Breaking The Social Media Chain: Stop Pasting, Start Caring

“One like = one prayer!”
“Scroll down and type amen!”
“I know many people don’t give a hoot about…”
“I know 97% of people won’t post this, but my real friends will!”

I think it’s safe to say most of us have seen these copy-and-paste chain statuses. They’re shared by well-meaning people who have fallen for the slacktivism trend—that is, they’ve been tricked into believing a boilerplate Facebook status will inspire positive change. This isn’t to say that the people sharing them don’t care deeply enough, or that they don’t play a significant role in their offline lives, but it’s worth unpacking the reasoning behind these posts to ascertain their usefulness.
Awareness is a great buzzword, and it makes people feel as though they’re accomplishing something just by hitting “post.” While social media can be a powerful tool, this isn’t the best way to use it.
First of all, these statuses employ a confrontational, aggressive tone. Claiming that most people “don’t give a hoot” about serious illnesses and disabilities is unlikely to win people over. Whenever I see this, it irritates me and makes me want to scroll right by. These posts often go on to say that only “real” or “true” friends will repost, as though anyone who doesn’t is an unfeeling, poor excuse for a friend. Each time I see this type of statement, my instinct is to declare that my true, real friends would refrain from posting these at all. If the many snarky parodies all over my news feed are any indication, I’m not the only one who feels this way.
Sharing these posts comes across as inauthentic. It only takes a line or two for me to realize my friend did not, in fact, write it for themselves. It doesn’t sound like them, and doesn’t even seem to fit their personality. Since it doesn’t align with who I know them to be, I’m less willing to spend time reading it. I try to fill my Facebook feed with people who interest me, and while it’s wise and sometimes even necessary to share the words of others, copying and pasting a generic rant about real problems and “true” friends seems out of place and careless. I’m happy to get behind a cause that my friends care deeply about, but in my opinion at least, these posts don’t convey sincerity.
These statuses devalue the power of thoughtful, specific posts intended to raise legitimate awareness. A personalized message from one of my friends is much more likely to influence me than a template some stranger developed—especially when it’s clear the original poster had little grasp of how best to persuade people to listen and act. Sure, the unusual combination of aggression and warm fuzz garners plenty of attention and millions of shares, but does it really result in anything lasting or meaningful? I’m doubtful. (If anyone has any actual data on this, I’d be genuinely interested!)
Last, and perhaps most importantly, these chain messages don’t demonstrate anything other than a person’s ability to copy and paste. It takes almost no effort to do this, and even less thought. It’s so easy to hit a couple of buttons and feel as though you’ve made a real difference in the world, especially when you’re rewarded with likes and shares. In the end, though, all you’re doing is helping a chain letter spread to as many corners of the internet as possible. Maybe sharing does raise genuine awareness and maybe it doesn’t, but it’s not enough to change your status—you need to prove you care, too.
If you want to do some tangible good, reach further than a Facebook post. Seek out friends who are suffering and let them know you’re thinking of them. Instead of “liking” a status in lieu of a prayer, why not go ahead and say an actual prayer? (I don’t know that this does any good, but it’s still preferable to hitting a “like” button and calling it a day.) Donate to charities you believe in; sending money to a trusted organization is a lot more useful than addressing popular causes in vague terms on Facebook. If you don’t have the money to donate, use your social media reach to promote those charities instead, so that others can support them. Speaking from my own experiences, I benefit far more from a phone call, text, or thoughtful blog post than a wordy, spammy Facebook status. I do write a blog, and I do use my modest online presence to raise awareness, but I also do my best to strengthen, encourage, and bolster people as individuals.
My words shouldn’t be interpreted as an attempt to disparage social media or awareness campaigns. I began this blog in an effort to reach as many people as possible, and social media is the chief way in which to do that. I write to inform the public, so likes and shares do make a difference. Sometimes, engaging with your friends, family, and wider network is your only option, especially if you lack money and political clout—and I definitely lack both.
So, it’s not a sin to post these things, though be warned that many of your Facebook friends will find them very annoying. It’s okay to use your social media profile to spread awareness of causes you care about. I urge you to broadcast the voices of those who are experiencing illness and disability. We appreciate when allies signal-boost us, because it might be the only way to be heard.
As you do this, be conscious of the limited good social media can achieve. Never fool yourself into thinking that social media is the best or only way to make an impact. The world needs more than good intentions and viral content. We need comfort, friendship, solidarity and concrete assistance. We need people to write to political representatives; donate to organizations that help us; remind us that we’re not alone; and ask open-ended questions about what we need on an individual basis. Improving our lives is best accomplished by employing us, dismantling societal barriers, and offering us your shoulder when we need it most.
So, share away, by all means. Your social media platform is yours to use as you will; I’d never dispute that. I simply request that you consider the impact of what you post before you post it, and ask yourself whether you could be doing something else—something more productive.
Scroll less, pray more.
Paste less, write more.
Share less, give more.
Most of all, be there for the people who need you. Your little area of the world is where you can do your best work.

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Dear Web Developers: You’re Out Of Excuses

It’s been one of those days—a day that makes me want to shut down my computer and hide under a quilt to cry. It’s barely noon, and I’m already utterly fed up. If I had chocolate, I’d be binge-eating it; if I had wine, I’d be guzzling it.
Fellow disabled people will understand the kind of day I’m having: it’s the kind during which almost every single task I try to accomplish online is blocked by accessibility issues.
I encounter accessibility roadblocks all the time, though they usually have workarounds. I’m so used to them that I hardly give them much thought, and don’t waste much of my limited emotional energy on being annoyed with them. They’re a fact of life and, while I do report bugs and encourage web developers to improve, I’ve worked to embrace a positive, patient attitude when it comes to navigating the internet. Most days, I’m just grateful that I can access the internet at all. Sure, I get snarky, but generally I would rather help than condemn.
On days like these, though, I’m less philosophical. Smothering my frustration when I ran into yet another inaccessible capcha became increasingly difficult, and when I tried to report the issue using the site’s contact form, I discovered that the “submit” button wasn’t accessible either. At that point, I realized I had no chill. None. I searched for it, willing it to return, but I’m thoroughly, disproportionately discomposed.
I get it: accessibility isn’t always intuitive, and many developers are self-taught. They learn as they go along, and mistakes like these are almost inevitable. While I’m not a developer myself—I’m proud when I manage to use html correctly—I can imagine that accessibility might not be covered well in school, either. During a course on web design and online information architecture, my class received one short lesson on accessibility—just enough to explain what accessibility actually is and why it’s important, but not enough to provide insight into how it can be accomplished. There was little mention of accessibility tests, plugins, consultants, or basic handbooks. Few practical solutions were discussed. In other words, the lesson focused on awareness only, without providing a solution to the issue it raised. How useful is that? Well, it’s not useful at all.
So, yes, I understand that inclusive web design may not come naturally to a budding developer. It also might be challenging for a veteran because web accessibility has evolved considerably. As people with various disabilities speak out about what they need, accessibility becomes more comprehensive and, therefore, more complicated. I don’t pretend to know all there is to know. I’m not even close to that point yet.
Still, as in so many areas of life, ignorance is not a justifiable defence. It’s 2016, and accessibility guidelines are one click away. I’ve just performed a basic Google search, “web accessibility,” and the entire page of results is filled with helpful articles ranging from the most basic to the most advanced. Surely even beginners can take at least a few steps to ensure their websites are as inclusive as possible!
I’ve concluded that my frustration is fuelled by years of feeling like a burden when I asked developers to fix some problem or other. I was often treated like an unreasonable user who was asking for the moon, and I became accustomed to that. With notable exceptions like Apple and Buffer, my requests for improvements have often been ignored or dismissed. Several companies have lost my business entirely because I literally could not use their services anymore.
I’m growing weary of explaining that accessibility is not a privilege, but a right. I’m sick of reiterating that, no, accessibility is not about doing us a “favour.” I’m desperately tired of insisting that while ease of use isn’t mandatory, accessibility certainly is.
Developers need to add accessibility to their core values. They need to stop lumping accessibility into a category alongside perks, special features, and enhancements. They need to stop reducing it to a public relations stunt, designed only to generate glowing publicity. They need to consider it standard, not extra. Making your site accessible should be framed as the least that can be done to provide a satisfactory user experience. Companies like Apple, which include accessibility as a matter of course as often as possible, shouldn’t be as notable and praiseworthy as they are. What they are doing should not only be common, but normal. Expected. Fundamental.
So, developers, please listen: you are running out of excuses. You can’t claim ignorance; there is too much information out there for you to do that. You can’t hide behind pleas that you don’t have the time or the skill; accessibility plugins abound, and the simplest steps you can take are ones so easy to implement that even I, not tech-savvy by anyone’s standards, can figure them out. You can no longer classify accessibility as optional. Unless we’re talking about visually-based games, for example, there is no sufficient reason to leave a button unlabeled or an image undescribed. By failing to take these essential measures, you’re effectively shirking your responsibility to your users.
For now, we have workarounds. We have specialized software to help us circumvent accessibility challenges. We have extensive experience, accessibility consultants, and countless developers who are already on the right track. All is not bleak. Much of the internet is mostly, if not totally, accessible, and it’s getting better all the time. But …
I’m done making excuses for you. I refuse to apologize when I can’t access features of a website. I can’t in good conscience allow you to view my access issues as an inconvenience. I’m no longer going to defend your ignorance, your unwillingness to take the time, or your belief that I’m asking too much. Developers, I’m not asking a lot. I’m merely asking that I and fellow disabled users be able to access your website. That’s it. I just want to create an account, browse your services, and maybe even give you my money and share your content. I’m happy to help. I’ll cheerfully act as a beta tester. I don’t mind reporting bugs and offering suggestions on how to make your site better. I understand the difference between “inaccessible” and “imperfect.” When it comes to helping you make your site more inclusive, my time is yours.
Until you recognize that it’s time for change, however, I will no longer give you a pass. If you have the resources to make your website eye-catching and flashy and exciting, you definitely have the ability to make sure it’s usable, too. Karl Groves puts it more eloquently than I ever could: accessibility problems are “quality problems,” and nothing less.

The Cult Of Positivity: 9 Inspirational Mantras I’m Very Sick Of Hearing

Everywhere I go, the magic of positivity is being touted. It seems that people think it can solve everything. Just smile, recite your affirmations, and will your problems away.
A positive outlook is helpful, and even necessary, but realism is equally helpful. While I know there are good intentions behind this movement, it’s not always what we need.

The only disability is a bad attitude.

Certainly a negative attitude is disabling, but no matter how glowingly positive you can be, it won’t influence employer attitudes, cure chronic illness, force the world to become accessible, or eliminate prejudice in a single bound.

Work hard and you’ll succeed.

C’mon, we all know this is patently untrue, right? Hard work is almost always required, but there are other things to consider, like luck, privilege, the nature of your disability, and the size of your network. In my experience, people who believe this are those who have either gotten lucky or have never known what it is to have the deck stacked against them.

All you need are positive mantras.

For some types of people, mantras don’t work and can even make things worse. Affirmations are great and all, but they’re not instant solutions. This isn’t The Secret: you can’t attract good fortune and happiness just by scrunching up your nose and wishing really, really hard. (Try it. I’ll wait.)

If you believe in yourself, others will, too.

Really? Reeeeeeally? You definitely have to have confidence and faith in your abilities, of course. That’s a given. We know we’re capable. We know we deserve an equal chance to prove ourselves. We know society doesn’t often give us the opportunity to show that we’re contributing members of society with as much to bring to the table as nondisabled people. This platitude is so absurd that I can’t even say much about it besides, um, … reeeeeally?!

If you want something enough, it will happen.

This is a very damaging thing to say, even if it’s meant to encourage people to keep the faith and commit to their aspirations. I can get behind that. If you don’t try, you won’t ever succeed. I just can’t ignore the fact that it’s almost entirely false, though, not to mention that it makes a ton of assumptions. Remember that old saying: you can want in one hand and spit in the other, and see which fills up first? Yeah, that.

If you’re polite and kind, you’ll influence people.

When I started the blog, I set out to be kind. I still maintain that kindness and empathy are underrated and they serve me well for the most part. The thing is, this line of reasoning makes it sound as though, with a smile and a gracious response, nondisabled people will immediately understand and change their perceptions and behaviours. It’s really rather astonishing that people expect this to actually work across the board. Few marginalized groups ever got anywhere by being nice all the time. Besides, I wasn’t put on this earth to educate people whenever they demand it. I enjoy it very much, but it’s not my purpose.

If you were more positive, it might cure you.

This is so offensive and short-sighted that I don’t even know what to say about it. People are always proposing outlandish cures for chronic pain or mental illness (and they love the idea that prayer will fix my broken eyes), and it makes my blood boil. It places the burden on us, as though the only thing keeping us from banishing our disabilities is our lack of faith.

If other disabled people can do it, you can, too.

This one drives me insane. It’s inspiring to watch fellow disabled people achieve great things, and it can spur others to try pushing the envelope, but everyone is different. You can’t assume all disabled people are the same. No one would say to a nondisabled person, “I know someone who can do ___, why can’t you?” We acknowledge that people in general have different strengths and diverse circumstances, so why doesn’t this apply to disabled people? (Personally, I found this statement demoralizing, and it made me feel terrible about myself for a long, long time.)

If you’re in a bad situation, just fix it.

This is a statement that is often put forward by people with disabilities, who assume that every other disabled person has the same advantages they do. It’s an awfully privileged thing to say, and it’s not very helpful besides. Believing that someone should just “figure it out” is often the result of a “pull yourself up by your bootstraps” mentality that simply won’t work for everyone. If you’re too poor to move to a more accessible city, unable to learn skills due to a lack of available instruction, or unable to afford an education, that shouldn’t reflect badly on you the way many disabled people seem to think it does. This is not an excuse to give up entirely and expect your life to improve. Yes, it’s important to explore your options and be creative—the world won’t hand things to you—but saying that someone can always “fix” their lives is condescending as all get-out, and discouraging as well.
Positivity has its place, and we shouldn’t forget that. Unfortunately, it’s currently in fashion, and it doesn’t look like it will be calming down any time soon. All you can do is ignore what’s useless, take what is useful, and find your own balance.