Disability Porn

I have thought about this topic for a long time and could never quite find an analogy that stuck, until now.

You know those videos that show a deaf person "hearing" for the first time with a cochlear implant? Or the before and after of a paraplegic who miraculously learns to walk? The video of someone who is in medical debt finding out that they will get that prosthetic or treatment they couldn't afford because of some benefactor? You know what I'm talking about, and before you feel the shame rising- don't worry- I've watched them too and I've cried too.

But I always felt this nagging thought at the back of my mind, like something wasn't quite right. I think that I understood it best when I kept seeing people share the video about the cochlear implants. I found myself feeling bitter. I heard my thoughts scream: she can't hear perfectly now guys- she still has a shit ton of adjustments to go! I heard my mouth say: why the hell did she have to wait so long for treatment anyway? I found myself saying: it's not like she's had a shitty life thus far and everything is awesome now that she can hear slightly better. I realized that it really hit home the discomfort I felt when I knew the disability personally.

And that's when I came up with the idea of disability porn. Sexual porn is all about having access to all the pleasures without the work (or reward) of intimacy. Disability porn is the same. You get to have the pleasure of seeing gratification, happy moments, miracles, without any of the work, heartache, or understanding of the context it took for that person to be where they are. Just like porn, you feel good, you almost mistake the pleasure for a good deed and intimate knowledge of the subject. When you watch these videos and you cry, you actually think that you are contributing to the miracle. You feel good because you felt good watching something good happen.

Here's the problem, you haven't actually helped anyone. And you have no idea that you haven't.

Suzy Q with the cochlear implant? Her life was really lovely before she got it. She figured out how to be human without it. She probably even figured out how to be content and joyful without it. Or maybe she was miserable, but you don't know any of that. She likely didn't have access to the information or funding to get the implant until something magical happened like access to healthcare or marriage to someone with a health plan. Or maybe someone gave her the money. Or maybe she saved up. Or maybe she went into debt for it. After the implant? She has to relearn how to hear. That sound of the refrigerator running? It's going to make her want to tear her hair out until her brain finally learns to shove it in background noise mode. Also, she still can't hear perfectly. She won't ever hear perfectly, because that's how it works. But we don't know any of that story. We just see her visceral reaction to hearing a voice of a loved one like she's never heard it before. What we don't know is what her tears mean. Me? Every time I got a new set of hearing aids I was shocked at how terrible I thought my own voice sounded. It was loud and echoed brashly in my head. Her tears? Maybe she's sad that it's not what she thought it was going to be. Maybe she's happy because she has been waiting for this day for a long time and after many obstacles (maybe put in place by our refusal/ignorance to advocate for her) has finally gotten here. Maybe she's just overwhelmed by the sheer noise that is invading her brain. We have no idea because we don't know her. We don't know what she's been through, and we don't know what happens after.

That's why I feel uncomfortable. Because I glean a little pleasure by sneaking in to this sacred space and consuming her miracle. I don't have to do any of the work. I don't have to think about the consequences. I don't have to struggle. And I get to feel like I'm a good person.

That's disability porn.

I apologize that I may have ruined all your disability porn for you. Now you won't be able to watch a feel-good video about someone getting a miracle without the added frustration of wondering why it took so long, or why they needed it in the first place, or why we think that being deaf/blind/mobility impaired is so horrible to begin with. Actually- no- I'm not sorry- because these are the things we need to think about. We can't consume miracles. We can't get all the goods without the intimacy of the journey.

Why not? Because it isn't real. It isn't authentic, and it doesn't help.