Christina is one of the recipients of the Attitude Trust Communication Scholarship. In this blog, she writes about the misjudgements she's experienced as a wheelchair-user.
Recently, as I was scrolling through my news feed I came across an artwork that hit really close to home. It was a drawing depicting a girl in a wheelchair facing a wall of speech bubbles containing many common misconceptions by able bodied people regarding life as a wheelchair user. The main caption in bold font stated “Nevertheless, she persisted”.
For the majority of my life, I have been a wheelchair user and I have had my fair share of awkward encounters with people who have often expressed these types of sentiments whilst in my presence.
The statements that caught my eye in the drawing the most were the ones that questioned ability and lifestyle. Some of which included:
“It’s so good to see you out and about.” Do you expect me to stay home all day?
“Is someone here with you? Are you alone?” A wheelchair user couldn’t possibly be independent.
“Are you sure you can handle this job?” I wouldn’t have said yes if I couldn’t.
I wish I had the nerve to respond so acerbically but that wouldn’t achieve anything. Not anything positively engaging anyway. In the past, I have tended to just politely smile and let it go to avoid making the encounter uncomfortable on both sides.
But internally I want to be frustrated with them and lash out because in a sense they’re invalidating my existence as a human being.
Under their statements and inquiries lie implications questioning my competency and capability. They’re making the assumption based on my appearance alone that I couldn’t possibly live an ordinary, fulfilling life. They see my chair and nothing else. When in reality I am content in the way my life is. Sure, there have been and are still obstacles; but this is something every single person must face – some of mine just happens to be a little more visible.
However, I do understand that much of the population don’t interact with people in the disabled community in any meaningful capacity; other than seeing them from a distance or perhaps the miniscule, poor representations in media.
People are curious by nature and are of course allowed to be unaware of something they don’t understand or have never experienced. This was something that took me a long time to learn; because as a kid growing up with a disability I didn’t grasp the meaning behind the stares and remarks. Perhaps, this would’ve been something I learnt quicker if my injury had been later in life and had seen disability through the lens of an able-bodied person beforehand.
But internally I want to be frustrated with them and lash out because in a sense they’re invalidating my existence as a human being.
This realisation made me consider as someone a part of the disabled community, there is this obligation to show those who are misconceived that I am more than my disability. I am capable of doing anything I want. I am not an object of sympathy.
Ultimately, I cannot force able-bodied people to see me the way I see myself, but I can sure as hell prove in my actions and the way I present myself that I am just another person trying to make my way in the world.
