I wanted to try on a pair of jeans in a now defunct Mervyn's store on Southern Avenue in Tempe. Mervyn's had a disabled dressing room wide enough for wheelchairs to fit inside. As I entered the dressing room, all the try on stalls were empty except the disabled one. The woman inside did not have a wheelchair or walker. I peaked underneath. So I waited. And waited. Finally Miss Things struts out with holding a slew of skimpy skirts and jeans. Politely I ask her why she chose this try on still since all the others were empty. With a smirk, she says, "I like this one. Get over it."
I say, "One day you may be in my chair and you'll meet a smart mouth like you. Have a nice day."
I rolled through Fry's, a local food store, on my way to buy soy milk. An middle age man says, "How come you get to ride?"
For what other reason would I use a wheelchair? To get a seat on the bus?
I feel like calling him a weenie, but I say, "Back off, I'm a goddess."
I sometimes relax in the hot tub at the gym. It's good for my arthritic spine. One day I approached the hot tub with my walker and a man glances up at me and asks, "What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing. What's wrong with you?"
I don't feel there's anything wrong with me. I am a well adjuted reasonably happy disabled person. I don't see my disability as a liability but rather as part of me.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
What able bodied people say to me
As usual I took my two mutts out for a walk on 1/6/94 after work. I hated my temp job by the way at an Ivy League College. I have a master's degree in social work but couldn't find a job so I settled for a mindless temp job to pay the bills. After another hopelessly boring day at work, I took my two mutts out for a walk. I never came home. A car rammed into me, hurling by body through the air. I landed in a ditch, bloodied and battered. My poor dogs probably wondered why I couldn't get up. Two months later I came home. At the age of 39, I wasn't ready to become disabled, losing my working career and part of my mobility.
I reinvented myself as a writer, pet therapist, and resumed animal shelter volunteer work. In 2004, I began volunteer work in the office of former Gov. Janet Napolitano.
As a wheelchair user, well actually it's a motorized scooter, I've encountered a string of idiots. I am astounded by things people say to me. I'd be ashamed but evidently other people are not.
Here's an example.
I was physically fit before the accident. I ran in three NYC marathons. I took up a modified exercise program about two years after the accident. I am on the second floor of the gym. As I am doing floor exercises a woman glances at my scooter then at me. I wonder if she's going to say something moronic about disabled people exercising. She asks me how I got the scooter to the second floor. I say, "I carried it on my back." She appears puzzled. I feel like saying hey meathead, if I am disabled enough to use a scooter how else but on an elevator would I get up here? Finally, I nod to the elevator and say I rode.
I am surprised and disappointed by how many able bodied people abuse the set asides for disabled people. Example. There are parking spots nearly everywhere with the ubiquitous wheelchair signs on them denoting they are for drivers with disabled plate or placards. Able bodied people park in them all the time. If I see an offender I stop them and say you forgot to display your sign, which sometimes is the case. More often than not, however, they don't have a handicapped permit. And they don't care either. Their comment remark: I was just a few minutes to which I say, "While you were inside, I came along and couldn't get the space because of you." A few people seem contrite but most curse or swear at me. I always say, "Someday you or a loved one will need a disabled space and you won't get it because a selfiish person like you will be illegally parked there."
Bathrooms are another problem. In small bathrooms with just a few stalls I don't expect women to keep the disabled bathroom available. However, in large restrooms when there are plenty of stalls I have high expectations. Leave the accessible bathrooms for people in wheelchairs. And guess what? Most people do not. They sit on the bowl, talk on the phone, or read while I wait outside with a full bladder. Am I asking too much by expecting people to show consideration? Apparently so.
And then there's the movie theatres. I live in Tempe, AZ. I usually see movies in a Scottsdale theatre called the Camelview. They show quirky movies I like. To get a seat in the disabled section I have to arrive half an hour early. Able bodied people like the disabled section too. I've seen healthy men and women refuse to get up and watch old ladies hobble on walkers to take seats 3 or 4 rows in. The affluent have no shame I tell you. If I didn't like the movies at the Camelview I'd spend my money elsewhere. Only in Scottsdale do I face this selfishness. People in other cities generally leave the handicapped section alone unless they are really handicapped.
Not in Scottsdale. They are handicapped by bad attitudes.
I reinvented myself as a writer, pet therapist, and resumed animal shelter volunteer work. In 2004, I began volunteer work in the office of former Gov. Janet Napolitano.
As a wheelchair user, well actually it's a motorized scooter, I've encountered a string of idiots. I am astounded by things people say to me. I'd be ashamed but evidently other people are not.
Here's an example.
I was physically fit before the accident. I ran in three NYC marathons. I took up a modified exercise program about two years after the accident. I am on the second floor of the gym. As I am doing floor exercises a woman glances at my scooter then at me. I wonder if she's going to say something moronic about disabled people exercising. She asks me how I got the scooter to the second floor. I say, "I carried it on my back." She appears puzzled. I feel like saying hey meathead, if I am disabled enough to use a scooter how else but on an elevator would I get up here? Finally, I nod to the elevator and say I rode.
I am surprised and disappointed by how many able bodied people abuse the set asides for disabled people. Example. There are parking spots nearly everywhere with the ubiquitous wheelchair signs on them denoting they are for drivers with disabled plate or placards. Able bodied people park in them all the time. If I see an offender I stop them and say you forgot to display your sign, which sometimes is the case. More often than not, however, they don't have a handicapped permit. And they don't care either. Their comment remark: I was just a few minutes to which I say, "While you were inside, I came along and couldn't get the space because of you." A few people seem contrite but most curse or swear at me. I always say, "Someday you or a loved one will need a disabled space and you won't get it because a selfiish person like you will be illegally parked there."
Bathrooms are another problem. In small bathrooms with just a few stalls I don't expect women to keep the disabled bathroom available. However, in large restrooms when there are plenty of stalls I have high expectations. Leave the accessible bathrooms for people in wheelchairs. And guess what? Most people do not. They sit on the bowl, talk on the phone, or read while I wait outside with a full bladder. Am I asking too much by expecting people to show consideration? Apparently so.
And then there's the movie theatres. I live in Tempe, AZ. I usually see movies in a Scottsdale theatre called the Camelview. They show quirky movies I like. To get a seat in the disabled section I have to arrive half an hour early. Able bodied people like the disabled section too. I've seen healthy men and women refuse to get up and watch old ladies hobble on walkers to take seats 3 or 4 rows in. The affluent have no shame I tell you. If I didn't like the movies at the Camelview I'd spend my money elsewhere. Only in Scottsdale do I face this selfishness. People in other cities generally leave the handicapped section alone unless they are really handicapped.
Not in Scottsdale. They are handicapped by bad attitudes.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
