“Having a diagnosis suddenly changed people’s beliefs in my capability”, says Megan Bent, a 38-year-old disabled artist and photographer based in West Hartford, Connecticut.

She often recalls the feeling of being newly diagnosed to channel into her pieces, preferring a camera with “imperfect” qualities to achieve what she describes as a “slow photographic process that highlights the natural reality of uncertainty.”

However, the act of embracing and repurposing flaws was not something that came naturally to Bent – it was the product of understanding her own ableism. The concept of ableism can be difficult to unpack, as it is a term that encases the discrimination and societal view placed upon people with disabilities, and is also something that is commonly internalized. Though recognizing these behaviours is a complicated process, it’s something Bent is still committed to today.

When first immersed into the disabled community, Bent began struggling with the judgments cast on her body. Like many, she felt the need to keep up with a non-disabled world.

“I worked really hard to hide my disability and was terrified of anyone finding out,” says Bent.

It was initially a Disability Studies course that began to reverse this thinking for Bent, allowing her to dismantle expectation and acknowledge aspects of her life that took on a slower pace, akin to the process behind her artwork.

Ironically, It’s the academic setting that especially makes many disabled people feel the need to overcompensate. Sure, the average student is no stranger to the odd all-nighter or the heaviness of maintaining their GPA, helping them feel validated. But to a large portion of people with disabilities, their performance equates to more than a simple letter grade – It’s a test they will conduct on themselves, seeing if they measure up to an abled-bodied standard.

Sarah Bondy, now 37, remembers the impact this notion had on her while she was attempting to navigate her studies. Although it has been quite some time since she graduated, Bondy easily sourced similar feelings when reflecting on her time as a disabled student.

“In school, I was always the high achiever,” says Bondy “I always got high marks and I was on the honor roll in high school multiple times. I always felt that I had to prove that I was smart and capable because even at my young age I could see that people had and still have assumptions about people with disabilities.”

She goes on to note “I think what I was taught about success was skewed in my early years,” adding “I still struggle with this concept sadly. I know it’s because of my internalized ableism.”

Empathizing with the students who came before her, Jessica Karim looks toward a societal shift to take productivity off of the pedestal.

“I think that we need to be more open and accepting as a society. So much of our worth is determined by what we can or cannot accomplish. I think that it makes us as disabled people feel less validated because sometimes, we just cannot do things.” she says.

The 20-year-old New Yorker and Social Work student shows we still have a long way to go.

“Growing up, I was taught that to be successful I had to make myself as good as a sighted person.” says Karim.

“I have been totally blind since birth. I find that I must compensate for my disability all the time. I am the first generation, my parents emigrated here from Guyana right before I was born. Growing up I always felt like I had to do everything exactly right.” she explains.

The need for Karim to prove herself not only because of her blindness but because of her family’s background has always accompanied her. This not only affects Karim in her studies but in her everyday life.

“I view imperfections with so much more scrutiny than abled-bodied people. If I mess up or drop or spill something, I automatically think that people will think less of me.” Karim admits.

Conversations like these are long overdue, and the journey of unlearning is sure to be a long one, but Bent, Bondy, and Karim all present the same message- now more than ever, it is time to see the person before their productivity.