Canadians with disabilities should be part of diversity discussion

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 10/10/2019 (2429 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

At the end of September, newly sworn-in NDP MLA Uzoma Asagwara (Union Station) boasted on Twitter about the diversity of the NDP caucus. Asagwara was right, of course — compared with Brian Pallister’s Progressive Conservatives, the NDP’s newly elected members have a younger and more diverse set of representatives, including Asagwara, who identifies as a gender non-binary person of colour.

When I pressed Asagwara on the number of persons who identify as disabled within that diverse NDP cabinet, the MLA promptly blocked me. I guess I went too far in asking exactly what diversity means to the NDP.

As someone who is disabled — in fact, doubly disabled — I am used to having to force those who normally are so open to embrace other options to the diversity issue. It’s frustrating that even in these progressive times, for the 6.2 million Canadians who identify as disabled, their differences aren’t viewed as part of that diversity picture.

Statistics Canada’s Survey on Disability, published in 2017, paints a bleak picture for those living with a disability. For the most part, they make less than those without disabilities. Working-age women with mild disabilities who are employed made 24 per cent less than their male counterparts and 13 per cent less than women without disabilities.

Statistics Canada also revealed: “Among working-age adults, personal income was strongly related to the severity of disability. Those with no disabilities had a higher median after-tax personal income ($39,000) than those with milder disabilities ($34,300) and those with more severe disabilities ($19,200).”

As a result of the lower income, 1.6 million Canadians with a disability cannot afford their required aids, prescriptions or mobility devices because of costs. Pharmacare may do a great deal for a lot of Canadians, but free hearing aids, wheelchairs, scooters, oxygen and other devices would go a long way to help those who are currently struggling to pay bills and live with a disability.

Another study by Statistics Canada suggests workplace accommodation for employees with disabilities is where the rubber really meets the road. In other words, when employees need assistance such as flexible work schedules or work-station modifications that may cost a company money, are their concerns met?

In this study, one in three disabled Canadians surveyed needed some form of workplace accommodation, and of those, almost 60 per cent were fully accommodated in their requests. But 21 per cent had none of their requests met. The study found further that: “The more workplace accommodations required, the less likely all needs were met. Of those who required only one accommodation, 75 per cent had their need met; however, this drops to 36 per cent when they required three or more.”

For disabled people, asking for accommodation may be fraught with danger, particularly in situations in which employment is already tenuous. It’s a double-edge sword. As American researchers Mairead Eastin Moloney, Robyn Lewis Brown, Gabriele Ciciurkaite and Susan Foley determined, stigma about disability may lead to non-disclosure. Ask for accommodation, and you risk not getting hired; don’t ask for accommodation, and you risk not being able to maintain the job.

That’s why my question to the Manitoba NDP was a simple one. Someone who has lived the experience of disability — who’s been told they aren’t a “good fit” for a job, or turned down for a rental unit, or had problems with employers — can understand and possibly provide policy that works.

But it’s not just the Manitoba NDP that seems to focus only on gender, sexuality and race to count for those tickey-boxes when talking about diversity issues in Canada. Other organizations seem to suffer from what I call diversity blindness as well, ignoring disability when talking about just how representative they are.

Prime Minister Justin Trudeau, when sworn in during those sunny days in 2015, pledged to promote a more diverse and representative government. He did this by appointing a gender-balanced cabinet and ensuring Indigenous people and persons of colour were also represented. Trudeau went even further — the government is responsible for more than 1,500 appointments, including chairs and members of boards, tribunals and Crown corporations, judges and senators. Through a new appointment process, Trudeau’s government increased the number of women, Indigenous persons and visible minorities substantially.

But how are disabled people doing in the Trudeau government’s appointment system? Well, we just don’t know. There’s no talk about recruiting disabled people in this iteration of diversity.

Failing to mention disability as an important part of the Canadian dynamic is to continue the stigma that being disabled is something we don’t want to talk about; that being disabled means being less than perfect; or that being disabled means being a drain on the system.

Asagwara did just that — silencing me by blocking me and my questions about it on Twitter. The recently elected MLA is new to politics and may grow a thicker skin after some time as NDP health critic, but Asagwara needs to be prepared to answer the question at some point: how well is Manitoba doing on the issue of disability representation?

Because disabled Manitobans like me are just as Canadian as Asagwara is.

And we are not going to be content to be quiet for very long.

Shannon Sampert is a retired political scientist and consultant.

s.sampert@uwinnipeg.ca

Twitter: @paulysigh