Daniela de Francisco: "Disability is a filter for idiots"

Daniela de Francisco was told that she would not walk or speak again after suffering a cerebral hemorrhage at just 12 years old. But today she speaks, walks, and has finished the last year at UPF of the degree in philosophy, politics, and economics, one of the most competitive degrees in Spain. She has founded the anti-ableist student association.

What do you remember about the hemorrhage?

— I had started the first year of ESO at a new school, it was lunchtime and I noticed I had a bad headache. What I remember afterwards are ambulances, emergencies, and operations.

And the prognosis?

— After a few weeks of being admitted, the doctors told us that it wouldn't be easy for me to get out of bed on my own again.

And speech?

— It didn't take me much, I've always enjoyed talking a lot. It might seem like a joke, but I was stubborn and insistent and I started talking a few weeks later. Mobility was more complicated. They told me that if I didn't recover within six months, it wasn't very feasible that I would improve. And six months later, I was in a wheelchair.

But you walk.

— It was many hours of incredible professionals, sport, everything very gradual. Until I walked.

How does a twelve-year-old person face this?

— My way of processing it was not processing it. It's a pain, but I've realized over time the drastic change it has brought: of projections or how you relate to your body. Everything.

Was sport key?

— A couple of years after the hemorrhage, I started adapted swimming. All the participants had some type of disability. Sport always helps, obviously, but the most important thing was meeting other people with disabilities. There was no one around me who had one. I was the disabled one. And it was healing. Even though we have different disabilities, we have lived through very similar situations and we are united by how society perceives us.

How do you perceive it?

— Disability has very few representations in culture, in the media, in our daily lives, and the few that exist tell tragic stories or stories of individual overcoming. I, for example, when I had some adaptation problems in high school, the narrative was clear: this problem exists because you are there. The weight is not placed on the structure. 

For example?

— I am right-handed and couldn't hold a pen, so I had to learn to write. And obviously, I am slower. When people think of accessibility, they think of ramps and elevators, but accessibility is also being able to take adapted exams. And it's not taken into account. Or when we went on excursions, I couldn't go because they weren't accessible for me. They literally told me that I would slow down the group. That is very hard.

And you said nothing?

— I would be very demanding now, but I had never personally experienced a disability, nor had my family. I didn't know what I was entitled to. And there's a lot of talk about great stories of overcoming challenges, but not about the daily reality of disability, which is much more important.

You have created the anti-ableist student association.

— Ableism is discrimination based on disability. And it is everywhere, but it is not spoken about. And if you don't speak about things, they don't exist.

What do you miss at university?

— I wouldn't even know where to start. At many times you find yourself unprotected, because what is said on paper does not correspond with the student's experience. There are communication adaptation problems, misplaced comments from professors, or discriminatory attitudes from classmates. It doesn't happen to me because my disability is not visible. And that... is not good either. 

Isn't it good?

— I had a moment when it was visible and I suffered rejection. Therefore, I would be lying if I didn't say that it has made my life easier that I am less noticeable, although that, in itself, already seems problematic to me. And I have experienced violent situations, for example, on public transport, because it doesn't seem like I have a 66% physical disability and reduced mobility. And it also happens that when the disability is not the first thing that is seen, you always have the doubt of when to mention it. 

Say it to whom?

— In professional, romantic relationships… Very recently I had an offer to be a monitor, they told me they loved my experience, everything. And when they asked me what I preferred to do between two options, I told them that everything seemed fine, but that I had a physical disability. They told me they would call me the next day, and they have never heard from me again. 

And don't you feel like telling everyone that it has been difficult for you, that you are happy, that you are having a difficult career, that you are doing very well...?

— Many times, yes, but you also have to know which battles to fight. And you will forgive my expression, but disability is a filter for idiots.

Do you live with discomfort?

— I have pain in my arm and back, if I stand for a long time my knee hurts, and this discomfort will not go away no matter how inclusive the environment is. This is how it is, this is my life and I only have one body. But I am in a good moment. 

I know it shouldn't be remarkable, but you speak Catalan very well.

— It is thanks to friends, culture, and, obviously, love. The turning point to speak it was my partner, who one day told me: "With all that you understand, couldn't you speak it?" And I told her: "Man, I'd love to." And she said something very simple that stuck with me like fire: "Well, if you want to, speak it." I simply had to accept that I wouldn't wake up one day from bed being Pompeu Fabra and that, at the beginning, obviously, I would make more mistakes.