Alabama’s “Invisible Disabilities” ID Proposal

Human Rights Perspective on the Proposal to Put “Invisible Disabilities” on Alabama IDs

There is buzz around Alabama’s proposal to designate “invisible disabilities” on state ID cards by the end of this fiscal year. This legislative initiative has sparked significant debate and attention. In November 2025, a bill was introduced in Alabama that would allow individuals to add an “invisible disability” designation to their driver’s licenses or state ID cards. Ontario Tillman, the state representative who is introducing this measure, argues that this “protective” measure could help law enforcement and first responders understand and quickly identify persons who may have non-apparent disabilities such as autism, PTSD, or traumatic brain injury. Tillman argues that this would be helpful for law enforcement and other officials to know because people with these and other invisible disabilities may respond to officers in unexpected ways that could cause situations to spiral dangerously. By equipping law enforcement and first responders with the information that the person they are engaging with has an invisible disability, Tillman hopes that there would be more patience and understanding built between responders and the person with the disability.

Invisible Disability ID Markers Elsewhere

States like Alaska, Maryland, and Colorado have started adding invisible disability indicators to driver’s licenses and ID cards, but they are taking different routes and raising similar debates. Alaska lets residents voluntarily add an invisible disability designation to licenses or IDs through its DMV, framing it as a tool to signal needs in situations like traffic stops or emergencies without revealing a specific diagnosis. Colorado offers a small icon on state IDs for people with invisible disabilities and, in the first year and a half of its implementation, 1,096 people signed up for the marker. In Maryland, “Eric’s Law” created an optional invisible disability notation after disability activist Eric Blessed Carpenter Grantham pushed for the state to offer this accommodation; the Maryland Department of Transportation now treats the marker as one more tool for safety and understanding. Across these states, the basic idea is similar: make it easier for disabled people to get accommodations or de-escalation in high-stress situations by building a quiet signal into ID systems.

People’s reactions, though, show how complicated it feels to put disability information on something as central as an ID. Supporters, including some disability advocates and families, say these markers can reduce misunderstandings with law enforcement, explain why someone might not respond typically in a crisis, and help folks access assistance in travel, medical, or security settings. Critics worry about privacy, data misuse, and the risk that a symbol meant to protect could expose disabled people to profiling or discrimination, especially if officers or agencies lack proper training. The same design that could make interactions safer may also force people to disclose something deeply personal just to move through public life, which is why most of these programs stress that the markers are voluntary and part of a broader conversation about rights, safety, and trust.

The Sunflower Movement

The Sunflower Movement takes a different, more global approach by using a simple visual symbol—a yellow sunflower on a green background—to quietly say, “I have a non-visible disability; I may need a little extra time or support.” The Hidden Disabilities Sunflower program started in UK airports and has spread across airlines, transit systems, and public venues in the U.S. and worldwide, with lanyards, pins, or badges that travelers can choose to wear. For people who travel, the appeal is that you don’t have to verbally explain a diagnosis every time you go through security or check in; instead, staff trained on the symbol are supposed to slow down, offer clearer instructions, or provide small accommodations like extra time, seating, or help navigating noisy, crowded spaces.

Airports from Albany to Boise and Nashville have adopted the sunflower lanyard program as part of disability awareness and inclusion initiatives, often pairing it with staff training and signage so people know what the symbol means. Travelers with autism, chronic pain, anxiety, or other invisible conditions have described feeling more seen and less judged when wearing the lanyard, especially in stressful spaces like TSA lines or boarding gates. At the same time, the sunflower is not legally binding—unlike ADA accommodations—and depends heavily on staff attitudes; if workers aren’t trained or take it as “just a nice idea,” the symbol can lose its power and even feel performative. For many in our generation, the Sunflower Movement sits at the intersection of design and dignity: it’s a low-tech, opt-in signal that can make travel more humane, but it also reminds us that real inclusion still requires policy, training, and accountability behind the symbol.

CRPD and Human Dignity

While there are clearly benefits to implementing such IDs, there are also human rights concerns that we need to be aware of when placing identifying markers on government documents. The Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities emphasizes respect for inherent dignity, autonomy, and privacy, which implicitly warns against measures that increase stigma or surveillance. An ID marker might help in some emergencies, but it can also conflict with the right to privacy and non-discrimination if used coercively or without strong safeguards. On one hand, the designation could protect life and security (civil and political rights) in police encounters; on the other, it could undermine equal treatment in employment, housing, or education if IDs are widely requested or copied, thereby harming economic, social, and cultural rights. From a human rights perspective, it is important to consider this bill’s implications for privacy, potential misuse of data, and the risk of profiling. There is the potential for harmful labeling labeling and hidden discrimination practices through this policy, particularly for marginalized communities already facing over-policing.

Conclusion

For Alabamians with “invisible” disabilities, this new ID proposal raises immediate questions: Who controls disability disclosure? How do policies intended to “help” sometimes deepen exclusion? And how can we push for alternatives—like better training, crisis-response reform, and universal design—rather than relying on labels that follow disabled people everywhere they go? Creating a human-rights-oriented world requires creativity and innovation, and ID markers and sunflowers are just two methods among many that we could implement to advance this cause. In pursuit of human rights, let’s be sure to consider the pros and cons of every step we take.

Amplifying Indigenous Rights & Reclaiming Sovereignty: A Human Rights Perspective in 2025

Local Example: Indigenous Youth and Environmental Advocacy

Indigenous communities worldwide have endured centuries of marginalization, land loss, and cultural erosion from colonial policies—patterns mirrored in Alabama by the Mvskoke (Creek), Cherokee, and Choctaw peoples. The principles of self-determination (UNDRIP Art. 3), cultural integrity (UNDRIP Art. 8), and land rights (UDHR Art. 17) form the backbone of international frameworks like the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR) and the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP), yet they’ve been systematically violated here. Understanding the legal, historical, and cultural ties between these principles and the human rights violations committed against indigenous peoples helps unpack questions around local sovereignty, environmental justice, and global human rights. This post links these global issues to Alabama’s realities, centering voices like the Poarch Band of Creek Indians (PCI) in their fight for cultural survival.

The Ongoing Challenge: Legal Barriers

Despite international frameworks like UNDRIP and national laws intended to protect Indigenous rights, significant challenges remain. The 1830 Indian Removal Act still echoes in legal briefs, and blood-quantum rules continue to limit tribal membership and threaten the continuity of communities. In Alabama, the Poarch Band of Creek Indians remains the only federally recognized tribe, which means many groups lack access to the critical resources and legal protections that come with federal recognition.

So, what echoes of the 1830 Indian Removal Act do we still see in legal briefs today? The big thing is how federal power over Native nations gets justified. Lawyers and courts still reference the government’s “plenary power” to control Native land, citizenship, and policy. This logic comes straight from the same paternalistic, colonial mindset that led to forced removals and broken treaties in the first place. In human rights language, this is a problem because it clashes with the principle that all peoples have the right to determine their own affairs and maintain control over their culture and territory. This is simply called the right to self-determination. When legal arguments rely on these old precedents, it shows that the legacy of the Indian Removal Act isn’t just history—it’s still shaping the boundaries of Indigenous rights today.

Now, let’s talk blood quantum. Blood quantum is the idea of using fractions—like “one-quarter” or “one-eighth” Native ancestry—to decide who is officially recognized as Indigenous. This system was imposed by the U.S. government as a way to shrink tribal rolls, limit legal obligations, and ultimately erode Indigenous communities over time. From a human rights perspective, blood quantum rules undermine the rights to identity, community, and non-discrimination. They reduce belonging to math, not lived culture. Over generations, these rules threaten to erase entire groups by making it harder for people to claim their heritage or pass it on.

Understanding blood quantum rules is a real-world example of how discrimination can be built into legal systems and policies—not just through obvious prejudice, but through technicalities that seem neutral on the surface. History is full of legal exclusions, and learning about Indigenous struggles connects to broader fights for justice and equality that affect all marginalized communities.

In summary, blood quantum rules conflict with core human rights values: the right to dignity, equality before the law, and the right for peoples to define their own identity. Recognizing how these rules work helps us see where human rights fall short in practice, and why these issues matter for anyone who cares about justice.

Opportunities for support and community do exist– the University of Alabama at Birmingham’s Minority Association of Pre-Health Students supports underrepresented pre-med students—including those from Indigenous backgrounds—through mentorship and support services, and beyond the classroom, students can engage with Indigenous culture and history through campus and community events. For example, the Mvskoke Nation Creek Friends Festival in Tory, Alabama, and the Trail of Tears Remembrance Ride in northern Alabama offer opportunities to learn directly from Indigenous leaders and participate in cultural preservation.

The Importance of Awareness and Informed Engagement

The challenges faced by Indigenous communities—such as language loss, environmental threats, and legal barriers—are significant. However, awareness and informed participation are powerful tools for change. People can make a difference by learning more, attending events, and engaging in campus discussions about human rights.

Follow news sources like Indian Country Today and High Country News.
Explore research and policy updates from organizations such as the National Congress of American Indians and the Indian Law Resource Center.
Support university initiatives that prioritize Indigenous faculty, curricula, and student services.

Conclusion

True justice for Indigenous communities in Alabama and elsewhere extends far beyond simply recognizing these groups’ history and struggles. It requires an ongoing commitment to learning, listening, and advocating for meaningful change. This means examining the systems and policies that have contributed to inequality and being willing to challenge them, even when it’s uncomfortable. Supporting Indigenous-led movements and respecting their sovereignty are crucial steps in this process.

Education is also a powerful tool—by learning about Indigenous histories and current issues, we can dispel myths and foster greater empathy, justice, and a moral society. But knowledge alone isn’t enough; it’s essential to translate understanding into action, whether that’s through volunteering, policy advocacy, or standing in solidarity at community events. Amplifying Indigenous voices ensures that solutions reflect the needs and perspectives of those most affected.

Ultimately, building a human rights community benefits everyone. Each of us has a role to play, whether as students, educators, or neighbors. When we choose to engage, support, and advocate, we help create a future where human rights and justice are not just ideals and theories, but realities experienced by all.

Breaking the Huddle: How Domestic Violence Touches Every Alabama Classroom

Domestic violence is not simply a distant tragedy or a headline attached to famous names—it’s a daily crisis with real victims in every Alabama community. Shortly after Christmas 2024, former NFL star Marcell Dareus was arrested in Hoover after a violent altercation. This event of early 2025, underscores how quickly intimate relationships can turn dangerous. This incident isn’t exceptional; it reflects a pattern that plays out in neighborhoods across the state, affecting classmates, coworkers, and friends. Understanding this reality isn’t optional for college students; it’s essential for building safer campuses and futures.

Domestic violence is a human rights violation disguised as a “private matter.” International law and human rights frameworks are clear: everyone has the right to live free from violence, fear, and discrimination. The Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR) guarantees, in Article 3, the right to “life, liberty and security of person.” Article 5 further prohibits “torture or cruel, inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment.” Survivors of domestic violence are entitled to protection, safety, and access to justice under both U.S. law and international treaties such as the Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination against Women (CEDAW).

A Crisis Next Door: The Local Reality

For many, domestic violence may seem like a private matter that happens behind closed doors, far removed from campus life. But the truth is, it’s happening in your neighborhood—maybe even in your residence hall. The case of Marcell Dareus, a 34-year-old celebrity athlete, and the woman he harmed, is only one of thousands of incidents reported each year in Alabama. This incident is a sobering reminder that abuse can escalate from arguments to physical violence in mere moments.

Picture this: It’s 2 a.m., one week after Christmas. In a quiet Hoover subdivision, just minutes from UAB’s campus, a well-known athlete shoves his partner to the ground and smashes her car with a metal object. The victim could easily be your lab partner, a friend from your sorority, or the barista who knows your coffee order by heart. The physical injuries may heal, but the psychological trauma—fear, anxiety, distrust—can linger for years. And for every headline-grabbing case, countless more go unreported, leaving survivors to navigate their pain in silence.

When we ask, “Why does this matter to me?” the answer is simple: domestic violence is not limited by age, class, or background. If you think it could never touch your world, consider that four in ten women and one in four men will experience intimate partner violence in their lifetimes. The odds are overwhelming that someone you know—maybe even someone you love—is a survivor.

The Numbers Lawmakers Can’t Ignore

The statistics surrounding domestic violence in Alabama and the US are both staggering and deeply personal. Domestic violence is cited as a top cause of homelessness for women, and it costs billions of dollars nationwide, with one estimate saying that intimate partner violence costs $5.8 billion annually nationwide. This figure includes $4.2 billion for medical costs for physical assault and $1.75 billion in lost productivity. The Institute for Women’s Policy Research estimates the cost of domestic violence at $9.3 billion (2017 dollars), which includes intimate partner violence, sexual assault, and stalking, with medical and lost wages as core components of these costs. For Alabama, extrapolations from Youth Today’s national $3.6 trillion lifetime estimate suggest that state costs are in the low billions. That’s a staggering sum that drains resources from schools, hospitals, and public safety initiatives—money that could otherwise go toward scholarships, better facilities, or improved mental health services.

Every minute, 24 Americans become victims of intimate partner violence, amounting to over 12 million people every year. These aren’t just statistics; they are stories of dreams deferred, educations interrupted, and futures derailed. The consequences ripple outward: children witnessing violence at home are more likely to struggle academically, develop emotional disorders, and, in some cases, perpetuate the cycle of abuse as adults. The link between domestic violence and future criminal behavior is undeniable.

The country’s legal landscape has only made things worse for those at risk of domestic violence. The Supreme Court’s decision to allow states to ban abortion has, according to experts, raised the likelihood that women will be subjected to intimate partner violence. When women lose reproductive autonomy, abusers gain more power, trapping partners in dangerous, sometimes deadly relationships. Domestic violence can be considered a human rights violation, and Alabama’s numbers show just how entrenched the problem is.

Taking Action: Your Role in the Playbook

If you think there’s nothing you can do, think again. Staying silent keeps domestic violence alive; speaking up can end it. Students are uniquely positioned to notice the warning signs—changes in a friend’s mood, unexplained injuries, sudden withdrawal from activities—and offer support. The most important thing you can do is believe survivors, connect them with campus and community resources, and, if necessary, call for help.

There are also events happening throughout Alabama to raise awareness and provide support. On October 24th in Tuscaloosa, the Purple Purse Drive collected donations for survivors. And in September in Birmingham, Safe Bar training was offered at 20 bars to help staff recognize and respond to abuse. These events are more than just calendar entries—they’re opportunities to get involved and save lives.

Conclusion: Your 60-Second Play Call

Domestic violence is not “someone else’s problem.” It is the roommate who flinches at loud noises, the teammate hiding bruises, the future nurse who can’t study because home isn’t safe. Every student in Alabama has the power—and the responsibility—to break the silence.

Post #RollAwayFromViolence on social media and tag @ALCADV to raise awareness.
Vote – some candidates’ domestic violence prevention plans are available at Vote411.org
The huddle is broken. Now make the tackle.

Need help now?

National DV Hotline: 1-800-799-7233
Alabama 24/7: 1-800-650-6522
Text “START” to 88788

Roll Tide—and roll away from violence.

Human Rights at a Crossroads: Balancing Intervention and Sovereignty

Introduction: Conflicts as Human Rights Challenges

hand as a symbol of stopping dictatorship, resistance for democracy in Venezuela, violation of human rights — By: rjankovsky
Source: Adobe Stock
Asset ID#: 919721402

Conflicts in Ukraine and Libya highlight the complexities of upholding human rights under international law. These crises test principles enshrined in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR) (1948), the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR) (1966), and the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights (ICESCR) (1966). This blog examines humanitarian intervention’s promises and pitfalls, drawing on Alan Kuperman’s 2023 analysis in Michael Goodhart’s Human Rights textbook, to inspire young readers to engage critically with global issues.

Human Rights in Conflict: Ukraine’s Test

The war in Ukraine challenges fundamental human rights, including the right to life and security (UDHR, 1948, Article 3) and health (ICESCR, 1966, Article 12). Threats to nuclear facilities exacerbate risks to civilians, while propaganda from state media undermines the right to information (ICCPR, 1966, Article 19). Economic sanctions, intended to curb aggression, often restrict access to food and medicine, violating economic, social, and cultural rights (ICESCR, 1966, Articles 11-12). This creates a dilemma: balancing accountability with humanitarian impacts requires careful policy design. The interplay of civil, political, and economic rights demands holistic strategies to protect vulnerable populations.

Interconnected Harms: Libya and Intervention’s Legacy

The 2011 NATO intervention in Libya, initially launched to protect civilians, shifted to regime change, prolonging the conflict and destabilizing the region (Kuperman, 2013). Exaggerated reports of atrocities fueled this escalation, contributing to unrest in Mali and Somalia (Kuperman, 2013). This aid also created a situation of “moral hazard” that encouraged rebels to escalate violence– essentially, they expected foreign support that would ameliorate the costs of that escalation, and so they escalated in a way they otherwise might not have done. This escalation, in turn, undermined humanitarian goals. Libya’s instability eroded both civil and political rights (e.g., security) and economic, social, and cultural rights (e.g., livelihoods), highlighting the need for evidence-based, limited interventions overseen by international bodies like the UN.

The link between misinformation and intervention connects to broader human rights challenges. In both Ukraine and Libya, distorted narratives violate the right to reliable information (ICCPR, 1966, Article 19), amplifying harm and complicating accountability (Kuperman 2023).

Digital Amplification: Misinformation’s Role

Misinformation often exacerbates human rights violations in conflict zones. In Ukraine, state-driven propaganda distorts public understanding, while in Libya, overstated atrocity reports fueled intervention (Kuperman, 2013). These violations of the right to information (ICCPR, 1966, Article 19) highlight the digital age’s challenges. Institutional delays, such as late Universal Periodic Review (UPR) submissions by states like the U.S., further erode trust in global systems. Digital platforms that deliberately or accidentally spread misinformation and disinformation amplify these issues, necessitating media literacy and advocacy to protect access to truth.

Sovereignty vs. R2P: A Delicate Balance

The tension between state sovereignty and human rights protection remains central to international law. The Responsibility to Protect (R2P) doctrine, which says that states should intervene in each other’s affairs when human rights are being egregiously violated, was endorsed by the UN in 2005. This doctrine aims to prevent atrocities, but its inconsistent application in cases like Rwanda and Syria reveals challenges. Intervention in another country violates state sovereignty, while nonintervention can mean that a genocide will continue. Clearer rules, as Ikenberry suggests, are needed to ensure interventions respect sovereignty while protecting civilians (Kuperman, 2023). Reforming R2P to prioritize evidence-based action is critical for effective global governance.

Youth Advocacy: Shaping Human Rights

Young people are vital to advancing human rights. Conflicts like Ukraine and Libya affect peers through disrupted education (ICESCR, 1966, Article 13) and suppressed speech (ICCPR, 1966, Article 19), while future careers in policy or law offer opportunities to drive change. Students can join Amnesty International’s youth networks, participate in Model UN, or amplify UPR findings on platforms like X with hashtags like #HumanRights or #R2P. By questioning narratives and advocating for accountability, youth can shape a future where human rights are upheld.

Conclusion

Conflicts in Ukraine and Libya reveal the complexities of balancing sovereignty, intervention, and human rights. Evidence-based policies, protection of information rights, and reformed R2P frameworks are essential for progress. Young advocates, equipped with critical thinking and informed by history, can drive this change through grassroots efforts and digital campaigns, ensuring human dignity prevails.

References

Ikenberry, G. J. (2016). Sovereignty vs. Human Rights. YouTube, University of Pennsylvania. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S534ZqxjPgg.
Kuperman, A. J. (2013). A model humanitarian intervention? Reassessing NATO’s Libya campaign. International Security, 38(1), 105-136. https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/13600826.2013.824513.
Kuperman, A. J. (2023) “Humanitarian Intervention,” in Human Rights: Theory and Practice, edited by M. Goodhart. Oxford University Press: 178-200. https://www.oxfordpoliticstrove.com/display/10.1093/hepl/9780190085469.001.0001/isbn-9780190085469-book-part-12
United Nations. (1948). Universal Declaration of Human Rights. https://www.un.org/en/about-us/universal-declaration-of-human-rights.
United Nations. (1966). International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR). https://www.ohchr.org/en/instruments-mechanisms/instruments/international-covenant-civil-and-political-rights.
United Nations. (1966). International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights (ICESCR). https://www.ohchr.org/en/instruments-mechanisms/instruments/international-covenant-economic-social-and-cultural-rights.
United Nations General Assembly. (2005). World Summit Outcome Document (R2P Framework). https://documents.un.org/doc/undoc/gen/n05/487/60/pdf/n0548760.pdf?OpenElement&_gl=1*fnd0ef*_ga*MTk4NjU4Mzg0MC4xNzU5NDI4ODQx*_ga_TK9BQL5X7Z*czE3NjEyNDc5MTYkbzMkZzAkdDE3NjEyNDc5MTYkajYwJGwwJGgw.