To say that the Philippines has left persons with disabilities underserved is an understatement. Infrastructures for accessibility, whether it’s structures like ramps or affordable healthcare, are sorely lacking. Support for persons living with disabilities so that they can study and work are limited—even for those more privileged than others.

These are symptoms of an ableist society, which excludes people with disabilities because they are believed to be inferior, or that they need to be “fixed” to function.

Reinforcing that mindset is our language: Consciously or not, slurs in both Filipino and English put forward the notion that people with disabilities are less than or should be “othered.”

To learn about how to speak with more respect and sensitivity, Scout chatted with Krissy Bisda, an HR consultant with a visual disability who advocates for inclusion in the workplace.

“Language is one of the basic entry points for changing culture,” she says. Here are a few pointers to get started on inclusive language—a reminder worth revisiting especially today, the International Day of Persons with Disabilities.

Person first before disability

Bisda subscribes to the movement of using person-first language, where the person is put ahead of the characteristic.

“Its goal is not to beautify but to give respect to the person, where their distinct characteristic from the general population doesn’t define them,” Bisda says. “It’s a small part of themselves that doesn’t define who they are or what they can become.”

“Its goal is not to beautify but to give respect to the person, where their distinct characteristic from the general population doesn’t define them,” Bisda says.

She prefers “persons with disability” rather than “disabled persons,” for example.

There are other communities with disability who prefer identity-first language, like the Deaf community, including the Filipino Deaf (yes, the D is capitalized). The Deaf have their own set of terms to properly represent their community. For example, “deaf-mute” is deemed wrong because the Deaf do have a voice box, so they literally are not mute.

Bisda points out that person-first language can apply to speaking about other marginalized groups too. Rather than say “HIV-infected,” use “person living with HIV.”

The deal with slurs

A clear sign of why we need to change our language on disability is a number of slurs in our lexicon. They usually come up as jokes in daily convo, and while there may be no ill intention, using them can normalize the mindset that having a disability is dehumanizing.

“We want to promote more respectful terms while transitioning into a more inclusive society. We cannot get rid of labeling people. I guess we should correct the labeling [rather] than stop it,” says Bisda.

Mental health concerns

Filipinos tend to use “baliw,” “sira-ulo,” and “maluwag ang turnilyo niyan” to describe someone as crazy, dismissing the mental health issues they may have.

We can lessen the stigma around mental health by saying “people with psychosocial disabilities,” says Bisda. Other recommended terms are “persons using psychiatric services,” “users of counseling programs,” and “users of therapies.”

“Why psychosocial? It is the interaction of their mental health concerns to the environment,” she explains, and this can be a barrier to social inclusion. Saying “users of therapies,” meanwhile, signals that they “use the programs to help themselves.”

Physical disabilities

Persons with physical disabilities are usually mocked through the visible characteristics they have.

For “ngongo,” it’s more respectful to say “taong nahihirapan magsalita” or “person with speech disability,” advises Bisda.

If a person has a limp or uses a wheelchair, use terms like “person with mobility difficulties,” “person using crutches,” or “wheelchair user.”

Avoid using “wheelchair-bound,” which makes it seem like the person is imprisoned because of their condition. “[The] wheelchair is an assistive device or an aid,” Bisda explains. “[The user] is the master, not the wheelchair.”

When it comes to vision impairment, use “may kapansanan sa paningin” or “person with visual disability/low vision,” or “person with total blindness.”

Bisda would rather not be called “blind” or “bulag,” though others might accept it. When in doubt, ask.

Learning disabilities

People with learning disabilities tend to be misunderstood because they learn at a different pace or manner compared to the traditional way.

It’s about time we retired “retarded” or “ang hina ng utak.” Bisda says the more appropriate terms are “persons with learning disability” or “persons with intellectual disability.”

“Mukha kang mongoloid” tends to be thrown as an insult, as if there is something wrong with having a genetic disorder. In the Down syndrome community, using “persons with Down syndrome” is acceptable.

Be the change

The bottomline here is empathy. Even if you don’t have a disability, you would want to be treated—and talked about—with kindness.

If you want to correct a friend who’s using a slur, Bisda advises that you can tell them they don’t know what the person is going through. Try explaining: “There’s diversity in the ways we learn things or understand things,” or “Maybe they need time alone; don’t call them ‘krung krung.’

The bottomline here is empathy. Even if you don’t have a disability, you would want to be treated—and talked about—with kindness.

And while words do have power, more than being politically correct, the main goal is that the culture evolves from being ableist to being inclusive of marginalized groups.

Bisda experienced this herself in Australia, which she says subscribes to the social model of disability.

“The goal is not to change you or your disability but the barriers hindering [you]. When you remove the barriers, the person will flourish and become successful,” she explains.

To navigate Manila, she constantly needs a trusted companion. She says this reflects the “dominant” ways we view disability in the country: that her eyesight should be fixed, that those like her are set to have limited lives, or are helpless without supervision.

“The goal is not to change you or your disability but the barriers hindering [you]. When you remove the barriers, the person will flourish and become successful,” she explains.

But in Australia, she was able to study, do the grocery, and spend time with friends on her own. “Nakakita ba ako doon?” (Was I suddenly able to see?) she quips. Because of how she was treated there—“fully respected and recognized”—she minded less how she was called. Systems in place for accessibility and people’s actions showed her that she mattered.

To change our culture, Bisda advises, “Start it with yourself. When it’s a collective, it becomes a culture.”