Overcoming ableism: what you don't know as an able-bodied person | Naty Rico | TEDxUCIrvine

Naty Rico shares her story of struggles at UC Irvine over the past three years and the hopes she has for the future.

Naty Rico is a third year sociology and education double major. She was born and raised in South Los Angeles to parents who immigrated here from Mexico. As a first generation Latina woman with a physical disability, Naty managed to get accepted and enroll into UCI in 2012 with the help of her community back home.

While her three years at UCI have not been easy, Naty has managed to overcome structural barriers and has become an advocate for the differently abled community. After she graduates and receives her Bachelors from UCI, Naty hopes to enroll in grad school and continue doing work focused on the differently able community. She plans on obtaining a Ph.D. in sociology or education, with an emphasis in disability studies, and giving back to the community that helped her get to where she is and is supportive of where she's headed.

This talk was given at a TEDx event using the TED conference format but independently organized by a local community. Learn more at http://ted.com/tedx

It was September of 2011
when I sat in the yellow room

with walls full of
college brochures and flyers.

I sat in front of the computer

while staff helped other students
in other parts of the room.

I began to fill out the UC application

and referred to a thick binder
I had in front of me.

It had my transcripts, volunteer hours,
awards and test scores.

As I fill everything out,

I began to check all of the boxes
that pertain to me and my identities.

While scrolling,

I check the box for first generation
Chicano Latino, woman

and my socioeconomic status.

One thing I notice, though,

is that my ability status
wasn't asked in that category.

I started thinking about how schools
would find out about my disability.

They had to find out somehow;
I need resources and guidance.

I worried about how I would
navigate campus and live on my own.

My diverse ability,

a term used to embrace
talents and abilities

rather than to highlight inabilities,

was not recognized as a form of identity

mainly because people simply view it

as an unfortunate situation
that people go through.

Although my other identities
were accounted for

because of the boxes that I checked,

I realized my other identity as a person
with a diverse ability was being ignored.

It was in this moment when I realized

that not all intersectionalities
are being accounted for,

and in doing so, we prevent
certain people from thriving.

To me, intersectionality
boils down to acknowledging

all of the identities
that make up a person together

rather than independently.

Because of my identity
as a diversable person

was not being accounted for,

I had a lot of words of what my life
was going to look like

for the next four years.

Now, I'm not ignoring my other identities.

I do identify

as a first generation, low income,
Latina woman with a diverse ability.

Today though, I'd like to share
with you my journey at UCI

through my diverse ability

and how much it has taught me

about the importance
of acknowledging intersectionalities.

My first year was
a roller coaster of emotions.

I feared not having what it takes
to graduate from UCI

because of my background
as a low income Latina,

but nevertheless,
I try to make the best of it.

I was also excited about starting my life.

This excitement quickly turned into fear

when I realized that I was having
a hard time navigating through campus.

I had a hard time carrying
my tray with food at Commons,

our dining hall,

and the excruciating pain
I felt on my back when I did laundry

made me want to drop out.

The worst was when I would trip
on cracks on the floors,

especially walking uphill,

and the pain I felt on my knee
every time I would reopen the wound -

it really made me want to drop out.

Until that point,

my disability had never gotten in the way
of anything that I wanted to accomplish.

I never thought
I'd even make it into a UC,

and now my standing was being jeopardized
because of my diverse ability.

It wasn't until the organization
that I'm a member of back home,

called Kid City Hope Place -

which has nothing to do with helping
people with diverse abilities -

was able to outreach to their networks

and found a power scooter
that a family was willing to donate.

This was the year I began advocating
for the diversable community,

thanks to the help
of upperclassman mentors.

It was because of them that I realized
the power of student voices,

and I ended that year in hopeful terms
of what the future could bring.

Now, despite the challenges
I faced my first year,

my second year has actually been
the worst year of my undergraduate career.

School at that point was very demanding,

and I didn't realize I was experiencing
mental health problems

until much later in the year.

I was on academic probation,
and my living conditions were a challenge.

I hated my daily commute
on my scooter to campus,

which was approximately
one and a half miles,

but when it was cold and raining,
that's when the struggle was real.

Unfortunately, I couldn't
ride the shuttles

because of the inaccessibility
with their ramps

and the size of my power scooter

being too big.

It's through these struggles
that I became more aware of ableism,

which is the way society is structured
to favor able-bodied people,

therefore excluding
those with diverse abilities.

Not only is it reflected
in our physical environment

but also in our interactions
with those with diverse abilities.

It's reflective in the way
people interact towards me.

I had people joke around

and ask me for a ride on my scooter
while commuting home,

and it's remarks like these
that affected my whole week.

I had a very hard time
pulling through that year.

Before my third year even started,

I had doubts of returning to UCI

since I wasn't having
a favorable experience.

I had a hard time finding affordable
and accessible housing.

And when I was given my apartment,
it had a six-inch front doorstep.

It basically served
as a wall for a wheelchair.

Regardless of that,
I made it work and I returned.

The first week,
while at an event at our gym,

I had the pleasant experience of hearing
a girl riding the elevator with me

as she questioned the existence
of an elevator at the gym,

since, in her words, the point of the gym
was to workout and take the stairs.

And I guess if you can't take the stairs,
you don't have the ability to work out.

She said this all while
she was inside of the elevator

while watching me in there with my crutch.

At that point, I wonder
what helped me decide to return,

and I realized it was
the community that I had here.

It was with their help
that I began to see changes on campus.

Together, we worked
on the Bus Love referendum

that has increased the cart services
offered by the Disability Service Center.

I've also been invited to give workshops
on ableism all throughout campus.

I even auditioned
to give a TEDxUCIrvine talk,

and we all know how that turned out.

(Laughter)

I still have some time here, though,

and I know I can do more
for the diversable community.

The strength I have to push through
with everything I experienced,

I owe it all to my parents,

who struggled to get me where I am.

In fifth grade,

I remember my mom struggling
to help me with my homework.

If she couldn't help me
with my fifth grade homework,

there was no way she'd be able
to help me with college preparation.

She would go around
the whole neighborhood,

looking for people to help me
with my math homework.

Even though she was unable to help me,
that did not mean she didn't support me.

My parents' support is what got me
through accepting myself

in pushing forward with my education,

support that I often
failed to see elsewhere.

When I was younger,

I also remember her
pushing my wheelchair down the street

while taking my brother in a baby backpack

to take the public bus every other day

just so we could make it
to physical therapy appointments.

Had she not done that,
I would have remained wheelchair bound.

Despite the inner-city struggles
we were victims of,

the lack of resources they were unaware of

and their foreign concept
of higher education,

the acceptance, hard work
and tenacity my parents showed

is what pushed me to continue
through this very day.

Living with a diverse ability has come
with its fair share of challenges,

and the fact

that I'm a first generation,
low income Latina

also play a role

in the experiences and struggles
I've gone throughout my life.

These experiences and struggles
are not unique to who I am

but also prevalent in the lives of people

with diverse abilities
and intersectionalities.

This is why we as a society
should recognize

that all intersectionality
should be accounted for

and not one more so than the other.

I know at this point, perhaps some of you
may be feeling sorry for me

and the struggles that I've endured,

but feeling sorry
won't solve these issues.

Awareness and advocacy are the key,

from being considerate
of push buttons on the doors,

saving seats in the edge of class
for people with diverse abilities,

or if you want to go bigger,

bringing awareness campaigns
to your campuses or workforce

in order to create more inclusive spaces.

Before I leave UCI,

I hope to continue bringing
enough awareness about this

to show that we need to increase
the number of people

with diverse abilities in higher education

and take into consideration

of how intersectionalities
affect the members in our communities.

One year ago, I was
on the brink of dropping out

with the frustrations,

helplessness and loneliness
that I felt through ableism.

Now, I stand before you,
or in this case, sit before you,

stronger than ever before,

with the hopes of paving the bumps
and the cracks on the floors

to provide a smoother ride
for future generations.

Thank you.

(Applause) (Cheers)