She's also experienced and witnessed discrediting of her own and others' autonomy, she says.
"People have cut in front of me when I'm about to perform a task, and it ends up often physically hurting myself and the other person," she explains. "They 'just wanted to help,' but since we did not communicate, neither of us knew what the other was doing."
Carville says she feels privileged that people can at least see her disability. Meanwhile, 88% of the disabilities that afflict people today are not visible.
In those circumstances, the average person often would not know there is a person with a disability in their office. Because of that, Carville says that many people think just building a ramp on a building with steps is the one-and-done way to fix ableism, but they forget about braille, seeing-eye dogs/assistant dogs, ergonomic workspaces, easy-to-grip tools, closed captions, class note-takers, recording devices for lectures and all the other ways companies could improve their workspaces and make them more accessible for those with disabilities.
"Words matter," she also adds. "Using words like 'see, stand, run,' etc. might have nothing to do with an action, but people can say things like 'advocate for,' or 'enter in a race/election,' etc. instead."
And, speaking of communication, always asking and prying for the "sob story" of how one became disabled is inappropriate, she advises.
"Most people were born with their disability, and it's what we know, so there was no major life adjustment, except in the case of inaccessible environments," she explains. "There isn't always a sob story to tell to an able-bodied person to pity us from that moment forward."