Disability, Language, and the Invisible Architecture of Participation

Last term, I had a Chinese student in my postgraduate class who consistently produced brilliant individual work — sharp insights, strong research frameworks, thoughtful responses to feedback. And yet, during group activities, she struggled to be heard. She relied on a real-time translator app to convert English conversation into Chinese via her phone, and would often join in a few beats after her peers had already moved the conversation forward. Nobody excluded her intentionally — but her presence remained peripheral.

This experience has stayed with me. It prompted me to reflect on how language barriers, while not typically classified as “disability,” can function as structural obstacles that similarly restrict access to participation, knowledge production, and recognition in higher education. When we talk about inclusion, do we assume linguistic fluency as a baseline? And if we do, whom are we unconsciously leaving out?

Kimberlé Crenshaw’s (1989) theory of intersectionality helps illuminate how different forms of marginalisation compound. In this case, the student’s experience is shaped not just by language, but by culture, race, and a specific pedagogical model that privileges speed, fluency, and verbal spontaneity. Her knowledge wasn’t any less valuable — but it wasn’t compatible with the pace and format of the group work. As a result, it went largely unheard. According to Oliver’s (1990) Social Model of Disability, it is not impairment that disables, but the way environments are structured. If we take this seriously, then her experience is not a language problem — it’s a design problem. Are group work structures that reward quick, English-based verbal interaction that are not neutral? They are environments built for a particular kind of student.

Garland-Thomson’s (2002) concept of “misfitting” furthers this point: the mismatch between body (or mind, or language) and system isn’t inherent — it’s contextual. The same student might thrive in a reflective seminar, a visual map-making session, or an asynchronous discussion thread. But in fast-paced group debates, she might misfit — not because of her capability, but because the mode of participation didn’t leave enough room for her way of engaging. It leaves me wondering: how often do our teaching formats inadvertently signal who belongs — and who doesn’t — without our meaning to?

The deeper issue, as Fricker (2007) would argue, is one of epistemic injustice: a student’s ability to contribute knowledge is compromised not by lack of insight, but by lack of recognition. In spaces where diversity is celebrated in principle, the actual formats for learning can still default to fast-paced, verbal, and English-dominant modes of exchange. It raises a difficult but necessary question: when students struggle to engage in these settings, are we too quick to see it as a personal limitation — and too slow to ask whether the structure itself might need rethinking? In response, I invited the group to reflect on how we might adapt our ways of working to ensure everyone could contribute more meaningfully. They proposed using shared written boards, audio voice notes, clearer turn-taking, and allowing more time for translation. These adjustments weren’t perfect, but they changed the pace and tone of the collaboration. With more entry points and shared responsibility, contributions that had previously been missed began to land. It made me wonder: what else becomes possible when inclusion is shaped collectively, rather than delivered top-down?

This experience reminded me that the line between “language barrier” and “disablement” is not always where we think it is. When we talk about inclusion, we must look not only at the bodies and minds in the room, but at the rhythms and assumptions that govern how we teach. Sometimes, being left behind is not about ability — it’s about tempo, design, and who the classroom was built for in the first place.

References

Crenshaw, K. (1989) ‘Demarginalizing the intersection of race and sex: A Black feminist critique of antidiscrimination doctrine, feminist theory and antiracist politics’, University of Chicago Legal Forum, 1989(1), pp. 139–167.

Fricker, M. (2007) Epistemic Injustice: Power and the Ethics of Knowing. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Garland-Thomson, R. (2002) ‘Integrating disability, transforming feminist theory’, NWSA Journal, 14(3), pp. 1–32.

hooks, b. (1994) Teaching to Transgress: Education as the Practice of Freedom. New York: Routledge.

Oliver, M. (1990) The Politics of Disablement. London: Macmillan.