Little Person, Big World

Interview with a Writer who is a little person

Can you share any personal experiences where you felt discriminated against based on your disability? In everyday life, I hardly ever experience discrimination based on being a little person. I can’t help but be aware, however, of troubling societal attitudes towards people with achondroplasia, and all those with disabilities. The abled population often unconsciously sees us as less than. They don’t intentionally look down on us. They just see us as inhabiting a different universe and not having the same kinds of thoughts, feelings; facing the same struggles as they do. Nothing could be further from the truth. What forms of discrimination have you encountered due to your disability (e.g., accessibility barriers, exclusion, bias in employment)? When I was growing up, coming into my own and deciding what I wanted to do, career-wise, being a little person negatively impacted my aspirations and basically dashed my dreams. This may sound dramatic, but I don’t think it is. As an adolescent, I discovered I loved acting, and then decided not to ‘go into it’ because I knew I would probably never be cast in any role I’d feel comfortable playing. I ended up becoming a writer instead, which is probably a better fit for me since I love to find ways to turn what I see and how I see it into stories people can relate to. As a published author, I’m happy to say I’ve experienced little or no discrimination in the employment sector. Still, I know that’s because I work as a creative writing teacher and tutor, where how you look is much less of an issue. I get hired because of my ability. I wrote a memoir that I’m happy to say got great reviews and actually sells. This and the fact that I enjoy teach others, and am apparently pretty good at it, translates to having no trouble getting hired. Still, I know I’m fortunate. Many people with achondroplasia and other disabilities face discrimination by the ableist world all the time. Has discrimination affected your daily life and overall well-being? Actually, no. And while achondroplasia has affected me, overwhelmingly it’s been in positive ways. I know I’m incredibly lucky to be able to say this, but when I think of myself, being a little person is never the first thing I think of. Absolutely never. Even though growing up I pretty much always knew there would be things I couldn’t do or would need help with. Ironically, achondroplasia has led to many positives. It’s taught me empathy, and to never judge anyone by their appearance, since I never want anyone to judge me by mine. Because of it, I am just much more caring and understanding. Best of all, I’ve never really found achondroplasia to be an issue when it comes to trying to make friends or interact with people. It’s actually made all of my friendships much more open and made me feel more accepted. Part of this is because when it comes to needing help, my friends are the people I feel most comfortable asking. Because they just naturally look out for me. My best friend is 6’3” and I’m 4’. I think my being a little person, and him not being, comes out the most in our humor, especially mine. I constantly make jokes about our heights; things like, “I only want to be friends with you because you can get stuff down for me,” and “Oh. I’m so sorry your pants are too short. That must be really challenging for you.” It tends to be one-sided, though. I make fun of myself, but he doesn’t ever make fun of me. Have you faced any challenges or barriers in accessing healthcare, education, employment, or transportation due to your disability? When it comes to healthcare and education, I’ve never really faced any obstacles. As for accessing transportation, that’s been rare, too. This could be because I’ve always lived in places where people mainly travel by car, so I can just hop in, occasionally with a little boost from my friends. And I’ve been able to learn to drive, secure a license, and drive my own car. That’s because I found a shop that was able to outfit my car so I can get in and out and comfortably drive it. Solo! How cool is that!?! If I need to travel by bus, train, or plane, I do need to ask total strangers for help. This can sometimes feel hard, but I’m working on letting go of the ‘baggage’ that gets in the way of my comfortably doing it.

As a teacher and tutor, I’ve faced no barriers whatsoever.

Have you experienced any instances of ableism or prejudiced attitudes towards people with disabilities? How do you respond to those situations? This isn’t discrimination exactly, but one of my biggest challenges is going into a store, wanting to pick something off a shelf to buy and not being able to reach it. This happens a lot when I go into a CVS to buy snacks, or even just pencils. I leave in frustration because while I could ask someone who works there or another customer, for help, just like when I’m traveling, this can feel scary. Asking someone you’ve never seen in your life to do something so basic for you can be humiliating. And because the ableist world doesn’t conceive of this kind of thing being a problem, there are no supports for people like me. Even a sto ol to stand on would be a big help. With this kind of thing, too, I’m constantly having to shore up the courage to ask for help. Remembering how much I enjoy helping other people helps. I try to think of asking for help as giving someone else the gift of helping me. Prejudice I’ve experienced, twice in fact, was having someone come up to me and mistake me for someone they knew who had Down’s syndrome. I didn’t find this offensive in any way; I was just baffled. Are people so ignorant that they think Down’s syndrome and achondroplasia are the same thing? Or even similar? Or related? The truth is, I don’t feel entirely comfortable telling this story because it’s challenging to accurately describe the discomfort I felt, so it doesn’t’ sound like I’m distancing myself from people with Down’s syndrome. That I think of them as somehow lesser. People I’ve met with Down’s are awesome. That’s not the issue. This issue is abled people throwing all disabilities into one box. Failing to see us as individuals. Have you encountered any inaccessible environments or lack of accommodations that have made it difficult for you to fully participate in activities or spaces? I’m happy to say being a little person doesn’t impact me that much on a day-to-day basis. That’s not to say there aren’t times when things get really bad; when I get really frustrated because of something like being with my friends and not being able to do the same things they’re doing. It feels like I can’t keep up. And while this sounds totally mundane, using public restrooms, which are pretty inaccessible for people like me, can be totally frustrating. Imagine walking into a bathroom not knowing if you’ll be able to properly wash your hands because you can’t reach the soap dispenser. This is absurd almost, especially since accommodations exist for parents who need to change their babies’ diapers and for wheelchair users who need an oversized stall. There’ve been so many times when I’ve walked out of a bathroom having only rinsed my hands with water because of not being able to access the soap. Yes, that’s gross, but what am I supposed to do? Ask a stranger to pump soap into their hand and give it to me? Have you found any supportive communities or organizations that have helped you cope with and address disability-based discrimination? I actually belong to a community of artists with disabilities. This happened because of being invited to present at a “How Disability Informs My Art” conference. At first I was hesitant to accept, since as I’ve said, I don’t usually identify in this way. But when the organizers, who are artists with disabilities themselves, explained that the goal of holding it was to support artists with disabilities; to encourage them to own that they have something unique and important to contribute, I decided to go for it. It was a great experience. I read segments of my memoir. I even got a standing ovation – or the equivalent, since not everyone there was physically able to stand. Attending also allowed me to help build a community of artists with disabilities that I still belong to. Conference attendees and presenters formed a Facebook group and created regional chapters that meet in person, and during the pandemic, on Zoom. We’ve only just started to meet in person again, and I’m so happy we are. It’s a place where we all feel so safe expressing hesitations to ‘put ourselves out there,’ either self-created through lack of confidence, or thrown at us by the ableist world, based on ignorance. We share how all this makes us feel, and come up with strategies to combat it. I learned the importance of community a long time before this; while I was writing my memoir, in fact. I was fortunate to find and participate in a writers’ workshop where I got to reflect on what other people were producing and receive incredibly helpful feedback on my own work. Not only that, I got to hang out with people with whom I felt a deep sympatico. I made some great friends there, and still attend. Going helps me to stave off feelings of isolation, since writing, like being a disabled person in an abled world, can get pretty lonely. How do you navigate the intersectionality of disability and other aspects of your identity, such as gender, race, or sexuality, in the face of discrimination? As a Caucasian, straight, cisgendered individual (in my case female), US-born individual, I thankfully don’t face overlapping forms of discrimination, i.e., those that target me as a little person, LGBTQI, migrant, or non-Caucasian. This being said, I’m extremely sensitive to and aware of the broad landscape of situations in which these kinds discrimination take place. I work to identify and call it out, and to support those who are its targets. What steps have you taken to advocate for your rights and raise awareness about disability rights and accessibility? I rarely use the word hate, but in this case, I’ll make an exception. I hate the fact that that there are so few onscreen roles for little people, and that those that do exist are typically dwarves, elves, Oompa Loompas, etc. The list goes on. All of these categorize little people as mythical creatures, as opposed to the legitimate humans we are. Many resort to heavy disguises and portray little people as weird, evil, or unnatural. This drives the perception that little people are not quite human and definitely not relatable.

I’m planning to convene a symposium of those whom society regularly ‘others’ – little people, those with Down’s syndrome, paraplegics, LBGTQI individuals, etc., to create a public forum to express how we feel about the ways we’re portrayed and how this, in turn, drives people’s attitudes and affects how they us. In your opinion, what changes can society make to promote inclusivity, accessibility, and equal opportunities for individuals with disabilities and reduce discrimination effectively? I think representation and advocacy are incredibly important. This ties back to the media and finding ways to push back against horribly negative representations of dwarfism (what ignorant people regularly call achondroplasia) and other disabilities. This is because, not surprisingly, how we’re portrayed impacts how we’re seen in real life, and even how we see ourselves. A lot.

I did some research on attempts to stop this kind of discrimination, and learned that while the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA), that passed back in 1990, legislates against discrimination in employment and access to public places, a 2021 Forbes magazine entitled, 31 Years Later, 31 Things About The Americans With Disabilities Act” explains that, “[W]eak, fragmented, and functionally voluntary enforcement of accessibility standards have … contributed to … ‘waves’ of lawsuits…. [that] can often seem like the only effective option.” The ADA mostly aims at educating people, and doesn’t force businesses or even religious institutions to comply in terms of making places accessible, i.e., welcoming. I don’t mean to sound preachy, we need to legislate actual policy that eliminates circumstances that lead to maltreatment. While I, and most of us frankly, don’t possess the answers, we need to keep asking questions and seeking answers. This is the only way to make progress that will allow those of us with disabilities to live fully participatory lives.

About the Author

The interviewee is a 35-year-old writer and author of a memoir published in 2019 as well as a forthcoming novel. She lives in upstate New York with her partner and spends an

inordinate amount of time taking care of their brood of chickens.