If you’re more offended by language than systemic ableism, it’s time to rethink your priorities.

If you're more offended by language than systemic ableism, it's time to rethink your priorities.
I get the occasional complaint about my use of the word cr@p or cr@ppy in my post. Let’s get one thing straight: if the word cr@p is what gets under your skin, but you’re comfortable ignoring the very real, pervasive harm caused by systemic ableism, your priorities are out of alignment.
People with disabilities face physical, digital, systemic, and attitudinal barriers every day that prevent them from participating fully in society. Compared to those injustices, being offended by a very mild curse word is, frankly, trivial.
The energy spent on policing language like “cr@p” could be directed toward dismantling systems that marginalize and exclude. Words are important, but their weight pales in comparison to the impact of inaccessible technology, discriminatory hiring practices, or the lack of inclusive policies. Accessibility is not a “nice-to-have.” It’s a fundamental human right. When it is a human right that *I* am personally affected by, I have a right to call the decision, code, or process cr@p.
Systemic ableism is embedded in how organizations operate. It shows up in decisions to launch a product without accessibility features, in hiring practices that ignore candidates with disabilities, and in infrastructure that excludes people from participating in their communities. These are not abstract concepts; they are daily realities for people with disabilities.
Systemic ableism is not a theoretical issue. It’s a tangible, harmful reality for millions of people. If a word bothers you more than that reality, it’s not the word that needs changing; it’s your perspective.
Alt: If you’re more offended by language than systemic ableism, it’s time to rethink your priorities.