It’s a scenario that plays out far too often. A visibly disabled person approaches a counter, be it a bank, a doctor’s office, a grocery store, or a restaurant, and before they can get a word in, the employee turns… not to them, but to the person beside them.
The irony? That “other” person might be a support worker, a friend, a spouse, or a stranger who just happens to be nearby. They may be abled, or they might not be. But in that moment, they become the assumed communicator, the proxy, the default.
It doesn’t matter if the disabled person is the one holding the card, asking the question, or signing with clear intent. If they use a mobility aid, are blind or low-vision, deaf or hard of hearing, or speak with an accent or assistive device, they’re often treated as invisible, or as if they’re not fully capable of communicating on their own behalf.
This phenomenon doesn’t only affect disabled people. It also affects anyone who uses an interpreter, be it for a spoken language barrier or for access, like ASL or tactile sign language. But for those of us who are disabled, the assumption often runs deeper. It’s a mix of ableism and social conditioning that says: This person isn’t fully here. Talk to someone who is.
Real Examples, Real Impact
- A Deaf woman using a sign language interpreter is asked a question, but the employee talks directly to the interpreter, not to her.
- A blind man at a bank is spoken about in third person while standing right there.
- A wheelchair user is out shopping with their partner, and every question, from “Is that everything today?” to “Credit or debit?” is directed to the partner instead.
- A person with a speech disorder is cut off mid-sentence by someone asking, *”Do they need help?”
Every one of these moments chips away at autonomy. It reinforces the idea that a disabled person is an object of care, not an individual to be engaged.
How This Feels
It’s humiliating. Demeaning. Frustrating. And deeply tiring. Because the reality is: most disabled people are used to advocating for themselves. And we shouldn’t have to work twice as hard to simply be heard.
When your voice is erased—whether literally or metaphorically, it sends a message: You don’t matter enough to address directly.
What Needs to Change
This issue isn’t just about manners. It’s about dignity and respect. And it’s about breaking ableist habits that are so ingrained, many people don’t even realize they’re doing harm.
So here’s a simple rule:
If you’re talking to someone who is disabled, talk TO THEM. Always.
If there’s an interpreter, look at the person you’re speaking to. If someone has a speech delay or uses an AAC device, give them time to respond. If someone is blind or Deaf or uses a mobility aid, assume competence.
Don’t make assumptions. Don’t bypass. Don’t diminish.
Inclusion isn’t just about building ramps or having braille menus or captioning videos. It’s about how we show up for one another in everyday interaction.
And often, that starts with the simplest, most powerful act: eye contact, respect, and conversation.