Meet The Person Behind The Disability

Picture yourself in a wheelchair. Add this fact - it is permanent. There are no miracles left. Forget about the cause; this is the life you have now. There is no choice but to accept your fate and make the best of it. Got the picture? Now, go out into society and see what you run into.

Most people don't see the person behind the disability. You are treated not as a person with a disability, but as a disabled person. People look at the things you can't do rather than the things you can do.

In stores, clerks talk to your companions, but not to you. In restaurants, everyone gets a menu but you. People automatically assume that a physical disability also means a mental disability. People don't talk directly to you.

Most people assume you are more disabled than you are. Their disbelief, stemming from their incorrect assumptions, is painfully obvious. "You have a job?" "You go to school?" "You can wash the dishes?"

Most people avoid you. You scare them. You make them feel uncomfortable. They don't know what to say to you, so they don't say anything. Clerks don't approach you. You wait for store clerks to notice you so you can get items off a top shelf.

It is a strange feeling. Sometimes you are in the spotlight and being stared at. Other times you are treated like you are invisible.

Children are wonderful. They approach you. They aren't afraid. They come up and ask questions. Before you can answer, a mother steps in, grabs her child and jerks him away, saying "Don't bother him!"

The child learns that you aren't a normal person. The lesson is learned early, "A person with a disability is not a normal human being and should be avoided." You feel like a leper.

Friends avoid you. People you know and know well start avoiding you. Friends assume that you do not want to hear about their problems. Friendship involves sharing both ways. You aren't given a chance to give back.

If you had a broken leg, would your friends desert you? Of course they wouldn't; they can handle a temporary disability. With a permanent disability, you have changed. You can no longer do the things you used to do with your friends. Your disability brings more responsibility and inconvenience for them. Some of your friends can't handle it.

If your friends go out in public with you, they will be stared at too. You are used to it; they are not. It is too uncomfortable for some of them.

People are too intrusive or too helpful. People are generally good and offer to help. Sometimes their help is overwhelming. They take over without listening to your instruction or believing your "no" means anything. They don't give you a chance. Without your guidance, they don't know what they are doing and make things worse. They assume things they should be asking about.

Some people assume that because you are disabled, you have nothing better to do with your time than to tell them your life history. Having a visible disability doesn't mean you have nothing important to do. In fact, because of the disability, there is even more preparation and tighter scheduling.

People without visible handicaps don't have strangers approach them and ask "What happened to you?" Yet, you are confronted by people who want to know this even before they find out your name.

Some planners are obviously not handicapped. Have they ever been in a public restroom and not been able to close the door behind them? This is something you are confronted with all the time. The stalls for the handicapped are not long enough. It fits the pattern: no brains, no feelings, and now no modesty.

Do the people who put handicapped parking on top of a hill know what it's like to be in a runaway wheelchair? Do they understand how much room it takes for a wheelchair lift and to get off the lift once it is extended?

You turn down social invitations because there are no elevators or ramps in buildings. You wait in the snow because some unaware or thoughtless driver has parked too close to your vehicle. You encounter many doors that are not wide enough for a wheelchair and others that are too heavy to open.

It is difficult to find an apartment with a "roll-in" shower. Your housing choices are limited. They are often in apartment buildings or high rises designed for the elderly. You encounter rude comments like like "They - the disabled - shouldn't live here," or "They take up too much room in the elevator."

Now the experiment is over. Did your disability make you any less human? Were you upset at the way you were treated? When you see people with disabilities, don't ignore them. Don't be too careful. Don't be afraid. Don't assume too much. Be yourself. Meet the person behind the disability.