Lately, there has been a lot of discussion in the news about disabilities and the employment of people with disabilities. Some claims suggest that severely disabled individuals are being hired for jobs they are incapable of performing. However, these statements often reflect a misunderstanding of what “severely disabled” actually means in a professional or educational context.
Disabilities exist on a spectrum, from mild to severe. When educators or disability advocates use the term “severely disabled,” they are referring to how much a condition impacts a person’s ability to navigate daily life—not necessarily their intelligence or overall capabilities.
I have moderate dyslexia and severe dysgraphia. Dysgraphia impacts fine motor skills severely impacts my handwriting (dysgraphia). My dyslexia is considered mild to moderate I have been reading on a post-secondary level since about 5th grade. However, my ability to write by hand is significantly impaired. It is physically painful for me to write, That does not mean I am incapable of functioning in a job; in fact, many individuals with dyslexia test above average in intelligence.
My father was a polio survivor. He contracted polio between 18 – 24 months old and his legs were paralyzed. He learned to walk using braces and crutches, which meant he had a severe disability due to its impact on his daily life. Despite this, he had an incredibly high IQ, testing close to the genius range. However, before disability protections were widely recognized, he struggled to attend school because he couldn’t access classrooms. The school was not inclined to make accommodations, so he was often left behind.
As an adult, my dad worked as a radio DJ. He had an amazing bass voice. Yet, he was repeatedly let go from jobs—not because he wasn’t good at his work, but because he was deemed to need the job “less than a regular man.” Employers cut his hours or outright refused to hire him because he was disabled, even though his disability had no impact on his ability to perform as a DJ.
I grew up in a different era, one where schools were beginning to be legally required to accommodate students with disabilities. While I did not always receive the help I needed, I was still able to perform at or above grade level in most subjects, with the exception of handwriting and spelling. Technology, such as computers, leveled the playing field for me. Unlike my father, I had legal protections under the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA), which allowed me access to tools that enabled me to work effectively.
However, even with these protections, barriers remain. While working for a state agency, I requested a simple accommodation: access to a printer and ink cartridge so I could type my notes instead of handwriting them. My request was denied, even though there was a printer in my office. This same agency also decided that things like tape, pens, notepads, toilet paper and paper towels were not needed by the staff.
This is why recognizing disabilities and offering accommodations matters. Without the ADA, I—and many others—would be unable to fully contribute in professional settings. Accommodations are not about giving an unfair advantage; they are about providing a fair opportunity to compete. My dad was denied opportunities not because he lacked skill, but because employers assumed his disability made him less valuable.
Recognizing disabilities and implementing inclusive practices isn’t about lowering standards—it’s about ensuring that talented, capable individuals have the chance to compete on an even playing field. A society that values all of its members benefits from the unique talents and perspectives that diversity brings.
The Dee Zone 