‘Do you think he’s had enough?” you scoffed at your friend as my brother, a single pint down, made his long and laborious journey to the toilet. “Fucking Gollum!”

Judging by the speed at which you became silent when my friend asked you to repeat yourself, you knew that the awkward staggering limp and the jarring, slurred speech had nothing to do with alcohol intake.

His condition, not that you cared to ask (it’s quite rare that anyone does), is cerebral palsy. It is the result of his brain being starved of oxygen while developing in the womb. Consequently, his motor skills are not as finely tuned as the average person – walking and talking, especially, are everyday struggles. He has endured several major operations and countless hours of physiotherapy.

As a family, we have had to put up with the sheer ignorance of people like you for a long time. However, your open, ranting approach to firing insults – while it almost earned you a black eye, courtesy of my friend – is one I prefer. It’s easy to call people out when they are so arrogantly loud. Often a simple “Excuse me?” is enough to make the blood rush to their cheeks and their mouth to stay firmly shut. It is an approach I prefer.

This is how ignorance breeds, through jokes that aren’t funny, with disability as the punchline

The kind of person who really gets under my skin is usually more vocal when there’s a wheelchair. The slight bend in their knees, the slow lean forwards, the condescending tone (oh, God, the condescending tone!) and their ability to address the pusher of the chair as if my brother can’t hear or comprehend the words coming from their mouth – probably something about how bloody brave he is. These people are harder to shame for their complete disrespect, and that is normally because they are so sure they are behaving appropriately. So thank you, I suppose, for being a garish idiot instead of a patronising one. Anyway, I digress. This is about what you did do, not what you didn’t.

I often wonder, when derogatory terms towards disabled people are thrown around so flippantly, if people mean to be hurtful or if they are simply reacting to something different. People react in all sorts of ways when faced with something even slightly out of the ordinary – complete avoidance, a desire to run and hide, silent confusion – but they all react. You were just reacting to my brother.

Given the pub setting, I expect your comments were made in jest. Nothing more than a cheap laugh to lubricate your stale conversation and help maintain your reputation as a lad with copious amounts of banter, ready for deployment at any moment. But this is how ignorance breeds, through jokes that aren’t funny, with disability as the punchline. Eventually, you become desensitised to the offence you are causing, but go on causing it.

There is only one thing, beneath the trivial and aesthetic differences, that separates my brother from any able-bodied person. He is – after years and years of having people stare, point, laugh, make comments, etc – far more resilient than any other person I’ve met. His tolerance for putting up with the prejudices and ignorance of others is much higher than mine.

I wouldn’t be surprised if he heard you that night, called you an even more offensive name under his breath, and carried on. He has had enough, of people like you. My precious brother.

Anonymous

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