Visibility of People With Intellectual and Developmental Disabilities in Mainstream Society #AtoZChallenge

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. I’m really late writing my letter V post in the #AtoZChallenge. I am not too excited about today’s topic either, but that might change as I write. I just came up with it two minutes before opening the new post window on WordPress. Today, I want to talk about visibility of people with intellectual and developmental disabilities in mainstream society.

Until the mid-1990s, individuals with intellectual disabilities were routinely institutionalized on grounds like mine, sheltered away from the general public. While there are advantages to this, it did mean the general population hardly saw any individuals with intellectual disabilities, especially not adults or those with more severe disabilities.

In the 1990s, institutions were often demolished altogether and individuals with even the most severe disabilities were moved into the community. This, however, did little to help society be more accepting of people with intellectual disabilities.

Now, with “suited education”, which was introduced in the mid-2010s, individuals with disabilities are encouraged to attend mainstream education if at all possible. This means that more people with mild intellectual disabilities and other developmental disabilities, who would otherwise attend special ed, are now in regular classes.

I, having been forced into mainstream education with very few accommodations, am not a fan of “suited education”. My opinions on deinstitutionalization are mixed. While I do feel that we need to be allowed to be visible in mainstream society, I do not feel that this is a case of the disabled needing to assimilate or be “normalized”. Truthfully, I do not feel that we need to prove our right to exist beyond the margins. That being said, the reality is that society doesn’t want us. At least, it doesn’t want me, a high support needs autistic and multiply-disabled person. When I still ventured out into the world on my own, I had just a little too many encounters with the police that often weren’t pleasant.

Quality of Life As It Relates to Intellectual and Developmental Disabilities #AtoZChallenge

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone and welcome to my letter Q post in the #AtoZChallenge. Today, I want to talk about quality of life. This is a concept often used in medical ethics to determine whether someone’s life is “meaningful”, in this sense, “meaningful” enough for life-saving treatments. For instance, when I was a baby and sustained a brain bleed, my parents wondered whether I would later have sufficient quality of life for life support to make sense.

People with intellectual and other disabilities are, in this respect, often seen as having a lower quality of life regardless of their subjective experience compared to people without disabilities. After all, many people with intellectual disabilities cannot work, live independently or have long-term romantic relationships. That is, not in the same ways that non-disabled people can.

However, if we judge people’s quality of life by their earnings, their ability to live independently without any supports, and non-disabled people’s ideas of what constitutes a “normal” long-term romantic relationship, we are discriminating against rather than affirming people with disabilities.

Another way of employing the concept of quality of life is to look at what exactly brings meaning to each individual’s life, rather than to measure how meaningful each life is by how well-accomplished an individual is. This way, quality of life is useful even for people with profound intellectual and multiple disabilities. The Dutch Center for Consultation and Expertise has created a questionnaire on quality of life, which should be used as a stepping stone for first determining a person’s quality of life and then ways in which it can be improved.

For people with profound intellectual and multiple disabilities, quality of life really is often determined by tiny things. I mean, even for them self-determination and independence might be underlying values, but these are reflected in very small things. For example, I read about a discussion on the quality of life questionnaire between a family member and staff of a profoundly and multiply disabled person. The topic concerned his daily walks. One of the people involved said the client probably preferred to be taken on walks at least twice a day, while the other said he seemed not to like his walks at all. The difference turned out to lie in the way the people approached the walks: the person with whom the client didn’t seem to want to walk, pushed the wheelchair at a rapid pace without stopping, while the other walked slowly and took frequent breaks to show the client his surroundings. This shows how quality of life may be as simple as a slower walking pace.

Long-Term Care for People With Intellectual and Developmental Disabilities #AtoZChallenge

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone and welcome to my letter L post in the #AtoZChallenge. Today, I want to talk about long-term care as it pertains to individuals with intellectual or developmental disabilities. My post is going to be a bit centric to the Dutch situation, as that is what I know best.

In the Netherlands, people who need lifelong care fall either under the Long-Term Care Act or the Social Support Act. Criteria for the Long-Term Care Act are very strict, as it covers lifelong 24-hour care in a care facility (or in some cases at home, but I don’t know that much about that). In other words, to qualify for this type of care, you need to prove that you will never be able to live without 24-hour care. The Social Support Act covers community-based supports, but also temporary supported housing, such as independence training for young adults. (Care for under-18s is covered by the Youth Act, which is in some ways similar to the Social Support Act but covers more domains.)

The Social Support Act is implemented by the local government. This means that, if you decide to move while receiving social care, you’ll need to reapply. Since care under the Social Support Act isn’t lifelong either, you will also often need to reapply. Some cities will grant significantly disabled people funding for five years, but some won’t and this means you’ll need to have a “dinner table talk” as assessments are called, each year. On the other hand, under the Long-Term Care Act, your right to your care profile is lifelong and countrywide.

Care profiles make up the funding classification system in long-term care. These care profiles are based on one’s primary care ground and then on one’s level of care needed. There are criteria for each care ground and then criteria for each level. For instance, for intellectual disability care profiles, an IQ below 85 that was apparent before the age of 18 is required. I do for this reason obviously not qualify for an intellectual disability care profile. My care profile is based on visual impairment.

Until 2021, psychiatric disorders, and that included autism if you happened to have an IQ above 85, were exempt from qualifying an individual for the Long-Term Care Act. The reasoning was that mental illness is treatable, so individuals with psychiatric disorders cannot prove they’ll need 24-hour care for the rest of their lives.

Back to care profiles. For intellectual disability, there are I think six different profiles. Most people with profile 3 and 4 (profiles 1 and 2 no longer exist) will live in community-based supported housing. I am more familiar with people with care profile 5 and 8, which are severely intellectually disabled people who need a lot of (profile 5) or total care (profile 8). I am also familiar with profile 7, which is for individuals with an intellectual disability and significant challenging behavior. My visual impairment care profile is comparable to profile 7 in intellectual disability.

These three profiles I mentioned, are the only ones that can qualify a person for “extra care”, ie. what I usually refer to as one-on-one support. Extra care, unlike the care profile itself, is temporary and specific to the regional Care Office. For this reason, if I am to move out of the area of my Care Office, I will lose my one-on-one and my new care agency will need to reapply.

Legal jargon aside, what is it like living in long-term care? Well, most agencies for the intellectually disabled have one or more main institutions but they do aim for community-based living when possible. In fact, when integration was hyped up in the 1990s, some agencies simply demolished their institutions and started moving even the most severely disabled or behaviorally challenged individuals into the community. Back in 2006 or 2007, I criticized a documentary criticizing this move, saying it was poor care that caused deinstitutionalization to fail. However, let me just say I’ve made up my mind.

Justice: Issues Facing People With Intellectual Disabilities in the Criminal Justice System #AtoZChallenge

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. I’m once again really late writing my #AtoZChallenge post and actually considered not writing it today, but that felt rather off. For my letter J post, I am writing about issues facing intellectually disabled people in the criminal justice system, be it as victims, witnesses, suspects, defendants or incarcerated individuals.

There are many issues for these individuals. For instance, people with an intellectual disability are far more likely to be victims of crime than the general population. For violent crimes, they are twice as likely to be victimized, whereas for other crimes, the ratio is even higher. For instance, people with an intellectual disability are easily exploited.

That being said, crimes against people with intellectual disabilities are not prosecuted as often as crimes against non-disabled people. The reason may be that intellectually disabled people aren’t viewed as credible witnesses.

When people with an intellectual disability are themselves suspects, they often do not get appropriate supports and reasonable accommodations to allow them a fair trial. In the UK, people with an intellectual disability can access an “appropriate adult”, who isn’t their lawyer but whose job it is to make sure their disability is accounted for during involvement with the justice system. This as far as I know does not (yet) exist in the Netherlands or the United States.

Many individuals particularly with a mild intellectual disability end up in regular correctional facilities because either their intellectual disability wasn’t recognized during trial or they don’t qualify for an insanity defense. Unfortunately though, the regular prison system can’t really accommodate these individuals. One of the student staff here used to work in correctional facilities and this motivated her to retrain as a support worker.

In the United States, people with an intellectual disability are exempt from the death penalty. However, it varies by state how it is determined whether a person actually has an intellectual disability. In some states, the jury decides on this, whereas in others, it’s the judge. Either way, I feel this is discriminatory, as neither a lay jury nor a judge are trained to recognize intellectual disability. Now I oppose the death penalty anyway, but I feel this lack of proper identification could affect individuals not at risk of execution too.

Historical Perspectives on Intellectual and Developmental Disabilities #AtoZChallenge

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone and welcome to my letter H post in the #AtoZChallenge. Today, I will discuss some of the history of intellectual and developmental disabilities.

Throughout history, people with intellectual and developmental disabilities were feared and stigmatized. However, it wasn’t until the mid-19th century that societies in the western world started taking action to take care of them outside of family homes. At first, institutions were more or less educational, based on the idea that people with intellectual disabilities could learn too. However, towards the end of the 19th century, there interestingly was a shift away from educating towards warehousing. This was when large-scale state institutions were built.

An interesting turn involved the work of Wolf Wolfensberger around the mid-20th century. He believed in “normalization”, a term still used today. In fact, I saw it in the job description for support workers at my home. To be clear, I cringe at this idea, because who decides what is “normal”, anyway? Of course, the idea really should be to value intellectually disabled people’s contributions to society as much as non-disabled (“normal”) people’s. However, I personally find this term used when I am refused a plastic coffee mug to drink from, because a ceramic mug is more “normal”. For those not aware, due to my mild physical disability, I find a plastic one easier to hold.

I can’t end this post without touching on the Nazis’ treatment of the intellectually disabled. Initially, they were open about their eugenic “euthanasia” program, using intellectually disabled people to test mass murder techniques on they could later use on other groups such as the Jews. When families and other people started protesting too much, they went on in secret. The usual methods of killing disabled people in this later stage were starvation and medication overdoses.

I also should really touch on the ever-changing terminology surrounding intellectual disabilities. In the early 20th century, people with an intellectual disability were called “feeble-minded”. Then came terms like “idiot”, “imbecile” and “moron”, referring respectively to people with a severe/profound, moderate and mild intellectual disability. Then came “mental retardation”, which wasn’t actually removed as a term from the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) until 2013. The current term in DSM-5 is intellectual developmental disorder, but intellectual disability is most commonly used.

Brain Injury As It Relates to Intellectual and Developmental Disabilities #AtoZChallenge

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. We’ve arrived at my letter B post in the #AtoZChallenge. I struggled with what topic to choose for this letter, but eventually settled on brain injury. As you will find out, this type of disability has a kind of controversial relationship to intellectual and developmental disabilities. After all, many people view an intellectual or developmental disability as necessarily present from birth. The American Association on Intellectual and Developmental Disabilities (AAIDD), however, considers an intellectual disability as having originated before the age of 22. In the Netherlands, the age of onset cut-of for an intellectual disability care profile in the Long-Term Care Act is 18. As such, people who acquired a brain injury in childhood affecting their ability to learn, are diagnosable as having an intellectual disability.

With respect to other developmental disabilities, such as autism, the diagnostic waters get even muddier. I, for one, was diagnosed as autistic at age 20 despite having suffered a brain bleed as an infant. Then, ten years later, the diagnosis was removed again because apparently a brain injury no matter how early on precludes an autism diagnosis. However, I could not be diagnosed with acquired brain injury-related neuropsychological or behavioral difficulties either, because these would have required a clear before/after difference. Besides, I am blind too, so most neuropsychological testing isn’t possible on me. As a result of this, I ended up with just a regular personality disorder diagnosis. Now I’m not 100% sure I don’t have a personality disorder, but it’s certainly not all there is to me diagnostically.

In the Dutch care system, people with acquired/traumatic brain injury usually fall under physical disability service providers, unless they have really severe challenging behavior. In that case, they usually either end up in an intellectual disability facility or a psychiatric hospital. There are a few specialist mental health units for people with brain injury, but these are treatment-based, not living facilities. There are also nursing home units for people with brain injury, but these cater towards people over 65.

Adaptive Behavior in Intellectual and Developmental Disabilities #AtoZChallenge

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone and welcome to day one in the #AtoZChallenge. This year, I chose intellectual and developmental disabilities as my theme. One of the defining characteristics of intellectual disability, and also a common trait of other developmental disabilities, is impaired adaptive behavior. For my letter A post, I want to talk about that.

So what is adaptive behavior? Adaptive behavior refers to the skills we learn in life in order to adapt to the expectations of the world around us. It includes the following:


  • Conceptual skills, such as literacy, self-directedness and the ability to comprehend money, numbers and time.

  • Social skills, such as interpersonal skills, self-esteem, skills necessary to obey rules and the law and avoid being victimized.

  • Practical skills, such as personal care, travel, money management, housekeeping, etc.


Adaptive behavior is sometimes also called adaptive functioning. The skills that it includes are often referred to as “life skills”. Adaptive behavior is important, because it allows an individual to adjust to the changing demands of life. It is related to intelligence, but it’s not the same.

In order to be diagnosed with an intellectual disability, in addition to a significantly below-average IQ (which I will talk about in my letter I post), a person must be significantly impaired in their adaptive functioning. However, impairments in adaptive behavior are not exclusive to individuals with an intellectual disability. People with other neurodevelopmental disabilities, such as autism, often show impairments in this area too. I, for one, do.

I’m Participating in the #AtoZChallenge Again This Year!

Posted on by Astrid

Okay, with my blogging not having been all that successful over the past several months, maybe this is really a stupid idea, but I’m wanting to participate in the #AtoZChallenge again. For those who don’t know, this is a challenge in April in which bloggers write 26 posts during the month, each based on one letter of the alphabet.

The theme reveal event opened last Sunday, so I’m writing to let you know what I think will be my theme for the challenge. I will, like last year and the year before, choose a broad theme that I might decide to narrow down during the challenge. My theme for this year is disability. I’m probably mostly going to focus on developmental disabilities, including but not limited to autism. I did the challenge on autism specifically once on my old blog. While that was a success, I want to have the option of writing on broader topics. I may also want to write about long-term care as it relates to disability. I was for a moment considering “life in long-term care” as my theme, but I can’t think of enough topics to write on relating to that.

Most of my posts will fall under the “Awareness” category, while some may be more suited to the “Advocacy” category. I will attempt to keep my posts relatively accessible. Hope you’ll follow along.

Gratitude List (December 3, 2022) #TToT

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. I did a complaint post yesterday and honestly am still feeling like crap, but wallowing in it isn’t going to help. Instead, for this reason, I’m going to write a gratitude list. As usual, I’m joining Ten Things of Thankful (#TToT). Here goes.

1. I am grateful for my husband. He sticks by me through the hard place that is this new care home.

2. I am grateful for my mother-in-law. She tries to stand up for me to the powers-that-be too.

3. I am grateful for my old day activities staff. They visited me on Thursday and we had an extensive lunch together.

4. I am grateful for an opportunity to create another polymer clay flower. And a strawberry. Unfortunately, that having made that morning a relative success, was used by my staff as an opportunity to silence my mother-in-law’s attempt at speaking to the higher-ups.

5. I am grateful for the support of my online friends.

6. I am grateful that my most recent major self-harm episode, early Wednesday, didn’t cause any lasting damage.

7. I am grateful for quetiapine (Seroquel), my PRN medication. It hadn’t been refilled when I had run out of it a while ago, so I was without it when I badly needed it a few times this week. This was one of the reasons I had my major self-harm episode. However, I am so thankful it got refilled.

8. I am grateful for an electric heater. Since my heating broke down, my husband eventually called the care home to tell my staff they had to provide me a way to stay warm until my heating got fixed and they thankfully listened. Unfortunately, it seems the thing broke down as I was typing this post.

9. I am grateful the repair crew came out to fix my heating earlier this evening. Because of the type of heating, it may take up to 24 hours before my room will be comfortably warm though.

10. I am grateful for distractions in the form of books and podcasts and blogs. I may want to dive into the disability activist blogosphere once again, assuming such a thing still exists.

What are you thankful for?

I Would Never (Or So I Thought): My Changing Perspective on My Care Needs #31Days2022

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. Today’s optional prompt for #31Days2022 is “never”. I am immediately reminded of my shifting perspectives on my care needs over the 17+ years that I’ve been in the care system. Some things I thought I’d never accept, let alone want, in my care, are now things I wish for.

Most notably, in 2008, when I’d been in the psych hospital for about three months, I was being discussed among some autism know-it-alls. When asked what I wanted them to know before the meeting – since I wasn’t present at the meeting itself -, I wrote down that I wanted to be back in the community as much as possible as quickly as possible.

Out of the meeting came the recommendation that I be transferred to an autism treatment facility on psych institution grounds. I eventually ended up going to the orientation visit for the facility and the treatment coordinator and I mutually agreed it wouldn’t be the best place for me, precisely because of what it was: a treatment facility. I didn’t need further training in independence skills, after all, because, due to the combination of my disabilities, this wouldn’t be successful.

At first, I however misunderstood the meeting’s recommendations and thought they wanted me to go into the workhome, which is essentially a long-term living facility for autistics on the same institution grounds. And this is where I started to object in a way I wouldn’t now: I didn’t want to go live on institution grounds long-term.

For the first several years of my experience in the care system, I thought that institutionalization was an excuse for poor care. I am not saying it isn’t, because people who live in the community may need more support than those who live on sheltered institution grounds. In fact, when my current care facility was built in 2015, grouping several community-based care homes together, it was out of a need for budget cuts.

However, that wasn’t the reason I didn’t want to live on institution grounds. Indeed, the reason was the fact that I perceived myself as far more independent than I currently perceive myself. Not just that, but I had a misguided view of the amount of care I could receive.

You see, in 2007, I left an independence training home, where, during the week, the staff/client ratio was usually 2:7. Granted, there was no night shift, not even a sleeping one. I could deal with that at the time and, as a result, thought I could live in a community supported housing facility with staffing available even part of the day. Never mind that this usually meant a much lower staff/client ratio, so that within staffing hours, I would need to share my staff with a larger number of fellow residents.

I also rebelled against living on institution grounds because of my wish that more people could be integrated into society with the right support. Then again, I realized within the past several years that just because I and other people would wish for integration within society, doesn’t mean society wants us in it. For example, institution grounds are just much safer to walk on for people who aren’t safe in traffic, and that happens to include me. Just because I wish all drivers would stop their vehicles when they saw me, with or without my white cane, doesn’t mean they do. And it’s not like they can’t tell I’m disabled when I’m not using my white cane.

Also in 2008 or maybe it was 2009, I saw this documentary about a care agency in the southwest of the Netherlands which had completely done away with institution grounds in 1997, even for the most severely disabled clients. The presenter started out by saying that half (I think) of the clients in another province wanted to go back into institutions. The southwestern agency’s director started talking highly of his agency’s approach, where for instance they call their support workers “personal assistants” and where he at first claimed all clients are successfully integrated within the community. The presenter started showing examples of clients who were drowning, figuratively speaking, in the community. The bottom line of the documentary was that the director made up his mind and invited the presenter to come back a year later to hear his revised approach. I am pretty sure I wouldn’t believe the presenter, saying the clients had obviously not received the right amount of support. But if you need a “personal assistant” by your side all the time in the community while you can roam institution grounds freely by yourself, living in the community isn’t necessarily the obvious choice.