An up close photo of a woman with Down syndrome crying in response to the R-word

The Truth About the R-Word, From the People It Hurts Most

The R-word is everywhere again. It’s showing up on social media, in schools, in entertainment, in the media, and in everyday conversations.

People throw it out casually as a joke or a way to tear someone down. But for people with intellectual and developmental disabilities (IDD), it has never been “just a word.” It’s a slur—a word used to devalue their worth and humanity.

The disability community has fought for decades to end the use of this word. While we’ve made real progress, its resurgence today is a warning: progress is fragile. Every time this word is spoken, it reinforces outdated and harmful ideas about who belongs, who matters, and who is worthy of respect.

This isn’t a minor slip in language. It’s a sign that empathy, dignity, and basic decency are being lost—and that impacts all of us. Choosing not to say the R-word is a start, but it’s not enough. We need more people to understand why the R-word is offensive, why it’s still harmful, and why it must stop.

Listen to people with IDD who have lived with the weight of this word their entire lives.

 

Why The R-Word Is Harmful: In Their Own Words

“I am one of those people who was called the R-word simply because I was different my whole life. I tried to tell people how hurtful that was, and that my name was Jill, but no one listened. It made me feel so little and useless. Like many people with IDD, I struggled with not fitting in at school and being fired from jobs after high school because of the wrong fit—all while being called the R-word. I wanted to have friends like everyone else, but instead I was made fun of and ignored. I was so lonely and unhappy in those days. But I learned that having an IDD is nothing to be ashamed of. I’m a caring, loving person trying to find her place in this big world.”
Jill Egle, Louisiana
An up close photo of Shawn, a Black man with a disability
“I have been called the R-word and that makes me feel less than human. It invalidates my experience as a person, and every time I hear that word, it makes me feel like we’re going back to the old days—when they used to use that word to justify putting us in institutions. The R-word Is a dangerous word because it demonizes those who have the disabilities and suggests that we’re not human. I’m scared that they might try to use that word again as a medical term. We cannot let them do that.”
Shawn Aleong, Pennsylvania
An up close photo of Veronica, a Hispanic woman with a disability
“If you use the R-word, it tells me you don’t care about me or people like me. If you use the R-word, it tells me you don’t really respect me or people like me. If you use the R-word, it tells me you don’t know who I really am or what I can do—but it also tells me all I need to know about you.”
Veronica Ayala, Texas
An up close photo of Nicole, a White woman with IDD
“Every time I hear the R-word, I want to run, hide, and curl up into a ball. I was bullied and called the R-word from elementary school to early adulthood. I often wished I was normal. My only friends at school were the teachers on the playground. I also grew up with a brother saying the R-word when he would get pissed off, and it took years to get him and others to understand how harmful it is. We need to stop the R-word now more than ever. It’s just as harmful even if it’s not being said to someone’s face. It’s time to demand a world where people with disabilities—visible or invisible—are respected and accepted for who they are!”
Nicole LeBlanc, Maryland

“The R-word hurts me. I was called the R-word by my school psychologist when I was in kindergarten. They told my parents I would not amount to anything—that I’d always be dependent on someone. Considering where I am today, I would say she was very, very wrong. I am not the only one who has been called this harmful word. Many of us with disabilities still face this same type of ignorance and discrimination.”
Taylor Crisp, Washington State
An up close photo of Ricky, a Black man with IDD
“Back in the day, people referred to people like me as the R-word. We are not that word. We may all communicate differently and have different needs—that is normal. We also have strengths and values. We fought for many years not just to change the use of the R-word, but also the negative thinking about people with IDD. Using this word goes backwards. The younger generation should go forward. I want to see them have an easier time than I had. It is time to finally bury the R-word.”
Ricky Broussard, Texas
An up close photo of Charlotte, a White woman with Down syndrome
“As someone born with a disability, it is heartbreaking that the R-word is still being used. People with disabilities have been trying for a very long time to have their inherent worth and value acknowledged society, and have campaigned for the R-word to be removed from use. It is disgraceful that we still have to ask for basic respect. The R-word is derogatory and dehumanizing. I wish that people would look beyond themselves and see people with disabilities for who we are and the abilities we have, not just our disability diagnoses. We want to be treated with dignity and respect, just like everyone else.”
Charlotte Woodward, Virginia
An up close photo of Zoe, a Black woman with IDD, with her hands covering her mouth
“The R-word really hurts, even if someone says it as a joke. I’m a person, not a label. I matter, we matter, and everyone deserves to be treated with respect and kindness.”
Zoe-Rebekah Bostic, Georgia

“I was called the R-word for many years in school, especially on the bus. It meant I was dumb or stupid, and I buried my head in books to deal with it. To hear people use that word is demeaning. There’s no real excuse for it. It’s sad that in our schools, this kind of thing isn’t taught. Before you use it again, you should find out what the word means because you have offended me and hundreds of thousands of people by using it.”
Chad Widing, Connecticut
An up close photo of Barb, a White woman with IDD
“In high school, I was called the R-word all the time. It made me shrink away—it felt terrible. I can’t believe it’s coming back. I feel very hurt, especially after we fought to get rid of that word. No one should be called it, even if they “don’t mean it.” We are people, just like everyone else.”
Barbara Coppens, New Jersey
An up close photo of Ray, a White man with IDD
“Back in the 1970s, I was called every name in the book. They called me the R-word, crazy, and other hateful stuff. People told me I didn’t belong in the neighborhood or I didn’t belong at work. That is bullying! It lowered my self-esteem. People who use that word must not have any idea what it’s like to be labeled the R-word. I wish they could walk in my shoes to see how it feels. We need to stop labeling people. We are all somebody. I should be able to freely go into the community without this stigma.”
Ray Schuholz, Michigan
An up close photo of Sarvesh, a Middle Eastern man with IDD
“The R-word makes me feel sad. I feel that I should speak up and ask people to stop using the R-word. The word is ableist and derogatory. It stereotypes people, promotes institutionalization, and encourages eugenics.”
Sarvesh Chandran, Arizona


If reading this made you uncomfortable—good. That means you care.

But not saying the R-word isn’t enough.

Some of the people you’ve heard from here—like Jill, Nicole, and Ricky—have helped lead efforts in their states to remove the R-word from laws and policies. Changing laws is an important step, but changing hearts, language, and culture takes all of us.

We need you to say something when others use the R-word.
We need you to share this blog widely.
We need you to be part of the reason this word finally fades from our culture.

The R-word still hurts. But together, we can make sure it has no place in our future.

Note: Throughout this piece, we’ve chosen to refer to the slur in question as “the R-word,” and we’ve capitalized the R to recognize the serious harm the word represents. Naming it this way centers its weight and impact, without unnecessarily repeating a word that has caused so much pain.