Just talked to my dad about plans for my birthday and it was so weird and awkward. I mean, I understand intellectually that having a daughter about to be 42(and sadly feeling pretty far from the Answer To Everything) might make him feel old, but by current standards both my parents could have been on "Teen Mom '73" practically. So we chatted and I'm thinking "Kerry probably has hostage negotiations warmer than this." And it was kind of a close shave(people are always surprised on those rare occasions that I do say "I almost died," that I can say it non-emotionally, but I don't feel that like my mom does...people I trust have told me that, there is clearly lasting damage, and, yes, when I was a snotty fourteen year-old I used it to win an argument or two, but it doesn't mean what people might think.) However, I do think it means I ought to be spared my dad's "Dust in The Wind" thing. @@ Also, he should know both our birthdates, but that's all tl:dr

I've seen a couple of disability discussions spiral into arguments between person-first and identity-first language, and I was just feeling like, "Really? This is what we're spending time on?"

The horse therapy program I work with teaches new volunteers to use people-first language. Should I tell them to use something different?

For the most part, people-first language is preferred. Many autistic adults prefer identity-first language, though. In general, it's usually a safe bet to use people-first to begin with, but respect it if someone asks for something else. (I know some other people with disabilities prefer identity-first language, but I've seen it most often among autistic people -- that saying "person with autism" makes it seem like the autism is something entirely separate from the person, while "autistic person" makes it an integral part of their identity.)

I think it's better. I mean, you guys are my friends, so I don't really expect you to be as scrupulous on it as an HR department But just like everything else, some people can't change. Yeah, Hil, so second that emotion...it might be different if we didn't have a 75% unemployment rate, were represented in art and science and so on.(Which reminds me how much I want to forcibly retire "It's attitudes that are the *REAL* barriers."Ugh, Hulk smash. Barriers are still the real barriers with attitudes being reinforced every time we don't show up. But in every discussion somebody always reacts as if their minds are just BLOWN and it crosses my mind to ask if they've really been in a coma since 1984 when that was a new thought. Of course, my luck would be that they have, and that was a terribly insensitive way to bring up their diagnosis.

For me, the difference between "disabled person" and person with a disability is actually pretty negligible, at least compared to describing me as "suffering with CP" or "wracked with muscle contractions" Sometimes we go on about so much it feels like we really want to know how many licks to the center of a tootsie pop.

For me, the difference between "disabled person" and person with a disability is actually pretty negligible, at least compared to describing me as "suffering with CP" or "wracked with muscle contractions" Sometimes we go on about so much it feels like we really want to know how many licks to the center of a tootsie pop.

For me too. Much less important than people staring or making rude comments.

And who are those fucking people who "here, here," or is it "hear, hear" "Attitudes are the real..." and can I apply to be in a different subculture from them, please? They usually love emojis so they are wicked easy to spot.If my crowd were bigger, I'd make a buzzfeed quiz:Novice Writer or Novice Cripple?(Either way, too much hugging and learning...do not like.)

I've also heard an argument for "disabled person" to emphasize the social model of disability -- that the person has been made disabled by society not being accessible. I kind of think that one will go over the heads of way too many people, though -- it's not like hearing "disabled person" will make people stop and think about that, since it's a phrase that's used pretty often without that meaning.

Laura, that's just heartbreaking.