a way that captures both of these aspects. Here’s T.L. Lewis’s account of ableism that I draw on in some of my scholarship:
a system of assigning value on people’s bodies and minds based on societally constructed ideas of normalcy, productivity, desirability, intelligence, excellence, and fitness. These constructed ideas are deeply rooted in eugenics, anti-Blackness, misogyny, colonialism, imperialism, and capitalism…. You do not have to be disabled to experience ableism.
https://www.talilalewis.com/blog/working-definition-of-ableism-january-2022-update
The dominant rhetorical illustration Dolmage uses throughout to illustrate universities’ ableism is the steps and gate. While many, especially older or religious, univeresities are hard for disabled individuals to navigate because of physical features such as steps, Dolmage shows how “physical inaccessibility is always linked–not just metaphorically–to mental, intellectual, social, and other forms of inaccessibility” (9).
While disability is closely connected with the structure of the university and nearly all aspects of its curriculum, Dolmage, drawing on the work of David Bolt, notes much of that curriculum tends to engage with issues related to disability. (I’m grateful that Calvin not only allows me to teach a course on disability, but considered disability to be one of the forms of diversity and difference that our core curriculum aims to address.) Many of the stats that Dolmage covers are shocking:
- disabled US citizens are less than half as likely to have a bachelors degree than those who are non-disabled
- disabled students are significantly less likely to complete their degrees
- disabled individuals are twice as likely to only have a GED or other alternative high school credential
- disabled students are likely to have 60% more student dept upon graduating
- likely about 2/3 of all disabled college/university students receive no disability accommodations
Dolmage ends the introduction anticipating a response to the book that he alls the ‘ableist apologia’:
a genre or category of statements and sentiments that distance the speaker from responsibility for the selective, stratifying forces within higher education, selecting and stratifying functions that depend upon ableism and disablism to make sure that privilege is portioned out only along traditional lines
(Academic Ableism, 35)
Unfortunately, I know faculty, staff, and students who are hesitant to disclose their disability status because of these forces. My co-leader of this reading group has recently revealed their own nuerodivergence at our university. I’ve seen too often that some of my disabled students encounter the ableist apologia, and that many of the structures and patterns of interaction we have here at Calvin reproduce both ableism and disablism. It is my hope that this reading group, and further conversations and efforts that grow out of it, might lead to change. But I don’t think that my current university is distinct in having these problems. In fact, in a number of ways I think it’s actually less problematic than other universities I’ve worked at. I think Dolmage is right that these phenomena are widespread, and I hope that this resource that comes out of our reading group might be useful to others at other universities as well.
In addition to Dolmage’s book, this is a nice pair of books that looks at ableism in academia, the former a collection of first-hand experiences and the second a theoretical account of those with disabilities and chronic education in higher education. While Dolmage’s book is my favorite on the subject, these others are worth reading as well.