CENTER SECTION: CATHOLICS WITH DISABILITIES
Attitudes–The Final Frontier

by Karen Murray  |  Summer 2009

"What's wrong with you?" the topic of conversation at snack time during my first grade CCD class had quickly turned to me, and the “interrogation” had only just begun. "Why do you walk funny?” “Why do you have to wear those things on your legs?” “Why did God make you that way?" My classmates' questions both surprised and confused me. I remember it as though it were yesterday. I remember just as clearly that I had no idea how to answer them.

An Awakening

Though I was born with a rare neurological condition, I never really thought much about my disability when I was a child—except when others pointed it out to me. My parents never treated me any differently from my nondisabled sisters and brother and always taught me that I was loved and cherished by God—just the way I was. I always knew that I was “different” (frequent trips to the doctor and physical therapy appointments, "special" shoes and braces on my legs assured me of that), but I learned from others—often strangers—that this “difference" was often thought of as something very negative.

As I grew older I started thinking about disability a lot more—usually when architectural barriers prevented me from participating in some activity or another with my friends, or happily, when children would approach me intent on understanding or interacting. I thought about it most often, though, when someone would tell me how sorry they were that such a tragedy had befallen me, or conversely, how special, inspiring, and blessed I was by God to “carry such a heavy cross.” I knew, for the most part, that people meant no harm or disrespect in their comments and questions, but their words could wound and sting just the same.

The Largest Minority

Persons with disabilities constitute our nation's largest minority group. Fifty-three million Americans of all ages, religions, cultures, socioeconomic levels, and ethnicities are represented, according to the most recent information available from the U.S. Census Bureau. That is one person in five, or 20 percent of the population. People with disabilities is the only minority group that anyone can join at any time whether through birth, accident, illness, or the natural results of the aging process. A U.S. Harris poll found that as many as one family in three in the United States is touched by the experience of disability.

My experience is not unique among persons with disabilities, especially those who were born with "functional limitations" or acquired them early in life. Any pain or difficulties I experienced seemed a part of life, not a “problem” of disability. I was “okay” with my disability. It seemed no less a part of who I was than my “Irish-ness,” my “girl-ness,” my “Catholic-ness.” The only “burden” I felt it caused came when I struggled to understand the reasons for my sometimes inaccessible surroundings or the often negative and hurtful attitudes that many felt so compelled to share with me.

A Partial “Victory”

The passage of various state and federal legislation, most notably the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) of 1990, has resulted in a much greater awareness of disabilities and of the barriers that prevent many persons with them from participating fully in American society. Enormous advancements in architectural and program access have been made. Still, it is clear that not all the problems of accessibility and inclusion were solved with the passing of the ADA. Many persons with disabilities still remain outside the economic and social mainstream of American society, unable to gain access to even basic community services. Despite the legal requirements for accessibility, persons with disabilities still encounter resistance—even a backlash—to compliance on new construction and alteration projects.

The church has also made important strides in becoming a more accessible and welcoming community, most notably with the release of the 1978 Pastoral Statement of U.S. Catholic Bishops on Persons with Disabilities and the establishment of the National Catholic Partnership on Disability (NCPD), but it lags far behind civil society in the success of its efforts. To be sure, the consequence of significant financial penalties for noncompliance greatly influenced the success of civil efforts to eliminate discriminatory practices. Churches and religious organizations were "freed” from the fear and pressure of these penalties due to their exemption from compliance with the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) in these circumstances. Legitimate financial constraints have also had an impact on the church's opportunities to become more architecturally accessible. Still, when our supermarkets, subways, and shopping malls are more welcoming and accessible than our faith communities, it should give us pause. Access and inclusion belong to the very essence of things: they are constitutive to the very mission of the church. An accessible and welcoming church is not about the ADA. It is about the gospel.

What is it, then, that keeps us from finding solutions to the costly remedies of design and construction barriers? Why haven’t we made it a priority? Why are we content to “not have any persons with disabilities in our parishes" even when there are no architectural barriers? What is it that continues to thwart our goals for equal access and meaningful participation for all?

Defining Disability: Roots of the Problem

Historically, the experience of disability has been defined by persons without disabilities. It has been described in terms of “defect” and “limit,” "lack," "tragedy," even an "evil,” or “punishment from God.” Negative attitudes and stereotypes about disability are deeply entrenched in our culture and history, affecting and influencing our language, attitudes, and consequently our actions. They predate the Judeo-Christian tradition and will not be overcome simply through the passing of laws. We cannot legislate or mandate a change of heart. Whether born of fear, ignorance, indifference, or misunderstanding, these attitudinal barriers result— however unintentionally—in devaluing the lives and gifts of persons with disabilities. They are at the root of the ongoing exclusion and marginalization of persons with disabilities in the church and society. In recognition of this fact, the U.S. bishops ask in their Pastoral Statement:

We call upon persons of good will to reexamine their attitudes toward their brothers and sisters with disabilities and promote their well-being, acting with the sense of justice and the compassion that the Lord so clearly desires. Further, realizing the unique gifts individuals with disabilities have to offer the Church, we wish to address the need for their integration into the Christian community and their fuller participation in its life (par.1).

The relationship between the Christian community and persons with disabilities is long and complex. Undeniably, the church has a long legacy of charitable giving and support of persons with disabilities and at times demonstrated great generosity and care and concern for their well-being, and the benefits of such cannot be taken for granted. The difficulty lies in the fact that its primary mode of response has been out of charitable giving, which led, unintentionally, to practices that segregated persons with disabilities and viewed them as object of pity instead of theological subjects worthy of justice.

Attitude Adjustments

Today's definitions of disability no longer locate the "problem of disability" within the individual, but instead in the architectural and attitudinal barriers that exclude persons with disabilities from participation and acceptance in society.

Disability is now more often understood as a normal and expected part of living that should be planned for. The National Catholic Partnership on Disability (NCPD) offers the following definition: “Disabilities are the normal, anticipated outcomes of the risks, stresses, and strains of the living process.”

Insights from others, like the World Health Organization, define disability as a contextual variable, dynamic over time and in relation to circumstances. One is more or less disabled based on the interaction between the person and his or her individual, institutional and social environments. In any case, these definitions move away from beliefs that will encourage negative attitudes and stereotypes about disability resulting in exclusion, marginalization, and segregation. This is the key to dismantling the harmful, even dangerous, disabling philosophies and theologies of the past. It is the seed “fallen on rich soil, and producing fruit a hundred or sixty or thirty fold.”

When someone with a disability leaves the church because of harmful and destructive attitudes toward disability, it is a tragedy and a loss for the entire community. The tragedy is compounded when whole families depart because of these barriers to welcoming and participation. Persons with disabilities do not live in a vacuum, and the hurt experienced in these moments can be lasting and felt by the entire family.

In their pastoral statement, the U.S. bishops remind us that “there can be no separate church for persons with disabilities. We are one flock…” (p.33 ). The powerful and profound demonstration of this truth is found in the structure-shaking attitudes and behavior of Jesus Christ throughout the four gospels. Even a cursory reading of the New Testament will reveal a prominent place of persons with disabilities in the life and ministry of Jesus and his deep care and concern for them. When we re-examine the radically inclusive nature of his ministry, we find a “new” way of looking at disability that has enormous consequences for every aspect of life. It means the difference between the full participation of persons with disabilities in all aspects of society and the world and the perpetualization of inaccessibility and exclusion.

Karen Murray, M.Div., is director of the Office for Persons with Disabilities in the Archdiocese of Boston and a member of the Board of Directors of the National Catholic Partnership on Disability.