sheltered workshops or sweatshops?

Glenda was born with a rare bone disease that crippled her body and put her into a wheelchair. She’s a feisty young lady and wants to lead a productive life but the people who run the organizations set up to help disabled people find work have let her down badly.

"I appreciate that these people do their best to uphold the hopes and aspirations of the disabled people who seek their help," says Glenda, "but in trying to help us become productive members of society these people are ultimately exposing us to more ridicule."

"I've been in a wheelchair for as long as I can remember," sighs Glenda, "and I've been treated like a second class citizen, too, for as long as I can remember."

"I live at home with my parents," explains Glenda, "but they are getting old. Dad recently lost his job and mom is desperately hanging on to hers."

"I worry about what will happen to me when they die. I dread the thought of ending up in an place where I'll become a vegetable because nobody cares whether I live or die."

It never ceases to amaze Glenda how those who start off life with a huge burden are often those who are forced by a largely uncaring world into bearing more burdens and facing more obstacles than ever.

She believes that the world is becoming more and more hardhearted towards disability and imperfection.

"When the cult of perfection has reached the point where fetuses are being aborted if the slightest imperfection is found," remarks Glenda, "it speaks loudly for the utter contempt that society has for people like me."

"Few parents these days," sighs Glenda, "want the burden of raising an imperfect child, but it is not just for their own benefit that they resort to abortion but for the benefit of the unborn child, too."

"They feel that in today's world such a child would have Buckley's chance of finding employment and becoming self-supporting, and would also have very little opportunity of joining mainstream life and shining in his or her own right."

Ultimately, Glenda believes that gene technology will make all of us ‘perfect’.

"But what exactly is perfect?" asks Glenda. "Is being physically perfect the only human perfection? Or the only human perfection worth prizing? What of the incredible talents of the deaf, blind, mute, paralyzed and so many other ‘different’ people in our world?"

"Most people have two able legs to get around, two able arms to do work, a pair of eyes that see well, two ears that hear well, a voice that is clear and articulate and good general health," says Glenda, "but very few people have special gifts."

"I'm not saying that all disabled people are gifted," says Glenda, "but I do believe that more of us have special gifts than the able bodied population."

Glenda believes that the cult of perfection will ultimately rob society not only of gifted people but also compassionate people.

"Let’s face it," she says, "no human being is perfect. The rosiest apple is often full of worms. Genetic engineering is not going to get rid of sociopaths and thieves and murderers. I really believe that society should look more closely at the special gifts that disabled people can bring to the world."

Having successfully coped with a burden all of their lives, Glenda believes that disabled people often have superb skills in areas that most able-bodied people fall short.

"Qualities such as patience, endurance, intuition and empathy are just a few of the special traits that can be utilized productively in society," says Glenda. "Who has more time on their hands to really care about the world than us?"

Glenda also includes the ability to ‘manipulate’ as one of the special skills because she feels that without being able to wheedle their way around, these guys would be more downtrodden than they are already.

Glenda is also critical of the people who run the organizations set up to help disabled people.

"I don't see a sheltered workshop as an opportunity to become a productive member of society," explains Glenda. "The whole notion of special employment for the disabled is humiliating and as far as I can see those places are little more than sweat-shops."

"More and more older workers like my dad," says Glenda, "are forced out of work at 50 even though they are 100% fit and want to keep on working. The rationale behind forced retirement is that there are just not enough jobs to go around and the young must be given a chance."

"In my world, the rationale is that the able bodied deserve priority in the workplace," says Glenda, "and that's OK with me because most of those jobs aren't worth having."

"What I want is a chance to shine in my own right, a chance to be accepted as a worthwhile human being," says Glenda. "I want to be seen as someone with special gifts that can do good in the world."

"I already help other people doing telephone counseling, but I don't get paid for it," explains Glenda. "Being disabled means that I'm not seen as someone worthy of a paid position as a counselor. That sort of job goes to smart women who drive BMWs and have rich husbands, right?"

"If older people like my dad are being forced out of jobs before their time and given a welfare check and told in so many words to go home and play with their rocking chairs," says Glenda, "then it won't be long before 30-year olds are given the same treatment."

"Globalization is doing terrible things to little people in the western world," says Glenda, "and it's going to do worse things to disabled people."

Bearing in mind the high costs of training disabled people for employment, and the low wages they are paid if they do find work - often insufficient to pay for their special transport, medical needs and technical aids - Glenda predicts that a future government voted in by the grown-up perfect designer babies of today will treat disabled people with the same disrespect that is now shown to older workers.

"They will be given a welfare check and told quite openly to go home and play with their wheelchairs," says Glenda, "and those who now earn a living helping us will be out of jobs, too."

Glenda believes that with more and more disabled people being denied access to jobs and the independence that comes with an income, the burden on caregivers is going to become a worse problem than it is already.

She also believes that the burden on disabled people will be worsened by the development of emotional disorders in addition to the physical disorders they have already.

"Of course," laughs Glenda, "a future government voted in by the grown-up perfect designer babies of today will have very few disabled people to deal with."

"Ultimately, there will be no disabled people, no ill people and no old people."

"Imperfect fetuses will not be allowed to become babies; recessive genes will be eliminated; accident victims will be fixed up with spare parts; and the elderly will be youthanazed or euthanazed."

"Everyone will be physically perfect one day," sighs Glenda, "but they'll all be emotionally crippled because of it."

disabled and discouraged

Colleen is 26 and was confined to a wheelchair two years ago after an automobile accident left her a paraplegic. She desperately needs to find a job so that she can afford a specially-modified place where she can achieve a more independent lifestyle but the social barriers that ostracize her from mainstream life are more crippling than her disability.

"I'm philosophical about my fate," says Colleen, "it was my fault, nobody else was to blame, and when things get me down I recall all the good memories of my life before the accident and I feel better."

Colleen shares a community-run house with a variety of similarly ‘imperfect’ people - some old, some young, some mildly disabled, some severely disabled.

Carers and assistants are resident in the house, and all meals, washing and general housework are done by them.

"Community living is better than living at home and being a burden on my parents," says Colleen, "and it’s great having friends around me 24/7."

"We’re a family here, but it’s nevertheless an institution and I yearn for the day when I can afford a specially-modified place where my friends and I can achieve a more independent lifestyle - and hopefully find a boyfriend."

In order to afford such a place, though, Colleen and her friends have to find a job and earn some money, and this is becoming an impossibility for them.

Unfortunately, in life, and on the job hunting scene particularly, Colleen accepts that everyone demands physical perfection.

She makes the point, however, that she is not suffering from physical disability.

"I am not ill," sighs Colleen, "but I am suffering emotionally from the social barriers that ostracize me from mainstream life."

Colleen is often only limited in employment by the physical barriers of the workplace.

"If there are steps in the building or if there are no special toilet facilities," says Colleen, "I am excluded from employment immediately and legally."

Colleen wonders whether trying to find employment is worth all the humiliation she has to go through. She’s wondering whether she should settle for a welfare check and give up her dream to become fully independent.

"In today's employment market when people with 100% ability are being laid off jobs and spending months, if not years, looking for a new job and still not getting a job commensurate in pay and conditions to the one they once enjoyed," says Colleen, "I guess I should accept it as a fact of life that those who have disabilities - especially if the disabilities are easily visible or discernable - are totally out of luck."

"When times get tough," says Colleen, "the weak and vulnerable do indeed get trampled upon."

"Even on the streets I get trampled on," laughs Colleen. "One day I wheeled down the road to test my skills and got stranded on the sidewalk with a parked car blocking my path."

"Luckily a woman came along and assisted me by knocking on all the houses to see who owned the car."

"The car owner was soon found and he was very apologetic," explains Colleen, "but as soon as I wheeled by, he drove right back up onto the sidewalk and I screamed at him! He had a garage but he was too lazy to use it."

"I suppose old women with walking frames have the same problem when out walking, so even age is becoming a disability in our society," sighs Colleen.

"I think, too, that one of the many barriers to employing older workers is the belief that their health is not going to be as good as that of a younger person. An older person who takes a few days off sick for a common complaint is going to be treated very differently from a younger person having the same complaint and taking as much, if not more, time off work. It is going to be a definite black mark in their employment record. As unfair as the practice is, the HR clerk will mark their file ‘physically unfit’. For this reason, many older workers refuse to disclose their health problems and consequently take terrible risks in the workplace."

"With that sort of petty discrimination going on against older workers," says Colleen, "just imagine the uphill battle a disabled person has in finding and keeping a job. For me, just getting up, dressed and transported to an interview is a logistics exercise worthy of a military deployment."

"What is interesting about this whole disability issue," says Colleen, "is that those who have invisible disabilities - or disabilities that are not readily discernable, such as diabetes, epilepsy, mental illness, etc - are often able to circumvent the barriers to employment even though some of these disabilities are far more of a risk than the ‘visible’ disabilities.

Everyone has a workplace story about some co-worker who went into a diabetic coma, had an epileptic fit or went berserk. Very few people have a workplace story about a person with a clearly visible or discernible disability, yet we are the ones who bear the brunt of discrimination."

"I am receiving help from specialists to get me back into the workforce," says Colleen, "but I feel that they are just knocking on closed business doors behind which closed business minds reside."

"There is an ‘industry’ built around providing help for the disabled," explains Colleen, "and the people employed in this industry naturally have a vested interest in keeping their jobs. And therein lies a conflict of interest."

"If the ‘disability’ industry admitted that it really cannot help us find jobs," says Colleen, "then it would be cutting off its nose to spite its face. We are the bread and butter of the disability industry, and some of the guys employed in those places are being downright cruel in continuing to encourage us to seek work in the face of total disinterest from employers."

"Officially, as a society, we are committed to funding the training, counseling and employment placement of disabled citizens," says Colleen, "but think about it. Is it really kinder to give hope of a mainstream job, building up expectations beyond reality; or is it kinder to admit that if a 100% able-bodied person is having trouble finding employment then disabled job-applicants like me have no hope whatsoever?"

good communication skills?

One would think that a hearing impaired person would have little difficulty finding appropriate employment, but Kaye, 23, is having a lot of trouble finding a job where her disability won't be a barrier.

"Hearing loss is an invisible disability and nobody but a perfectionist would pick up a difference in speech or communicative ability," explains Kaye, "yet when 99.9% of job advertisements insist upon good communication skills, a hearing impaired person is being unfairly discriminated against."

"Very often the jobs do not require anything more than the ability to say good-morning and goodnight," adds Kaye, "yet communication skills remain one of the top desired skills required by employers. Isn’t that crazy?"

"I wear a hearing aid and I can hear as well as a hearing person," says Kaye, "but apparently I can't speak as well as a hearing person because I wasn't taught to speak early enough."

"I think I sound OK and so do my family and friends," says Kaye, "but to everyone else I sound strange when I speak and this really upsets me."

According to Kaye, the most frequently used phrase in job ads is good communication skills.

"If it's not in the current job advertisement you are looking at, then they've forgotten to put it in," says Kaye.

“Either that, or you've hit upon a gem of a job that does not require you to answer telephones!”

What does the phrase mean?

Kaye was once told in confidence by a recruitment specialist that it is deliberately used in job advertisements because too many applications come from people who cannot speak English very well. In other words, it is designed to discriminate against foreigners.

However, Kaye believes that good communication skills simply means an ability to answer telephones, and because of her disability she feels that she is not the ideal applicant for this type of job.

"You don't expect a visually impaired person to be the ideal person to do proof-reading or editing," says Kaye, "and similarly a deaf person isn't the ideal person to do telephone work."

"Of course, an ability to speak clear English - or whatever language - is paramount in this type of job," says Kaye, "but if a job advertisement has good communication skills right up there with qualifications and experience, then no matter what they put for the title of the job the actual job is nothing more than a receptionist or a customer service representative."

”Also,” adds Kaye, “just about every job requires you to communicate with others but not everyone is a good communicator in that they can speak clearly, properly and intelligently."

"I have a communication disorder," says Kaye, "but being deaf doesn't make me stupid. I can communicate clearly, properly and intelligently. Once people get used to hearing my voice, they don't notice that I speak differently."

“I feel rotten when I see just about every job advertised as requiring good communication skills," says Kaye.

"I feel that as long as you can communicate - be it with spoken words, written words or hand gestures - and do it well, then you are a good communicator."

"The art of communication is to get your message across. If you can do that, then you have every right to apply for a job requiring good communication skills," says Kaye.

However, after several bad experiences Kaye prefers to avoid jobs that specify good communication skills.

"Sometimes when I telephone to enquire about a job the person at the end of the line is downright rude to me," says Kaye, "and sometimes when I make it to an interview I am treated very badly."

"I see no reason to state upfront that I am deaf," says Kaye.

"Why should I? Does a person with herpes feel that he or she should mention that fact at an interview? I don't think so!"

"What happens when people first hear me speak is that their eyebrows go up and they look at me quizzically, like I'm stupid or something," explains Kaye.

"My hair covers my hearing aid so they don't know I'm deaf."

"I want people to accept me as I am, not to pity me or drop me in a box to be treated differently to everyone else," adds Kaye. "So I deliberately hide my hearing aid."

"I don't hide it out of shame. I hide it to give people a chance to treat me normally."

"Unfortunately," says Kaye, "I've yet to meet anyone in my job hunting efforts who treats me like a normal person."

"Sometimes I feel that deaf children born into families who accept deafness and don't try to teach their children to speak are better off than those of us who went through the hoops in order to make us 'normal'."

"Sure, I appreciate that my parents were doing what they thought was best for me," adds Kaye, "and I love them to bits and I'm grateful for a loving home - but I'm not happy."

"I never learned how to sign," says Kaye, "so I can't communicate with deaf people who sign and they don't accept me either."

"I'm neither accepted in the hearing world nor in the signing world," sighs Kaye, "but I know which world I would prefer to be in had I been given a chance to be in it when I was young."