Messages from our CEO: Kickin’ It with Kimberly
It’s essential to us that we keep you well-informed about current issues and barriers affecting people with disabilities. Our CEO, Kimberly Tissot, recognizes that you are at the heart of our efforts to promote disability rights, justice, and freedoms. Letters will be written to you, our key supporters, about the injustices we uncover and the solutions we can offer as a disability-led organization.
April 2026
Kickin’ It with Kimberly: Let’s Talk About “Inspiration Porn” (No, It’s Not What You Think)
First things first- inspiration porn is not dirty. I promise. No need to clear your browser history.
The word porn is what makes people uncomfortable. When disability advocate Stella Young coined the term, she wasn’t talking about sex. She was talking about objectification. Pornography takes a person and reduces them to something that exists for someone else’s pleasure. Inspiration porn works in a similar way. It reduces disabled people to something that exists for someone else’s motivation.
Instead of being seen as full human beings with goals, responsibilities, hard work, and complicated lives, disabled people become a feel-good story for other people. The focus quietly shifts away from the person and onto the audience. The disabled person becomes the emotional boost someone else needed that day.
You’ve probably seen it without even realizing it. It shows up in viral posts where a disabled child walking across a stage is captioned with something like, “What’s your excuse?” It shows up in videos where a disabled person working out at the gym is framed as heroic simply for exercising. It shows up when someone posts a photo of a disabled parent raising their children, and comments flood in about how “inspiring” it is that they are parenting at all. It shows up in headlines that say things like “Wheelchair-bound man refuses to give up,” as if existing while disabled must automatically mean someone is overcoming tragedy. PS. No one is wheelchair bound; they aren’t chained to their wheelchairs.
Sometimes it shows up in quieter ways, too. Someone sees a disabled person grocery shopping, commuting to work, or running a business and responds with, “Seeing that really makes me realize I have no excuses.” In that moment, the disabled person isn’t being recognized for their effort or skill. They are being used as a point of comparison to motivate someone else.
Most of the time, inspiration porn doesn’t look cruel. It looks kind. It sounds supportive. People often believe they are celebrating disabled people. But underneath that praise is often something more complicated, a set of expectations that were much lower to begin with. It is also demeaning and exhausting to deal with every day.
Let’s talk about graduations for a moment.
If you have an apparent disability, you probably know this experience. You’re standing in line in your cap and gown waiting for your name to be called. Graduations are already overwhelming enough. Your heart is pounding, your family is somewhere in the crowd, and you’re just trying not to trip on the stage.
Then your name is called. And the applause suddenly gets louder.
Not polite clapping. Not just your friends cheering. The entire room shifts. It’s noticeably louder than it was for the ten names before you. People who don’t even know you are clapping harder than they were a moment ago.
Instead of feeling proud, you suddenly feel exposed.
I’ve graduated from high school, college, and graduate school. Every single time my name was called, the applause was noticeably louder. I didn’t have a huge cheering section. In fact, my friends and I used to make bets beforehand about whether the crowd would go wild when I crossed the stage. I always won.
It wasn’t because I worked harder than everyone else. Everyone who walked across that stage earned their diploma. It wasn’t because my degree meant more. It wasn’t because I had more family in the audience.
It was because people saw my disability and felt inspired.
They felt like they were witnessing someone “overcome the odds.” But the truth is, I didn’t graduate despite being disabled. I graduated because I studied, passed exams, wrote the papers, and met the requirements as everyone else, even with accommodations.
The louder applause wasn’t really about my achievement. It was about their expectations of disabled people.
Inspiration porn lives in that space between low expectations and ordinary accomplishment. When someone is shocked or deeply moved that a disabled person graduates, holds a job, raises children, leads an organization, or simply lives independently, what they are revealing, often unintentionally, is that they didn’t expect it in the first place.
That’s the part that stings. Not the clapping. The assumption behind it.
And to be fair, most people are not trying to be harmful. They genuinely feel proud. They genuinely feel emotional. They believe they are being supportive. But kindness without awareness can still reinforce low expectations. When someone says things like “You’re so inspiring just for getting up every day,” or “Seeing you makes me realize my problems aren’t that bad,” what they are really communicating is that they assume disabled life must be tragic.
But disabled people are not tragic.
Disabled people go to school, build careers, raise families, run businesses, create art, shape policy, and advocate for change. Disabled people sit on boards, run nonprofits, and influence legislation. We build communities, innovate solutions, and contribute to the world every single day.
Y’all, this is who we are. This is our normal.
So, when disabled people say inspiration porn is harmful, it isn’t because we don’t appreciate encouragement. It’s because exaggerated praise for ordinary things reveals how low the expectations were to begin with.
What disabled people want is much simpler.
We want equal expectations. We want to be seen as human, not treated like we don’t belong. We want our work to speak for itself. We want to be recognized for our discipline, creativity, leadership, and perseverance—not simply for existing in a body that others underestimated.
I have so many experiences like this in my life. Recently, I was traveling for work and going through airport security alone. One of the TSA agents asked who I was with, and when I said I was by myself, they looked shocked, then hugged me and told me how strong I am.
But the truth is, I was just flying for a work trip, like most of the other adults in that line.
Moments like that can be a little funny. I know people mean well, but it does highlight something bigger. I’m not trying to be inspirational or “strong” for doing everyday things—I’m just trying to catch my flight like everyone else.
So, here’s the shift.
Be inspired by someone’s dedication. Be inspired by someone’s leadership. Be inspired by someone’s persistence, brilliance, or courage in the face of real barriers.
But don’t be inspired just because a disabled person exists and lives their life.
Here’s my challenge for you all:
The next time you see a disabled person graduate, go to work, advocate for change, parent their kids, start a business, get married, or accomplish something meaningful, pause for a moment. Ask yourself whether you would react the same way if they weren’t disabled. Ask yourself whether you are celebrating the achievement or reacting to your own surprise.
Then raise your expectations. Not in a harsh way. In a fair way.
Expect disabled people to graduate. Expect us to lead. Expect us to innovate. Expect us to be in the community. Expect us to shape policy. Expect us to build businesses and change systems.
Because we do.
Clap because the work was excellent. Cheer because the accomplishment matters. Celebrate the achievement.
But don’t turn someone into your daily dose of motivation.
We are not here to inspire you by existing. We are here to live fully, achieve boldly, and dismantle low expectations along the way.
And trust me, we don’t need bonus applause or unwelcome hugs to do it.
– Kimberly Tissot, President and CEO, Able South Carolina
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For nearly 32 years, Able South Carolina has been a critical force for disability rights, belonging, and the right to live on one’s own terms. As a disability-led organization, we don’t just serve our community—we are the disability community. We Are All Able SC! We’re calling on allies, advocates, and community members to generously invest in disability empowerment and justice. Please invest in those most affected and impacted by policy decisions. Visit allable-sc.org today to make a donation.