Being disabled doesn’t make you special, being South African does

By Maggie Marx

In December 2005, I took my driver’s test in a small town in the Free State. I told the friendly, albeit mumbling officer that I was severely hearing impaired. I also told him that during the yard test I would be able to decipher his hand signals, but that when he got into the vehicle with me he’d better speak up — I would be able to hear him as long as he spoke clearly.

After a successful yard test, the officer got into the car and gestured for me to exit the parking lot. As soon as we were on the road, he frantically motioned for me to turn left. Approaching the first stop street the officer, with tummy puffed and shoulders pulled back, then bellowed at the very top of his lungs: “AT THE STOP STREET, TURN RIGHT!”

Now, I had a difficult and, I admit, a rather hilarious problem. Do I ask the officer to speak softer and risk him then speaking too softly? Or do I let him continue to holler? I decided on the latter — better safe than sorry. At the end of the test the poor man was out of breath and in desperate need of a glass of water.

Upon our return to the traffic department, I found my dad lying on the ground laughing. He later told me that he could hear us approaching from kilometres away. I passed the test and got my licence! Maybe I’m a good driver or maybe the poor officer was just scared of having to repeat the test.

This story, which many have found hilarious over years of retelling, also speaks to how South Africans react when confronted with people with disabilities. Many immediately get apologetic, while others try very hard to compensate. There are also those who make fun in a conscious or unconscious attempt to lessen their own discomfort. Very few people take the time to ask questions and familiarise themselves with you in order to correctly communicate with or treat you like the human being that you are.

All these reactions may be a global phenomenon but in South Africa, where there are still so many social and economic divisions, disability unfortunately becomes yet another cause for marginalisation. This while the government fails to make any meaningful effort towards dispelling the many myths about disability that still exist within most communities.

According to a White Paper assembled during Thabo Mbeki’s presidency, there is a serious lack of reliable information regarding “the nature and prevalence” of disability in South Africa. The now outdated Paper paints a grim picture of living with a disability in South Africa, and as far as I can tell, nothing has changed. The lack of information about people living with disabilities in South Africa is due to the national census’ failure to clearly define and survey people living with various disabilities. Unfortunately, the White Paper also recognises “traditional attitudes” towards people with disabilities as a significant cause of misinformation in South African society.

Ensuring that disability policies are included in all government departments and actively appointing and educating people with disabilities to become fully functional members of society are crucial starting points. The White Paper does suggest that a public awareness programme be launched to educate the public and help to dispel prejudices against people with disabilities. There are two lines suggesting that the self-representation of people with disabilities can and should be used as a tool within this programme, but I believe that this needs far more emphasis.

Crowning a Miss Deaf South Africa or selling Casual Day stickers annually does very little to break down deeply rooted prejudices and discomforts. The responsibility falls in large part on people with disabilities to break the barriers and deconstruct misconceptions about themselves. Expecting the government to effectively address a community’s prejudices against people with disabilities by vaguely addressing this issue during Disability Month does not do near enough to cultivate lasting societal understanding or support.

Disabled South Africans need to take responsibility for furthering this conversation. I realise that it’s not always easy. I also realise that not all disabilities are as manageable as mine. I do however believe that by showing your friends, colleagues, neighbours and family that you’re willing to meet them halfway, and teaching them how to treat you will go a long way. Showing them that you believe you are worthy will make them view you as worthy as well.
Being disabled doesn’t make you special, being South African does.

Originally published on ijr.org.za

Maggie Marx works as a sub-editor at Son newspaper. She is passionate about reconciliation between South Africans from all walks of life.