Disability and the lines that draw identity.

Many years ago, I read a book called “Far from the three” by Andrew Solomon (2012) . The book is the result of over 11 years of interviews with circa 300 very different families which kids fell… well, far from the tree: deafness, dwarfism, down syndrome, autism, prodigies, queerness, amongst others. These kids were part of a universe, a culture, identities, that was foreign to the families they were born into.

In the book, Solomon formulates this concept of there being two types of identities: vertical and horizontal. Vertical is the one for what can be passed down generationally, and one will likely share with parents: ethnicity, nationality, language, sometimes religion. And, observing the consequences of being part of a minority, in general, there is no attempt to “fix” those. Horizontal identities however are more often shared with a small community you “encountered” and can differ radically from you family or parents: being deaf, queer, autistic. The identity aspect for these needs to be learned from peers outside of the family. There is no pre-established scaffolding inherited. In here, some disabilities are presented as horizontal identities, and they can both be lived as illnesses, and/or claimed as identities.

The book is immense, and an one hour video is a lot, but I highly recommend the 12 first minutes. (Google, 2013)

Solomon’s frame of difficulties in horizontal identities perfectly aligns with the social model of disability (SMD) (UAL, 2020): the hardships are not intrinsic to the condition but manufactured by a world built for and by vertical-identity holders: A deaf child isn’t inherently excluded; they are excluded by a hearing world that didn’t design itself with them in mind. If the SMD proposes inclusion by design, changing the environment, systems and attitude’s, Solomon presents us with the difficult human dilemma of some changes: Parents, by meaning the best to their kids, can “fix” deafness with cochlear implants, but will they ever fit in either hearing or deaf identities? Fix the person to fit the world, or change the world to fit the person? And who can afford to go ‘against’ the world?

The central finding of the book is the same as the provocation that led to its existence: in our alterity, we meet by constructing meaning from our own stories. Despite being different people, with different overlapping social identities and circumstances, there were shared feelings, experiences and crossings amongst them, and that makes us, readers, empathize and identify with many situations. Solomon guides us through these families’ homes and lives from his perspective as a gay man, feeling loneliness, inadequacy and isolation. Yet isn’t that a common feeling to immigrants, or those who can’t fluently speak a language? Aren’t we all one accident away from becoming disabled, or luckily years away from needing accessibility adaptations?

This book came to mind to compliment what studies and theories alone rarely manage to grasp: the human aspect of the abstract. Terms and policies are important, but they only make sense with human characters to live them. The best way to build a more welcoming university, that holds space for horizontal identities as comfortably as vertical ones, is not just through better policy, but through the quiet hard work of building meaning and finding resonance in each other’s stories.

References

Andrew Solomon, Google (2013) Far from the Tree: Andrew Solomon | Talks at Google [Online video]. 4 March. Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WSV1i40cpcs (Accessed: 8 May 2026).

Inclusion London (no date) The social model of disability and the cultural model of deafness. Available at: https://www.inclusionlondon.org.uk/about-us/disability-in-london/social-model/the-social-model-of-disability-and-the-cultural-model-of-deafness/ (Accessed: 8 May 2026).

Solomon, A. (2012) Far from the tree: parents, children, and the search for identity. New York: Scribner.

UAL (2020) The Social Model of Disability at UAL. 12 March. Available at: https://youtu.be/mNdnjmcrzgw (Accessed: 8 May 2026).

Blog Post: Seeing my practice through different lenses.

Something interesting happened during this Unit of the PGCert: I had the opportunity to have three different types of Review of Teaching Practice (RTP), instead of the usual two.

As part of our TPP activities, we have RTP from a colleague and from a tutor. Since I am part of the online group, I submitted to be reviewed a resource students have access to that facilitates them to come work in the lab: the Grow Lab form (GLForm). However, while I worked on the RTP, for two weeks the Grow Lab had an anthropology PhD student observing our interactions with students. They sat through our dynamic with different students, courses, practices and challenges, and shared their observations and preliminary notes with us.

So, I ended up with three completely different types of feedback about my practice: an assychronous review from Elena, a synchronous online review by Carys, and observational from the PhD student. Same artifact (ish), no one had previous Grow Lab context or experience, three completely different lenses. And honestly, each one revealed something the others couldn’t.

Elena’s review happened entirely through written exchange. All the information she had come directly from me—my biases, views, and limitations in written communication. As I read through her side notes, I could see her thinking process unfold and identify what was lacking in my communication. This hinted me about how much I assume students already know. Elena’s confusion was student confusion. Because all she had was an asynchronous assessment of a written tool, her feedback was design/format focused.

Carys had the same asynchronous access to the form, plus a 45-minutes conversation online. Therefore ‘virtual’, but also a synchronous conversation. With the opportunity to paint a fuller picture, our chat was actually a scaffold for my reflections (Vygotsky, 1978). Her feedback focused on the priorities and purposes of the form.

The PhD observation was entirely different. They documented what people DO, not what they SAY they do. Or what I SAID they DO. She had access to my actions, students’ actions, and our interactions within the context. And not only once, but several iterations were observed, and my adaptability to each. In this case, the GLForm was only one element of the practice.

Each review method had blind spots. Written feedback reveals design flaws but misses relational aspects. Spoken dialogue clarifies intentions but virtualizes a practice rather than observe it. Observation captures unconscious behaviours but can’t access my internal reasoning. All these methods in some level, show some gap between my intentions and the reality. Having external eyes makes visible aspects I do unconsciously (how I adapt language, how I assume readiness from text or in person). It also revealed my intentions by exposing a big frustration: e.g: students using AI, avoiding reflection, defeating the purpose of the form as a scaffold for students to develop critical thinking and autonomy.

Each review brought different praise but also discomfort. Elena’s made me realize how much I assume. Carys’s made me rethink what my purposes are. The observation made me confront gaps between what I think I do and what I actually do. Which makes me wonder: If I had received only one type of review, I would have missed crucial insights? How to use the focus of each method to highlight the desired outcome when designing new tools or communicating with students?

For now I just know that multiple lenses over my practice have revealed a more accurate, colourful picture than I could have painted alone.

AI Use

Drafts were edited for length using Claude (Anthropic, 2026). My initial text was pasted to it, with the following prompt:

“I want you to help me reduce this text to maximum 550 words. For that follow these rules:
1. I want you to help me reduce the word count without altering any meaning, or writting style. Keep it as close to original as possible
2. correct any typos, grammar or spelling mistakes.
3. Propose changes to the text by: highlighting in bold what is your new proposed version so i can check if i agree with the new parts. strikethrough parts i should delete. put any grammar, typo or spelling corrections in between **.

References

Vygotsky, L. S. (1978) Mind in Society: The Development of Higher Psychological Processes. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.