When I was visiting a museum recently, I walked out of a disabled restroom and was stopped by a woman who told me I was not allowed to use that bathroom, but I am allowed and I needed the access. I have a non-visible disability and I find myself constantly needing to prove that I “deserve” the accommodations I require. I do not use accessible resources when I can manage without them. However, that is my choice to make and I should not be judged for my decision. I cannot stand for the same amount of time as an able-bodied person but often I know that I will not be accommodated if my disability is not made visible from the start. For example, I find myself needing to use a wheelchair in airports even though I do not want to, because I cannot stand in line for long periods of time and there is no alternate way to get through security. These are challenges that many people who pass as the “norm” face in their daily lives.

“Passing” is a term that was originally used before the Civil War to refer to people from the Black community who could “pass” as White because of their lighter skin tone. They would be treated better and possibly avoid slavery—if they did not reveal their true identity. Even as the United States moved towards racial integration, passing is still a strategy that some Black people use to navigate a hostile world.

However, passing is a concept that people tend to struggle with. For Black people, passing includes the personal struggle of identifying as part of the Black community while not being seen as part of it, but it also comes with the benefit of not facing the biases that most Black people face. This can include exclusion from the community at times. Today, the term refers to more than race and includes other identities that can go unseen. For many, it can be beneficial to “pass” as the identity which will face less discrimination—whether that’s being White, non-disabled, straight, or something else. People who pass are sometimes also seen as dishonest by others when they learn that the identity they had assumed for the person is, actually, wrong.

The disabled community is unique in its lack of communal exclusion of people who have non visible disabilities and pass as able-bodied and able-minded. However, in order to receive the accommodations they need, people with invisible disabilities need to actively advocate for themselves. It takes a lot of effort to constantly have to prove oneself and fight for your needs. I have memorized complicated medical terms to refer to my disability because people stop questioning me when I start using big terms. I find myself including it in my basic introductions, giving out my medical information freely, because people have questioned why I did not mention it earlier or whether I was trying to take advantage of the system. This should not be something I have to deal with just because I look able bodied. On the other hand, I have an advantage that visibly disabled people do not have. I do not have to face the automatic biases people tend to have against people who are visibly disabled. Still, most people, in or out of the disabled community, would agree that everyone should receive accommodations when they need them, but that does not prevent insecurities in one's identity when they have to constantly prove it.

When it comes to race and ethnicity, though, people tend to be a lot more conflicted. There are unquestionable benefits that come with being White and looking White. For instance, my dad is Jewish and Hispanic and has a white complexion. He often struggles with whether to check the “Hispanic” box on official forms since he receives the advantages of appearing White. But how can he not check it when it is a key part of his heritage, an integral part of his identity, and something he is proud of? I have the same difficulty. I am also White, so like many people who are mixed race, I have the option of passing, but also face the challenge of openly identifying with both parts of my heritage. I do not look Hispanic, my Spanish isn’t fluent, and I do not face the systemic discrimination and racism that many Hispanic people struggle with every day. How can I wear my identity with pride when I do not face the consequences other people do? I am invested in deepening my connection to my roots, which is why I am studying Spanish and why I want to learn more about my culture. My Hispanic heritage is something I want to wear with pride, but can I claim it if I do not deal with the struggles that come with it?

In my own life, I have found that being disabled and half Hispanic are parts of my identity that I want others to be aware of. Interestingly, I don’t feel the need to do the same with my Jewish identity. When I was younger, wearing my Jewish star necklace was a source of pride, yet also a way to show that I am Jewish. With time and more opportunities to connect with my Jewish identity, I have become confident and secure in it. Moreover, now that I have been exposed to antisemitic violence around me, I often choose to pass, to not highlight my religion. Although my identities all intersect, the ones I am most secure in are those I do not feel a need to display. While I have no need for the validation of others in my Jewish identity, I do need people’s support in my identities that encounter more microaggressions. With my disability, I am dependent on society to receive what I need, but I am being marginalized and put on the defensive by those who question my disability. Comments like “are you so lazy you cannot walk up one flight of stairs?” tear down my confidence in my own identity. Those identities that are more vulnerable to others’ questioning are also the ones in need of support leading to a vicious cycle of vulnerability where they are made more vulnerable by aggressive comments.

When we prioritize visibility, we push people who pass onto the margins of marginalized communities. If they choose not to actively “come out” to the world, they are not accepted as their full selves because people assume they fit the standard norm. To be ”known” they have to shout out and make their marginalized identities known too. But that is difficult. It becomes a fight to prove yourself with every action and word. The identities I feel safest and most assured in are the ones I don't need to shout out or put on display. My Judaism is there and it's mine. I can pass or I can shout but I know where I stand.

But with my Hispanic heritage and my disability, I feel like I sometimes walk on a tightrope, trying not to fall. There should not be a need for people to defend their own identities to themselves or others. How can we build a constructive society when identities are questioned and reliant upon the experience of discrimination? We need to confront our own biases in order to reduce discrimination and prevent people from feeling the need to pass. Within our own communities, we need to put in the effort to trust people's truth and not question their identity. Ask yourself, what biases are you bringing into your interactions? Are you doing it to aid them, or are you in fact hurting them by questioning their identity?