Plain Language

By Ashley Poling

I started working on the Disability Experience Expert Panel (DEEP) about eight years ago. Before I joined, I wasn’t involved in advocacy. I had just left an abusive relationship, so I didn’t have a lot of self-confidence. I was just in a box. I had my walls up and didn’t want to try anything. I was just going through the motions, going to work, seeing family. My mom found the opportunity to join DEEP on social media and said I should try it. It ended up teaching me the self-advocacy and communication skills I needed, and it’s even been helpful in my job.

Plain language should be part of everyday life. I work in a national retail store, and some of the signs the company sends us to put at the end of display aisles are not in clear language. So sometimes I have to piece it together to make it work.

Self-advocacy and plain language are both so important, especially in health care. My mom is a nurse, so I know a little bit of medical terminology from being around her, and I have a cousin who is a doctor. Medical jargon can be like a foreign language. With clear language, I was able to understand more complex terms and procedures. And when I was a LEND fellow, plain language helped me understand a lot of those topics.

The DEEP group is working on mental health treatment now, and clear language is critical for those who struggle with mental health, like I do. If you can’t verbalize what you’re going through, clear language can give you the tools to pinpoint what’s going on that you can share with people.

When I’m shut out of a conversation because I don’t understand the terms, I feel invisible. It’s frustrating to know what you want to say but not be able to convey it. I’ve always struggled with talking about my emotions. And for other people with intellectual and other developmental disabilities, who may not know how to convey something traumatic, it can be really hard. It’s kind of taboo, and a lot of the medical professionals can’t give us support because they haven’t had training in mental health for people with IDD.

I’ve also done advocacy work as an ally for people with IDD who are also part of the LGBTQ+ community, translating terms like transgender or bisexual. That work was hard because I wanted to translate it into clear language, but also be respectful. I didn’t want to set off triggers because in that community, the wrong word can be traumatic for someone, even if you didn’t intend for it to be. Sex education in general needs to be taught in clear language, because what if someone gets into a situation and gets hurt, and they can’t describe the correct terminology? If you can’t say the right body parts to a detective, an officer, or a judge, they won’t take you seriously.

We have to realize that no matter how hard we try, there will be words that can’t be translated, and that is OK, as long as we explain them.

I wish everyone used plain language more often in everyday life. Whether it’s first responders or just situations at work when I’d rather not have to constantly be calling a manager over to translate instructions, clear language can help us all have better interactions. We can work together so that if something arises and we need to go to somebody, we can feel safe. I’ve had a very supportive team and family in my life, but not everybody does. Safety and security and stability are things our community lacks, unfortunately, so having people to communicate with and to talk about your experiences is so important.