11 Ways to Respond When Someone Insults a Loved One's Disability

January 6, 2025 11:33 AM EST

The way people with disabilities are treated is backsliding in the U.S., advocates say. Cruel names are slung around without a second thought; fingers are pointed; “jokes” are whispered just out of earshot of their target—or not. In other words, even now, decades after the disability rights movement began, people are mean.

“So much of what we’re seeing is behavior that’s grounded in either fear, ignorance, or the normalization of incivility,” says Katy Neas, CEO of the Arc of the United States, a nonprofit that promotes and protects the rights of people with intellectual and developmental disabilities. What’s particularly baffling to her is that, at some point, most of us will be disabled—whether that means losing our ability to hear as we age or suffering from an acute or chronic illness. “We’re one illness or car accident away from being disabled,” she says.

It’s important to speak up when someone rudely comments on or otherwise insults a person’s disability, Neas says. (Unless, of course, your friend or family member doesn’t want you to. Some people with disabilities are perfectly capable of and prefer defending themselves, or would rather avoid a scene.) “We need to stand up to the haters, and we need to outnumber them,” she says. But how? We asked Neas and other experts exactly what to say when someone mocks your or a loved one’s disability.

“Not all disabilities are evident.”

For years, Jen VanSkiver became enraged when she overheard "microaggressions" against her daughter, who is neurodivergent. She didn't necessarily want to confront those people head on, but she wanted to head off whatever they were saying so the situation didn't escalate. “It’s a fight-or-flight reaction,” says VanSkiver, the chief officer of strategic growth with Special Olympics Michigan. “Not much thinking—it’s very emotional.” These days, she feels less of a need to be so vigilant; her daughter is thriving. “But there are moments where I feel that old rage bubble up, and I feel some words or behaviors just about to take flight out of my body.”

What VanSkiver has learned is that it's best to tap into her more rational side—and to assume that people don't realize what's wrong with what they're saying. She approaches negative encounters as a teaching moment. Sometimes at school sporting events when her daughter was younger, for example, she would overhear people making fun of her or other athletes' supposed deficiencies, not realizing that they were facing an uphill battle compared to their teammates. She would take them aside and say: “Not all disabilities are evident.”

“Most people will react with 50% shock and 50% embarrassment,” she says. “When they’re kindly reminded of the diversity that's standing in front of them that maybe they didn't notice right away, that becomes a core moment for them.”

“I would be careful about some of the language you use, because you never know who you’re talking to.”

Sometimes people just don't get the memo about how to behave, even after being nudged—which is when it's important to be direct. If someone keeps slinging around inappropriate words, for example, VanSkiver recommends pulling them aside and letting them know they should be more careful. “Language is very, very powerful,” she says. “I'm a child of the 70s—‘sticks and stones may break my bones.’ But they do hurt. That was a poem of a different era.”

“That’s hurtful.”

Disability rights activist Jennifer Gasner, who has a rare progressive disease called Friedreich's ataxia, tries to extricate herself from the situation as quickly as possible when people comment on her disability. Sometimes that means calmly educating them by letting them know their words are hurtful, even if that’s not what they intended. “I don’t want to be preachy,” says Gasner, author of My Unexpected Life. “I want to be succinct and clear and disengage, but also maintain my own dignity.”

Directly informing someone about the impact of their words is an effective way to call them out without being confrontational, she adds—while opening the door for them to learn from their mistake.

“Can I ask why you think that’s funny?”

Sometimes, when Gasner and her boyfriend go out to dinner, bystanders open their mouths: “Are you guys going to race each other in your wheelchairs?” The would-be comedians think their “joke” is hilarious. Gasner does not. Her go-to response is asking them why they thought it was funny or appropriate.

“I like things that are asking a question of someone, or bringing it back to them, and not really focusing on what they said,” she says. Depending on the circumstances, however, she might also put a sassier spin on her retort: “That joke wasn’t funny the first time I heard it.”

“Do you know what it’s like to live with ___?”

Once, when Neas was at Sunday school with her daughter, a boy with autism took his mom on stage for a children's program. The woman sitting behind Neas made a snide remark about the boy's reliance on his “mommy.” So Neas turned around and informed the woman that the boy had autism. “This parent looked at me just horrified, and it was because she got caught being smug and unkind," she recalls. "She probably had no idea what it took for that kid to be on the stage.”

The experience inspired one of Neas’ go-to responses in similar situations: asking people if they have any idea what it’s like to live with a certain disability. That way, "you're not automatically reaching the assumption that this person’s a jerk,” she says. “I try to assume the best in people I don't know. You want to give them information first,” before making a snap judgment. Ideally, calling them out in a gentle way will encourage them to reflect on their behavior, and to think twice about what they say in the future.

“I’m going to assume that came from a place of ignorance.”

Lachi—a popular performer who’s the Grammys board governor, as well as the host of the PBS show Renegades—was born legally blind. She’s encountered everything from misguided but well-intentioned curiosity about her disability to bullies and know-it-alls who ask her where her glasses are. For a long time, she did everything she could to hide her blindness: “Sometimes you don't want to deal with the ableism, the comments, the stigma, the being ignored,” she says. “I just literally hid my disability, and therefore, I wasn't performing my best in the studio or at concerts, because I wasn't asking for accommodations.”

These days, Lachi gets around with a “glammed up” cane—and she’s built up an arsenal of quips to deploy when someone makes her feel bad about her disability. One of her favorites is letting the other person know that she interprets their comments as coming from a place of ignorance. “It’s either that or a place or arrogance, and I can't assume that someone is just being a bad person,” she says. Depending how they respond, she might then fill them in on the right way to talk about a disability: “It’s like, ‘Let me arm you with what we do say.’”

“Yikes! Is that really who you are?”

If you’re shocked by the words that just rolled out of someone's mouth, let them know. Lachi considers this comeback an effective way to trigger self-reflection and, hopefully, change. Often, she’s found, it’s a wake-up call for people who hadn’t previously given their language much thought. She delivers it in a lighthearted tone—“we can’t get people from 0 to 100 by going ‘how dare you’”—and stresses that giving them grace allows them to grow.

"Actually, saying things like that is harmful to the disability community."

If Lachi is having a conversation with a friend, and they use a well-meaning euphemism like “able-bodied” to refer to someone who doesn’t have a disability, she calls it out. That type of language is “patronizing,” she says, and doesn’t capture the nuances of people’s situations. Lots of people she knows have a disability but also have strong, capable bodies; Lachi, for example, can run a 5-minute mile. “I’m an able-bodied person who identifies as a person with a disability,” she says. If you’re talking about someone with a disability, stick to the facts, using language like “someone who has a disability.”

Not everyone is aware of these preferences, however. So how else would they learn without being told? Lachi might add: “It’s cool, but I just want you to know so next time you’re armed with this knowledge.” “Generally people are grateful,” she says. “They know it’s coming from a place of trying to help them out.” Worst-case? She disengages and doesn't waste any more energy on a fight she isn't going to win.

“We don't use words like that anymore—just in case you didn't get the memo.”

Lachi employs this retort a lot; she enjoys the record-scratch reaction it creates. “Everybody stops, and it’s like the telenovela camera zooms in on both faces,” she says. It’s feisty, she acknowledges, but a little sass can work well in situations like this. It tends to do the trick—people usually don’t repeat their mistakes.

“This isn't the first time you've said something like this, and I want to be clear that it isn't OK with me or in my house.”

If you’re dealing with a repeat offender, it’s best to be direct. Let the person know that if they continue speaking in a disparaging way about people with disabilities, they won’t be welcome in your home anymore, suggests Lindsay Piper, a disability rights advocate in Bothell, Wash. “It’s clear, to the point, and makes it obvious that what they said isn't OK,” she says. Calling someone out can be difficult, she acknowledges, especially if they're a friend or family member, so Piper recommends reminding yourself that you’re doing the right thing. That can help motivate you to stand your ground.

“We win when we include.”

It rarely works to confront a situation with your fists up, reacting from an emotional place, VanSkiver has learned. “You don't get anywhere pointing fingers," she says. Instead, aim to disarm and inform—and to be intentional about when you engage. In the past, when she spoke without thinking, she later regretted it, and says her words didn't help her daughter. That’s why she now sees every conversation as an opportunity to promote acceptance. “We win when we include,” she likes to tell people. “That goes for socially, that goes for emotionally, that goes for economically.”

11 Ways to Respond When Someone Insults a Loved One’s Disability