Empathy Is A Verb
— guest post by Jennifer Hathorn – Union Steward AFSCME L328 —
Merriam-Webster defines empathy as "the action of understanding, being aware of, being sensitive to, and vicariously experiencing the feelings, thoughts, and experience of another."
Empathy is indeed a noun. But to me, it is also a verb. It is an action. A daily practice. A choice we make to see one another's humanity, especially when their experiences are different from our own. As union members and as workers, I believe empathy is something we should carry in both our heads and our hearts. This Disability Pride Month, I want to talk about why accessibility matters to you, dear reader.
Before I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder in 2016, I rarely thought about accessibility. I didn't need to. I could walk into almost any building, sit through almost any meeting, and move through the world assuming it had been built with people like me in mind.
Then my world changed.
The years that followed were some of the hardest of my life. There were medications that worked until they didn't, overwhelming fatigue, and the loneliness of trying to function in a world that often expects everyone to think, move, and work the same way. Later, unexplained hip pain slowly stole my mobility until I needed a cane, and eventually a wheelchair. I discovered that accessibility isn't something you notice when the world is built for you. You notice it the moment it isn't. When people ask why I use a cane, I often tell them the version of the story I think they'll understand. The truth is more complicated. Disability often is.
What I wish people understood is that disability isn't something that happens to "other people." If we're fortunate enough to live long lives, our bodies and our minds will change. We will all experience seasons where we need help, accommodation, or a little more patience than we did yesterday. That's why accessibility matters. Not because it's charity. It is empathy put into action.
Our Union fights for workplaces where everyone can succeed, whether that means accessible spaces, reasonable accommodation, or simply creating a culture where people feel safe asking for what they need. That's not lowering the bar. That's removing unnecessary barriers, so every worker can do their best work.
This Disability Pride Month, I hope you'll practice empathy. Listen before making assumptions. Believe people when they tell you what they need. Help build a workplace where no one feels like they must justify their humanity before receiving support.
Empathy may be a noun. But together, we can make it a verb.