How I Turned Society’s Narrative of Disability on Its Head

When most people think deeply about ableist institutions, the fashion industry is probably not the first thing that comes to mind. However, it wasn’t until I went to obtain a degree in fashion design that I had ever fully experienced the ways in which ableism can pull you down, mess with your head and make you question everything you think you know.

I was born with dwarfism and, up until this point, had experienced stares and comments while out in public and had, in my high school years, been introduced to the trials of my first job while also having a disability; however, I had never experienced these engrained attitudes at such a systemic level. I had just enrolled in a fashion design program at the Art Institute of Dallas, as I had hopes of starting a clothes line for Little People. From my perspective at that time, and still to this day, there is far more beauty in the world than your typical Barbie doll model with long legs, no curves, and blonde hair. I was there to prove that no matter the package, we all deserve to have clothes that fit our unique bodies. However, what I learned was that coming in to challenge the status quo of the entire fashion industry wasn’t going to happen the first week and would receive more pushback than I had ever received in my entire life.

Ideas of beauty are deeply entrenched in our society. You see them broadly displayed in media and its advertising, as well as expressed in our most intimate conversations. Of course, these standards of beauty are mostly used to make judgments about women’s bodies and the instructors of fashion design are, in some ways, trained to keep these notions deeply held and to pass on this mindset to their students. When I came in to create clothes for bodies outside of the “norm”, I was told, in very clear terms, that this was not beautiful and that they were there to ensure that I would not succeed at broadening the scope of what was considered beautiful. They did so by trying to have my car towed on a weekly basis, to having my stool that I used as a reasonable accommodation to reach some of the equipment removed, to failing me on all of my design projects that were for anything other than the “average” body. After two years of this, I felt defeated and worn out. It was the loneliest time of my life. I came into this experience with so much creativity and so many ideas for how I wanted to change the world and graduated feeling like my ideas were not just wrong, but that I was also deeply misconstruing how I saw my own body and how I used it to navigate through the world. If anything outside of six foot, long legs and blonde hair was not beautiful, then I, clearly, did not fit into that box. But I promised myself that I would keep pushing, even for no other reason than to piss them off because I actually finished a degree at their institution.

I did end up graduating with an Associate’s Degree in Fashion Design from the Art Institute; however, I have never used that degree for its intended purpose. Time will tell if I ever will, but this degree gave me far more than an understanding of design and fashion, but rather a profound understanding of how deeply entrenched negative portrayals of disability really are. Shortly after graduating, I decided that while a clothes line would be important, there was a strong need for disability policy work to be done in our country. I continued on with my education and now have a Master’s Degree in Public Policy. Further, I have used this experience at the Art Institute to directly help other teenage girls with disabilities to navigate the messages society gives us about beauty and disability. I do this every summer by co-facilitating the “Her Power! Her Pride! Her Voice!” summer camp for disabled girls, where we have hard conversations that explore ableism, self-image, and disability pride. Of course, I am also working to address many of these same issues on the systemic level as a Media and Entertainment Advocate with the Center for Disability Rights, helping to organize this #LiveOn campaign among other duties.

Had you told me in the middle of my time at the Art Institute that I would end up using this experience to turn society’s narrative of disability on its head, I would have never believed you. But you never know where life will take you and the ways in which it will give you the chance to share your experience with someone else. You just have to #LiveOn to see.