A Message from Theo Braddy: Rethinking the Word ‘Vulnerable’: Am I Vulnerable?

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This is Theo Braddy, Executive Director of the National Council on Independent Living.

As we approach the NCIL’s Annual Conference — Level Up, Building Tomorrow Together — in celebration of the 35th anniversary of the ADA, I wanted to share a final message before we gather. I look forward to seeing many of you there, recognizing that this moment is crucial not just in the history of Independent Living, but in American history, which we are a part of.

It’s exciting to witness organizations uniting with renewed purpose, and to see leaders of all generations coming together like never before. This collaboration fills me with optimism for what lies ahead. It gives me hope!

When we assemble in DC, remember this: I will keep raising my voice to remind us that our similarities far outweigh our differences. I once heard Maya Angelou say, “We are more alike than unalike” and I have never forgotten it. Our nation thrives when each person is recognized, valued, and treated with dignity.

I leave you with this message entitled, “Rethinking the Word ‘Vulnerable’: Am I Vulnerable?”

In public speeches, news stories, policy briefs, and even government statements, people with disabilities are often described as “vulnerable.” While the term may be well-intentioned, it’s deeply problematic. Because the truth is: disability doesn’t make people vulnerable. Society does.

Let’s be clear about what the word “vulnerable” means. It describes someone who is at risk of harm, someone susceptible to being hurt or exploited. But disability itself is not a risk factor. Having a disability does not inherently mean you are less capable, less resilient, or more in danger. What places people with disabilities at risk, what makes them vulnerable, is the failure of decision-makers, systems, institutions, and society at large to ensure equal access, equity, and support.

Lack of accessible housing makes people vulnerable.

Inaccessible medical equipment or diagnostic tools make people vulnerable.

Devastating cuts to Medicaid make people with disabilities vulnerable.

Discrimination in hiring practices, underfunded support programs, and the denial of autonomy and decision-making are the forces that push people with disabilities into situations of increased risk.

And yet, too often, the narrative blames the individual rather than the infrastructure.

This mislabeling carries consequences. When we describe people with disabilities as vulnerable, it implies a static condition, something inherent and unchangeable.

It positions disability as a deficit, rather than recognizing it as a natural part of human diversity. Worse, it shifts focus away from the real source of harm: societal inaction and indifference.

Framing disability in terms of vulnerability also breeds paternalism. It leads to policies and practices that are designed to protect, not to empower.

And it reinforces the dangerous assumption that people with disabilities cannot lead their own lives or speak for themselves.

The disability rights movement has long challenged this mindset, insisting instead on self-determination, equality, and inclusion.

So, what would it look like if we stopped using the word “vulnerable” to describe people with disabilities and started holding systems accountable for the conditions they create?

What if we named what’s actually happening? That inequitable access to healthcare leads to preventable suffering.

That exclusion from emergency planning means people with disabilities are abandoned in crises. That slashing of disability services in federal budgets puts lives at risk.

This isn’t about semantics, it’s about fairness.

Language shapes perception, and perception shapes policy. If we want a society that truly supports people with disabilities, we must start by telling the truth: the vulnerability isn’t in the person.

It’s in the failure to ensure they have what they need, not just to survive, but to thrive.

Let’s stop calling people with disabilities “vulnerable” and start naming the systems or decision-makers that make them so.

And just so I answer the question, by no means am I vulnerable, but that does not stop society from trying to make me so. We cannot let them. See you in DC!

This is Theo Braddy, Executive Director of NCIL. Until next time. Bye-bye now.

Theo Braddy

Executive Director

National Council on Independent Living

About NCIL

NCIL is the longest-running national cross-disability grassroots organization, driven by and dedicated to people with disabilities. Since its founding in 1982, NCIL has represented thousands of organizations and individuals, advocating tirelessly for the human and civil rights of people with disabilities across the United States.