Please Don't Joke About My (Or Others') Disabilities

Today started like any other day. I got up, went grocery shopping, and then I logged on for my weekly Monday morning virtual crochet group put on by art therapists from a local hospital. While these crochet groups often feel quite relaxing, sometimes the conversation is taken too far.

One of the benefits of this virtual crochet group is that there is a private message feature. As I am a “client” of the art therapists in their other art therapy groups, I feel comfortable private messaging one of the art therapists if the conversation begins to make me feel uncomfortable or unsafe.

Today, when the conversation started to take more of a COVID and political turn, I messaged one of the art therapists for help. She tried to change the conversation by asking if anyone had any jokes, something that often perks me up and gets me back into engaging with the group.

At first, the jokes were lighthearted and in good taste. Then someone in the group who had more of an authority figure over me and who knows I have cerebral palsy, began to tell jokes about “what do you call the man with no arms and no legs who was in a pile of leaves/on a wall/in water/etc.” That made me uncomfortable to the point I messaged one of the lead art therapists. But I wasn’t prepared for what happened next.

The last joke this person told was, “What do you call the woman who had one leg shorter than the other? Eileen (I lean)! That made me lose it completely. I am the woman with one leg shorter than the other, and no, it isn’t even remotely funny. My name is Becca. I shut off my video and muted myself but stayed on the video call so I could message the art therapist and get some support.

While my emotional support cat sat on me for a while, which was enough to stop me from turning to self-harm in the moment because I felt he was too cute to disturb, when my cat left, I took the chance to self-harm only to be met with him crying outside the door of the room I went in. He did prevent me from harming myself more once I heard his cries and was brought back to reality.

Jokes about disabilities usually a) aren’t funny, and b) aren’t in good taste. The person today was mocking me in front of everyone else in the group. I doubt their comments were intentionally targeted at me, but they still hurt. The joke teller thought it was funny to make fun of “Eileen” when they already know my disability plays a huge role in my poor mental health.

When this joke was told, I was reminded of my legs being 1/2 inch different in length from each other and 1 full U.S. shoe size different. I was reminded of the extra $40 and run around to get a lift on my shoes so I walk more evenly. I was reminded of the long afternoons at the department stores trying to find shoes as a kid that would fit both my growing feet. I was reminded of the physical and emotional pain I’ve dealt with for the 28 years I’ve been on this planet. It was an uncomfortable and completely unnecessary reminder.

While some jokes about disabilities may be OK, most aren’t. I sometimes joke about my disability with my friends and other people I know well enough who are disabled to make some struggles lighthearted, but I don’t ever make disability jokes around people I don’t know well enough and know I won’t offend regardless of whether or not they themselves are disabled.

I sometimes joke about not being able to tell if something is level on a wall because I’m tilted when I stand. Leave those jokes to me to tell when I’m comfortable.

I will joke about the seven times I’ve had Botox in my leg and how I won’t have a wrinkly calf, hamstring, and back to worry about. Having others comment on how my body functions and looks isn’t OK with me.

Life as a disabled person can be hard, and jokes about disabilities from the wrong people can make things harder. Struggling with body image issues and depression surrounding my cerebral palsy and eating disorder is hard enough. I don’t need people using the physiology of my body to make jokes. My name is Becca, not Eileen.