The Illusion of Disability Hierarchy

September Community Blog

There’s no definition of “disability hierarchy,” and I think that’s on purpose. It is a construct, a trick to keep people with disabilities fighting endlessly over the same limited resources. It makes one disabled person seem “better” or “worse” than another. This artificial division only hurts us all, preventing us from focusing on the genuine problems we face.

Everyone has things they’re good at and things they’re not so good at. That’s just how people are. When someone has a disability, these strengths and weaknesses often just show up more clearly. My life is a perfect example. I need a lot of help with physical activities every day–like bathing and getting dressed. Many people might see this as a big weakness, a sign that I can’t do things on my own. I was once told that,

“Your life is simple because people do everything for you.”

My experiences have taught me something important. What seems like a weakness can hide enormous strength. At habitation programs I’ve been to, I’ve met many people who could move around much better than I. They can go to the bathroom by themselves and perform many daily tasks that I can’t. But many of these same people looked to me to speak for them. They couldn’t talk to explain what they needed or wanted. In those moments, my “weakness” became their strength. My ability to speak up, to ask for respect, and to fight for what’s right became an important asset for them.

Isaiah 45:9 NIV  “Woe to those who quarrel with their Maker, those who are nothing but potsherds among the potsherds on the ground. Does the clay say to the potter, ‘What are you making?’ Does your work say, ‘The potter has no hands’?

This shows why the idea of a disability hierarchy is harmful. It makes us look at easy-to-see differences and judge who is “more disabled” or “less able.” But being able to do things isn’t just one simple thing. It’s a mix of physical skills, thinking skills, feelings, and how we talk to each other. Someone who needs a lot of physical help might be incredibly smart or have a spirit that inspires everyone. Someone who can’t speak might show so much through their eyes or actions.

My journey, from needing total physical care to becoming a forceful advocate who speaks at big events and has a popular podcast, shows how strengths and weaknesses work together. My physical “weakness” has actually made my mind sharper and made me want to fight even harder for others. It has given me a way to understand and speak up for those who might not be heard.

To move forward, we need to get rid of this harmful idea of a hierarchy. Instead of comparing needs or ranking disabilities, we must see the true worth and special talents of every person in the disability community. We need to understand that real strength comes from working together, from making each other’s voices louder, and from supporting all the different ways we give and get help. Only then can we truly unite to demand the resources and respect we all deserve. We won’t be broken groups fighting over scraps, but a strong, united force for change. This September, let’s promise to see all the different strengths in our community and say no to anything that tries to divide us.

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September 15, 2025

Advocacy day 1 Podcast

My Start in Advocacy

Greetings, my friends, and welcome. In this world, it’s not always easy to understand the path you’re meant to follow. For a long time, I was lost. When I was 18, I was very disappointed in myself and in the world because I could not go to college. At that time, it was not in the cards, and I was very angry. I had basically given up and accepted the fact that I was worthless and I couldn’t do anything.

That all changed because one person didn’t give up on me. My school had a transition coordinator who always had my best interest at heart, even though I was, without a doubt, the most difficult client she ever had. She gave me this application for a course called

Partners in Policymaking, which she described as a disability learning think tank. I filled it out very, very, very basically—I wrote a bunch of crap because I didn’t believe in myself. But she saw my potential. She made me do better, telling me I could do a better job and made me write an essay on top of it.

Months later, I got a call from the program director, who said she was very impressed with my words. I had no idea what I had said, even to this day. When I finally went to the first session, I purposely sat in the back because I didn’t feel like I belonged. Where I grew up, I was one of the only kids with a physical disability, and I had no concept of the disability community, or of inclusion.

But as I listened to the stories of the other families and people in that room, I realized something. I’m not alone. There’s a whole community out there for you. I learned more from listening to their stories and successes than I did from the actual course. It was the first time as an adult I had ever been left alone as a person. I had never even slept in a room by myself before. That experience taught me that I wasn’t helpless, that I had resources, and that I could manage a situation on my own.

One course, one day, one person changed my life. What was that one course, that one day, or that one person for you? Let me know in the comments below! Full podcast episode is below as well.

episode transcript