It happened 53 years ago, when the parents of a little, black girl in Topeka, Kansas decided that they wanted their daughter to attend a predominately, white neighborhood school. Even though Brown, a black - third grader, lived only seven blocks away from a white elementary school, she was unable to attend. Instead, she had to walk one mile away from her home, in order to attend her predominately black school.
Outraged and rightfully so, Linda’s father, Oliver Brown, attempted to enroll his daughter in the mostly white school; however, due to the color of her skin, she was still not admitted. Oliver immediately turned to Thurgood Marshall and the NAACP for legal assistance. Marshall, a black attorney, had taken on the government before, but not in this magnitude. With the NAACP on his side and with the support of 12 other parents who wanted their children to attend the mostly white school, Marshall filed a class action suit against the Board of Education of Topeka, Kansas.
Needless to say, on May 17, 1954, the U.S. Supreme Court unanimously ruled in favor of Marshall, citing that “separate but equal” was unconstitutional. This ruling, not only opened the door of education for a little girl in Topeka, Kansas, but it put a wedge in the door for women, the differently-able, as well as other minorities. Furthermore, this piece of legislation set the stage for integrating minorities into main stream educational institutions everywhere.
The mention of the Brown v. Board of Education case serves as critical backdrop when discussing the parallelism between being culturally defined as “Black”, in the mid 1950s, and one who is considered “disabled” in today’s society. Borrowing from (Evevelles 2005) article, “Understanding curriculum as normalizing text: disability studies meet curriculum theory”, my attempt in the reflection is to wield the giant spotlight of attention to issues of exclusion and invisibility surrounding the untold and overtly neglected story of disabled studies in curriculum. It appears that the spotlight has not been shown upon disabled citizens. Moreover, these individuals and their issues are often lost in the shadows of the spotlight. Even worse, if not intentionally, mainstream society has left this minority group out of its’ literature, Block- buster movies, television commercials, and most hurtful, out of its’ view.
As an African American male, I often hear my white friends say to me, “Johnny, when I look at you, I do not see color.” I know what they are saying, however, I know that this statement is not completely true; neither do I want it to be. This kind of “not seeing” is what prevents individuals from asking deeper questions and seeking understanding about that in which they do not know. Castenell and Pinar (1993:4) contend that ‘we are what we know. We are, however, what we do not know.’ For this reason, I believe society chooses not to acknowledge these differences, mainly out of fear. Also, it is a suspicion of mine and according to (Murphy 1987) “the able- bodied community, when looking at the differently-able community is reminded of the suffering and inequities and that they live in a counterfeit paradise. They, too, are vulnerable.”
Instead, of embracing those inherent differences, many have chosen the route of invisibility or this act of “non seeing”. However, just as my friends can’t help but to see my black skin and become aware of the different narrative it tells, so must able-bodied society also acknowledge and seek to understand the differently-able. This business of omission and exclusion of the disabled population must cease. The differently able can’t be put into a category or social division that keeps them from participating as value, contributing citizens of society. Gone, and rightfully so, are the days and attitudes of disabled citizens when they(disabled citizens) would take the governmental aids such as social services, social security, and welfare payments in exchange for a “bribe of silence.”
In closing, just as Linda Brown’s parents did in a battle for equality and justice, so likewise researchers, leaders, and classroom facilitators must give a voice of justice to the physically, mentally, and emotionally oppressed, which are deemed as differently able or in today’s vernacular “at risk”. Moreover, educators must explore alternative ways to support and value differently able citizens. As a Critical Theorist, I am advocating for a curriculum that embraces“pedagogy of discomfort” and that will foster hope and support for the marginalized, while in turn, encourages understanding and consideration from those in dominant roles. Only then, will our society see the disabled as social worthy citizens.
Johnny Smith
Cohort 16