Being ‘other’ twice over

My sister Raana – a British Asian woman whose support needs are not initially obvious – is not the sort of person most people think of when they hear the word “disability”.

Her disability is also a taboo in many South Asian communities (as, to be fair, it is in many societies). So Raana faces both external assumptions from professionals and internal, cultural stigma.

These issues are among those that shaped my book on racism and ableism, Double Discrimination, which was driven by my sister and my experiences as her sibling. Its aim is to more fully investigate the inequalities faced by learning disabled people of colour and their families.

As odd as it seems, it was not until the Covid-19 pandemic that I truly got to grips with Raana’s dual identity as a learning disabled person of colour and the full extent of what that meant for her opportunities and treatment in life.

During Covid and the various lockdowns, I focused my reporting on how the pandemic was exacerbating the inequalities already heaped on learning disabled people and their families – and how black, Asian and
racially minoritised communities were at the greatest risk of death and illness.

Until then, I’d focused on Raana’s support needs through the lens of disability because arguing for help has always been related to this, explaining what she can’t do and what help she needs to do it.

I have experienced prejudicial comments and behaviour, not least at the start of my career as a young Asian woman in newsrooms dominated by older, white men. I remember one of my editors – clearly intrigued by my background – asked me why I wanted to be “an Asian journalist”.

My editor’s words were not the worst I have had in my personal or professional life, far from it, but his question reflected how quickly one person can single out a visible characteristic that is different from their own, whether that’s colour, gender or age.

But if you have an additional layer of difference not only because of your colour but also because you learn, speak, move and behave differently owing to a learning disability, there is even more reason to be othered.

Double Discrimination is a book about this othering, about how people of colour who have a learning disability face both racism and ableism. It is about how learning disability and ethnicity overlap and the discriminatory sum of their parts.

It is about a failure in society – by which I mean the public as well as those in positions of power – to acknowledge how the overlapping aspects of people’s identities affect their treatment. It’s about what ignoring this means for people now and in the future. And it’s about what can be done to challenge the status quo.

Data dearth

Estimates – which are probably underestimates – suggest there are at least one million black or minority ethnic disabled people living in Britain, including those who have physical or learning disabilities. So around one in 10 of all disabled people also happen to be people of colour. Yet there is no accurate figure for how many people of colour have a learning disability, which gives you an idea of how little attention is given to the area.

Reasearching my book also revealed how deeply rooted negative attitudes can be sparked, depending on what else is going on in the UK and abroad. As I worked on the book, for example, the world was becoming increasingly polarised and our already fragile welfare and support systems were being eroded, from disability benefits to support for special educational needs.

Labour, which came into government as I was researching Double Discrimination, became just the latest administration to further weaken already creaking health, social care and education systems (issues that Community Living has long highlighted). Labour, like other governments before it, used language that scapegoated disabled people.

Outside the UK, the rise of the far right in Europe became an additional backdrop as I wrote this book. In America, democratic socialist Zohran Mamdani won the 2025 New York mayoral race and became the first Muslim mayor of America’s largest city, leading to far-right fearmongering and Islamophobic narratives in parts of the media, politics and online.

Meanwhile, Donald Trump presided over a crackdown on immigration and diversity initiatives – the kind that support and raise awareness about disadvantaged communities (Community Living columnist Mary O’Hara has reported on this). This increasingly hostile and exclusionary environment gave the themes explored in Double Discrimination a heightened sense of urgency.

Overlooked in social justice

Issues such as unconscious bias, white privilege and institutional racism are recognised as challenges that require collective attention. It is widely accepted that action is needed to tackle these issues within organisations and in society more widely, while also avoiding positive discrimination or tokenism. Yet, in general, learning disabled people of colour are not thought of within these social justice concepts. Nor are they really included in the empowerment agenda in disability activism and self-advocacy.

Among the people with whom I discussed such issues was Sam Clark, chief executive of Learning Disability England.

Clark told me of the group’s work with collaborators such as the Race Equality Foundation charity: “What we saw and heard is that loads of people are treated badly but it wasn’t immediately clear to them if this was because of their colour or their disability; they couldn’t see the intersectionality.”

Clark introduced me to Aisha Edwards, a member of charity Lewisham Speaking Up, a self-advocacy group. Edwards has considered issues around racism and ableism as part of local forum Lewisham People’s Parliament.

A 2023 report from this group echoes what Clark told me, noting that racism and ableism was “a difficult subject to get everyone to talk about”.

The report shows how people can’t or won’t discuss the issues: “Some people got mixed up about being discriminated against because of their learning disability, rather than race… We tried to get some guest speakers to come and speak on the subject of race. Unfortunately, we couldn’t find anyone who was able to come and join us.”

Edwards told me why the issues must be recognised, and talked about the lack of easy-to-understand information about racial justice: “It’s important we’re heard and everyone has an equal chance in life.

“Sometimes people with learning disabilities aren’t talking about it because it’s not easy to understand, like there’s no easy read about Black Lives Matter. And, sometimes, I feel like you want to bury your head in the sand. There are so many layers to it, it is huge, and it’s like: where do we begin?”

In the face of such problems – and in terms of where to begin, as Edwards asks – my book looks at some of the solutions.

The many people and organisations leading the way and who share their insights in my book include activist and researcher Paul Christian. He describes his collaborative project to make black history more accessible, working with Open University researcher Sue Ledger and the George Padmore Institute, a black British history archive.

It was conversations with the many people at the grassroots, such as Edwards and Christian, defiantly challenging double discrimination, that helped steer my book towards being an introduction to the issues.

My book is a conversation-starter, a provocation and a showcase for what’s possible if more of us join those shining a light on an overlooked dual injustice.

This is an edited extract from Double Discrimination, Jessica Kinglsey Publishers 2026