An offensive term 'designed to marginalize people like me': Why it's time to stop using 'midget'
Let go of word P.T. Barnum popularized to entice patrons to 'gawk at, poke and prod' little people: advocate
Underestimated.
The first time I was written off was the day that I was born, and that diagnosis was provided to my father by the doctor on staff.
The young pediatrician was someone whom my father had known, and as he explained the details of my type of dwarfism, achondroplasia, he concluded by offering his opinion that I would most likely be institutionalized.
The doctor was not being malicious. He was attempting to prepare his friend (my father) for what he believed would be the likely outcome of my life.
From the day I was born, I have always been underestimated.
As I grew older, I would be consistently subjected to situations that were sometimes awkward, uncomfortable, and occasionally bizarre, but almost always offensive.
I have come to expect this as an occupational hazard of sorts for being about a foot shorter than average height.
Most times, I am unfazed but every once in a while, even I am shocked by what I am forced to endure. The worst situations for me are when people who are my friends accidentally allow their true feelings to become exposed.
Sometimes the most hurtful comments are the unintentional ones.
When I was pregnant with my son, a friend asked me to a coffee shop, where she carelessly served up an unsolicited question that was clearly a curiosity she had been pondering for a while.
She asked me if my child would be born normal or, you know — like me.
In moments like these, it pains me to contemplate what some of the people closest to me actually think about me.
I was momentarily confused by the docile tone of the question being asked, yet at the same time horrified by the irreverence with which it was being uttered.
I responded with a bewildered "I don't know," and hoped the topic would drift elsewhere in a hurry.
When I thought the matter couldn't possibly escalate in offensiveness, she doubled down by offering her unsolicited opinion that she hoped the baby would be normal. She then casually sipped her steaming cup of Earl Grey, before moving seamlessly onto another innocuous subject.
In moments like these, it pains me to contemplate what some of the people closest to me actually think about me.
'Deathly afraid of me'
If I ever decide to write a book, one of the chapters would have to be titled, "Large Crowds and Little People Do Not Mix."
I found myself on vacation in Las Vegas with my average-height husband in September 2013.
Unbeknownst to us at the time of our booking, the weekend we had chosen coincided with a well publicized Floyd Mayweather fight at the MGM Grand. The city was swollen with people spilling onto the Strip from every orifice of each hotel and casino.
As we tried to snake our way through the hordes of people, we came upon a young woman who was walking while distracted, with her eyes fixated on her shoelaces.
Two steps before what seemed like a certain head-on collision, she must have sensed an obstacle in her way, so she popped her head up and took one look directly at me then let out the loudest blood-curdling scream I've ever heard.
She shrieked so loud that it seemed like the whole Las Vegas Strip came to a momentary standstill.
This young woman was deathly afraid of me and bolted in the opposite direction.
The best way to let a group of people know that you think you are superior to them is to come up with a catchy name to call them.
Believe it or not, some people have an actual phobia of little people. It is rare, but it is a real thing.
After the encounter, we decided that we'd had enough of Vegas for the evening and retreated back toward our hotel to regroup.
On the way back, a group of drunken frat boys on a patio leaned precariously over a railing to yell out the name "Honey Boo-Boo" in my direction. They then immediately congratulated each other with a vigorous round of high-fives and fist bumps to celebrate their accomplishment.
I now investigate major sporting event dates and whereabouts more diligently, before booking vacations.
Offensive origins
The best way to let a group of people know that you think you are superior to them is to come up with a catchy name to call them.
It has to be something derogatory in its origins, but also captures your disdain for that entire group of people in one word. It has to really roll off the tongue, preferably in two syllables or less.
For people like me that word is "midget."
It has been my experience that most people are familiar with the term, yet I would wager that few are aware of its origins.
It takes a special kind of person to popularize a catchy term that has both the ability to completely subjugate an entire group of people, and also has the longevity to span several generations.
For the term midget, that special person was arguably the greatest promoter of all, P.T. Barnum.
At the turn of the 20th century, Barnum was feverishly attempting to establish a travelling show business, and one of the attractions he often peddled were little people.
He needed a way to promote this attraction. So he used a modification of the word "midge" — a type of tiny fly that would bite and spread disease.
The purpose of this attraction was to separate patrons from their money by offering an opportunity gawk at, poke and prod people who looked different from themselves.
I understand he made a pretty good living with it.
For those who are familiar with the term, but until now did not know about its history, the most important takeaway is that this word was specifically designed to marginalize people like me more than 100 years ago.
It is still serving that same purpose today.
Please.
Stop using it.
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