Strangers have made ableist comments about the speaker's wheelchair many times.

My wheelchair is my freedom, independence, and legs. It's essential, not a luxury.

December 12th 2023.

Strangers have made ableist comments about the speaker's wheelchair many times.
I was standing in line at a small Italian deli when I heard a sudden exclamation from the woman standing in front of me. "Oh, I need one of them!" she exclaimed, pointing directly at me. I gave her a half-smile, a mask to cover my real feelings. She was talking about my wheelchair.

It's a sadly familiar story. The ableist assumption that a £10,000 mobility aid is a commodity to be taken and used as they please. But they are not toys, nor are they meant to be appropriated. My wheelchair is my independence, my legs, and my freedom. Not a luxury.

Living in a world that doesn't always think about the needs and rights of disabled people can be challenging. But I wasn't about to let this lady appropriate my wheelchair into her own ableist narrative. I politely told her no, and then she asked if I needed help with my groceries, to which I politely declined.

When you are disabled, it is important to understand that you do not need help. Sure, it's a nice gesture to offer, but respect the individual's boundaries. Don't project your own feelings or assumptions onto the situation. That is when we get into the territory of infantilizing disabled people.

Sadly, it didn't end there. The woman then proudly declared that she was a teacher at a 'special needs' school, as if this would make her actions acceptable. But it had the opposite effect. I was left feeling angry and sad. Someone so close to disabled people is still completely oblivious to the harm their own ableism has in real life.

Yet, I didn't challenge her ignorance. I didn't want to derail the joy I was feeling from my lunch with a friend. Often, disabled people are not put on this earth to educate others. We are not responsible for excusing other people's ignorance.

My only exception to this rule is when children approach me. There is something so organic and genuine in those moments, and I don't find them intrusive. But even when I do feel the emotional capacity to challenge someone, I've often found that people aren't eager to listen.

It is so important to understand that being disabled does not equate to needing help. We can all be good people and offering assistance to anyone is a lovely gesture. But the key is to respect that individual's boundaries. That is how we can turn an awkward and discriminatory experience into a positive one.
I was waiting in a queue at a quaint Italian delicatessen when I heard a loud exclamation from the lady in front of me.
"Oh, I need one of them!" she said, pointing directly at me.
I couldn't help but roll my eyes internally and give her a half-smile, masking my true feelings. I'm used to hearing this kind of thing.
"My legs are so tired, I need one of those," she said, referring to my wheelchair.
It was a blatantly ableist statement, and I couldn't help but feel disappointed. A wheelchair isn't some object to be appropriated by the abled world, it's a tool of independence and freedom. It's not a luxury item.

Having to use a wheelchair can be difficult when you live in a world that doesn't take into account the needs of disabled people. So, no, I couldn't let her use it to take a rest. She already has access to almost everything she desires.

The conversation didn't end there. After looking at the groceries in my hand, she asked if I needed help. I politely said no, because I didn't. But she pulled a funny face, as though I had upset her by declining her offer.

It's so important to understand that being disabled doesn't equate to needing help. It's a kind gesture to offer assistance, but it's important to respect an individual's boundaries. Projecting our own assumptions onto the situation can lead to infantilising disabled people.

The woman then proceeded to tell me that she was a teacher at a special needs school, as if that would make her behaviour acceptable. It had the opposite effect. I felt sad for the kids in her care and angry because she was oblivious to the harm her ableism had caused.

Why didn't I challenge her ignorance? I didn't have the emotional capacity to take on her behaviour and I didn't want to derail the good mood I was in. Disabled people are not responsible for excusing other people's ignorance.

We have the right to set boundaries and not be expected to be on-hand to explain or educate the abled world. My only exception to this is when children approach me. There is something so genuine and organic about those moments and I don't find them intrusive.

But even when I have the emotional stamina or fire in my belly to challenge someone, people aren't always eager to listen. That's why disabled people don't always call out discrimination. We want our rights to be respected, but it's not our job to educate the world.

[This article has been trending online recently and has been generated with AI. Your feed is customized.]
[Generative AI is experimental.]

 0
 0