A few years ago, I was standing in the lobby of my San Francisco office just before 5pm, shifting my weight from one foot to the other to avoid putting too much stress on either of my knees or hips, waiting for a Lyft to take me home. Typically I would drive down to the Peninsula to work, but on Thursdays I would commute to the city office for team meetings and events. I much preferred driving, mainly because I have had a number of bad experiences on public transit, but because parking in SoMa is either expensive or nonexistent, I would compromise by taking a cramped and crowded bus ride through the city in the mornings, and then splurging on a Lyft ride home, just to avoid navigating the hell that was afternoon rush hour. The $5-$10 was well worth not having to deal with people tripping over my cane while I stared longingly at the blue bus seats I never felt comfortable enough to ask for, even though I knew standing for that long was going to wreak havoc on my legs for days.
A friend of mine approached me while I shifted and paced in the lobby and asked if I was planning to join a group of associates that was heading to a nearby bar for happy hour.
“It sounds fun,” I told him, “but I’m pretty tired today. I think I’m just going to head home.”
“Oh. That’s lame.”
I looked down pointedly at the cane I was leaning on for support.
“Interesting word choice.”
To his credit, he immediately retracted and apologized. But this was far from an isolated incident.
Lame is a common enough term that even the most “woke” websites and bloggers will use it in their regular language, articles, and posts. Every single time I see it in print or hear it thrown out in casual conversation, my stomach turns a bit. These are people who I know are otherwise politically aware, culturally sensitive, and careful with their word choice. They would never use a racist or homophobic epithet, so why do ableist words seem to get a pass?
First a quick primer on ableism: as racism is to race, ableism is discrimination against disabled people, in favor of able-bodied people. This can take the form of lack of equal opportunities, inaccessibility, word choice, bias, prejudice, and more. Ableism is stairs with no ramps, it is construction crews and delivery vans parking sideways across blue spaces, it is healthcare companies refusing to cover those with pre-existing conditions, and it is calling someone or something you don’t like “lame.”
To be completely clear, lame is a slur. There are countless others out there, but this word in particular seems to be forgiven or forgotten more than any others.
The primary dictionary definition is “having a body part and especially a limb so disabled as to impair freedom of movement.” A few definitions down, it’s defined as slang for “square, inferior, or contemptible.” Originally, this first definition was the only one. Society eventually moved on to other problematic terms such as “handicapped,” but only once “lame” started to colloquially be used to describe anything negative.
That day in San Francisco, my friend’s word choice was poor, but might have been fitting were it not a slur. In addition to the fact that I had a cane with me that day — mainly due to the fact that I need it while riding the bus for stability and to make my disability more visible to my fellow commuters— I also opted not to join my friends at the bar because I knew how crowded it could get for a Thursday night happy hour. Lack of guaranteed seating or open walkways makes for an incredibly inaccessible venue.
But this is not an article about inaccessibility — I’ve written about that elsewhere plenty enough. This is an article about how I am exhausted from hearing this slur casually thrown around by nearly everyone I know. Other words have phased out as people have become more and more aware, but for some reason, this one has pervaded as a one-syllable gut punch. Someone’s Postmates delivery showed up late? “Lame.” The boring party someone gets coerced into attending? “Lame.” Trump’s latest Twitter scandal? “Lame.”
Words have meaning. When you say the disappointing things in your life are “lame,” you’re putting them on par with my own ability level. You’re telling me, in so many ways, that I’m disappointing and not good enough. I hear enough from politicians, pundits, and boomer op-ed authors day-in and day-out that my status as a queer, disabled, woman of color is a drain on society. I don’t need to hear it from the people who are supposed to be on my side, from those who otherwise “get it.”
There are millions of words out there. Instead of a slur, try saying what you really mean. “This is frustrating.” “That party wasn’t fun at all.” “This political climate is a nightmare.”
And don’t get me started on how your anxiety or student loan debt is “crippling” you. Unless you’re actually disabled, find a different word.
