I think we should bring back “Handicapped.” Now let me explain. While the word conjures up images of a bygone era: institutional “shut ins” that were removed from society, antiquated fifty-pound wheelchairs and wooden legs, there’s more to it than that. We’ve progressed in recent years, but have we named it the wrong thing? My titanium wheelchair weighs about sixteen pounds. With carbon fiber prosthetics, amputee sprinters run so fast that the International Olympic Committee ruled that they have an unfair advantage (yes, there’s material for another blog there). I competed for the US Disabled Ski Team, which originated with National Handicapped Sports, now modernized to Disabled Sports USA. Disabled represents progress. Handicapped is stuck in the past. Or is it?

Last week I skied with a group of journalists at Snow Basin, the site of the 2002 Salt Lake Olympic Downhill and Super G and all of the Paralympic events. Journalists joined a small group of us to honor Snow Basin’s newly formed adaptive (another word) skiing program. Sitting at lunch with Jessica Kunzer of Ski Utah and formerly of the National Ability Center, the adaptive program in Park City, and Chet Cooper, the editor for Ability Magazine, the conversation bounced around. Mostly we recounted Chet’s successful descent of the men’s Downhill course—no small feat for a guy from Orange County, especially considering that Olympic racers had accelerated to seventy miles an hour in about three seconds out of the start. It’s steep. But, then Chet stated his preference for “handicapped” over “disabled.”

I might not be an expert, and, sure, he makes his living with words, but he’s able-bodied. Don’t I have some sort of inside information on what’s acceptable? Usually, I don’t care what someone calls me. I don’t want to get caught up in political correctness, but there are times that I bristle at the words like gimp or cripple. Handicapped is that kind of word. When Chet said “Handicapped” was better, I prepared to tell him he was wrong.

His argument went something like this. Golf handicaps level the playing field—same with horse racing. Disabled is like baseball’s disabled list, meaning that you can’t play. The conversation bounced again before he could fully define his argument, but it was enough to start me thinking. Could handicapped have a more favorable connotation? 

Merriam Webster defines the two words:

Handicap: a contest in which an artificial advantage is given or disadvantage imposed on a contestant to equalize the chances of winning; also: the advantage given or disadvantage imposed.”

Disable: to make unable to perform by or as if by illness, injury or malfunction.

As I considered Chet’s comment I couldn’t help but think of Seabisuit, the great horse of the Depression. He was seemingly handicapped at birth. Laura Hillenbrand wrote in Seabiscuit,

“Seabiscuit was an unlikely champion. He was a rough-hewn, undersized horse with a sad little tail and knees that wouldn’t straighten all the way. At a gallop, he jabbed one foreleg sideways, as if he were swatting flies. For two years, he fought his trainers and floundered at the lowest level of racing, misunderstood and mishandled, before his dormant talent was discovered by three men.”

Seabiscuit seemed handicapped at birth, yet, when he started to win he faced greater handicaps. Each time officials raised the impost. They forced this little horse, which galloped as if he were swatting flies, to carry more weight than the others. They handicapped him to level the playing field—to give the others a chance. Now, that’s a connotation and a compliment, like the one the International Olympic Committee gave to amputee sprinter Oscar Pistorius, who attempted to qualify for the 400 meter track event at this summer’s Beijing Olympics. They said, “No, you are too fast on your prosthetic limbs. You can’t play in our Games.” I’m disappointed that Oscar won’t get a chance to prove his speed on the greatest stage this summer, that might well be the real “handicap.” “Disabled” came into vogue but I like the idea of being “handicapped” for being too good or too fast. Good suggestion Chet. Thanks for opening my eyes.