Please respect your editor—especially your editor with a disability.
Many people don’t picture editors as having disabilities. After all, “an editor is supposed to know about writing better than I do.”
But many disabilities are invisible, and an editor can have a disability which is either invisible or more visible.
An editor can be blind. I personally have never known a blind editor, but I know a legally blind attorney. This person’s profession requires a lot of reading and writing. She has done a fabulous job as an attorney using accommodations, such as someone reading her documents out loud and a computer program which enlarges all of the font on her screen. I can certainly picture such accommodations helping an editor who is visually impaired.
An editor can struggle with a disease that requires many medical visits, such as cancer that requires chemotherapy or a kidney problem that requires dialysis. This editor does their very best to meet your deadline, but they may possibly have to renegotiate if their treatments cause them to become sick or weak.
An editor may also get pregnant (not a disability, but a condition nonetheless) and have to go on maternity leave, even if she is self-employed; she will need time to get adjusted to a new member of her family. Even after she returns to work, don’t be surprised if you hear squalling in the background during the next Zoom call with her.
An editor may have a learning disability. Please don’t write them off. A better term for such a condition is “learning difference.” This editor can learn just as well as you can. They just have to do it in a different way—one which was probably not available to them in school. They can edit just as well as other editors, but they need to do it in a different way. When they were a child, they most likely dealt with ridicule from their teachers and peers while their parents swam through the ordeal of getting them a 504 plan. Not fun for anyone.
Please be kind to your editor.
