Frances Ryan on the Importance of Media For and By Disabled Women

Words: Ione Gamble

In 2019, before a worldwide pandemic further polarised how many of the public consider their own and other people’s health, Frances Ryan released her first book - Crippled: Austerity and the Demonization of Disabled People. The investigative text from the Guardian columnist detailed the many ways that politicians and the media have made disabled people the scapegoat for cuts to public spending, raised taxes and the reason that austerity needed to happen. 

Six years later, Ryan returns with her sophomore book, Who Wants Normal? The Disabled Girls’ Guide to Life. The manifesto is the perfect follow up to her previous title, weaving memoir, statistics and interviews with over fifty disabled people, primarily women, on their experiences, beliefs and future hopes for navigating the different parts of life that are especially difficult to traverse when disabled. (Read: all of them.)

The climate for compassion towards disabled people has only gotten darker in the time between these books being released. Even in the weeks leading up to the publish date, the labour government - who only got into power nine months ago - announced cuts to disability benefits that will drastically lower the quality of life for a large majority of the disabled community. 

In the face of ever worsening news cycles, dark sided social media trends and physical exclusions for disabled people, Ryan’s book shines bright as a beacon of solidarity. Who Wants Normal? isn’t a list of all the horrible things we experience for others to consume without actioning upon, but a matter of fact analysis of life and a show of community for our peers. 

The final sentence of the introduction to Who Wants Normal? beautifully summarises Ryan’s sentiment for her second book - “In a society that greets disability with low expectations or outright prejudice, and demands perfection from the mess of modern existence, I will share a secret: it is entirely possible to be happy and fulfilled and disabled or sick, and to proudly carve out your own path. Who wants normal anyway?” Below, I speak to Ryan about putting together a manifesto, including herself in the narrative and community solidarity.

What made you want to write a manifesto?

I wanted to write something that created a sense of community, knowledge and optimism for disabled women, who are still so often excluded and stereotyped. The funny thing about being disabled is that you can go your whole life without ever knowingly meeting someone like you. In most cases, your family won’t have your condition. There’s no bars or safe spaces to help you meet others. And then you look to the media and there’s typically no one there who represents your life either. Instead, there’s constant messaging that what you are is ugly or shameful or a burden. It can be incredibly isolating and damaging. 

Then on top of that, disabled women are expected to navigate our lives - from school to careers to healthcare - without any sort of blueprint or practical guidance. That’s why I wrote a manifesto, or just a massive book because I’m not running for office. To give readers a chance to see their lives reflected in mainstream culture and be surrounded by brilliant disabled women, even if it’s just on a page for a while. 

How did you decide what topics to tackle? The book is so wide ranging yet, for me at least, there was something relatable across all topics.

That’s so lovely to hear, thank you. I designed the book’s structure so that each chapter - from school to careers to body image - are parts of life that pretty much every woman goes through but are rarely spoken about through the lens of disability. We talk about the gender pay gap but how often do you hear about the disability gender pay gap? We hear about confidence around our appearance but what about our confidence with mobility aids? In that way, choosing the topics was easy. They are the things all of us live but if you’re a disabled woman don’t really get mentioned.

The book does an amazing job of blending facts with personal experience - and using facts in a way that doesn’t seem ‘well that's obvious’ to other disabled people but rather affirms their experiences. What was the one fact or figure that stood out most to you when writing the book?

Just 5 per cent of people in the UK who aren’t disabled have ever asked out, or been on a date with, a disabled person, according to research by Scope. Which is wild, right? That figure may be slightly affected by some people not disclosing their disability or others not realising invisible conditions count but even with that in mind, it’s still a ludicrous statistic. 5%! It makes me worry more men have asked out an AI girlfriend than a wheelchair user. I guess one of those is socially unacceptable.

What did you learn from speaking to the books contributing voices?

I learnt so much from speaking to the contributors - about different disabilities and the way they’re impacted by different backgrounds - but I think it was actually hearing from them about things I did already have an experience of that was oddly the most revelatory. It was a rare thing to be able to speak to other disabled women, hear their stories, and think, “Wow, I get that. That’s happened to me too.” I hope that’s exactly how readers will feel when they see the book.

It can sometimes seem impossible to engage non-disabled people in stories of / to care about disability - why do you think this is? And does it even matter? Or is it more important to you to speak to disabled people / women in particular.

Whether it’s coronavirus or benefit cuts, I think disabled people are very used to what I would call tumbleweed treatment from non-disabled people, even in progressive lefty circles. The reasons are obviously complex but I think it’s partly a reflection of how segregated disabled people still are from society. If non-disabled people don’t see you in pubs or offices, or anyone but the stereotypical “visible disabled person”, it’s easy to become a fixed “other” they rarely acknowledge exists let alone deserves the same rights and opportunities as them.

I think it is also because disability is uniquely seen as being kind of well, icky and miserable. You see plenty of straight people at Pride (including me) but I can’t imagine many non-disabled people turn up to a disability pride event. I don’t think many non-disabled people even know there are such things as disability pride events. Sometimes, I just want to focus on disabled people and our needs and wants. Other times, it feels hugely important to use smart arguments to bring in non-disabled allies. I tried to do both with this book.

What would you love people to take away having read the book?

I think one thing I’ve learnt as a writer, particularly one from a marginalised group, is that - whilst books really are just books - they can be a uniquely valuable way to connect to others, particularly if you’re isolated by disability. It is possible to be convinced that you’re the only person in the world who has ever been through this or felt these things and then see it on a page and realise you are not. To discover that you are not actually alone. And that how you exist in the world - how you look, move, talk - is not this shameful oddity but something mainstream and a bit gorgeous, actually. If Who Wants Normal? can help anyone feel a little better on a hard day, I’ll be very happy.

Who Wants Normal? is out now, buy your copy here.