I was recently disembarking off a cruise in a large crowd. We were stuffed in the hallways and lobby like sardines, with barely an inch on any side of our bodies. My feet rests kept hitting the backs of people's feet and their luggage. "Sorry," I'd squeak, fully aware of how annoying that sensation was. They'd turn, a cranky, I'm-already-frustrated-and-now-will-tear-your-head-off look on their face. Then, as they saw me, their expression would change. "No," they say in a soft voice with sad eyes and a smile, "It's OK." Suddenly all their annoyance was washed away and they'd feel bad for me instead.
I am 24, slim, blonde, tall (not that it matters right this minute), and blue-eyed. If I wasn't in a wheelchair I'd run the risk of being an airhead or a slut. But for now, I am perceived as sweet, inspirational, and at the same time, someone to be pitied. Perhaps a dumb blonde also, but people don't make that mistake for very long.
Sweet, I like. I mean I'm a believer, so I try to be. But I know it is based on how I look, because people thought that when I didn't follow Jesus and was ugly on the inside. Mothers of teen boys who hung out with me or worked with me on a school project were thrilled. Maybe they thought my disability and looking the way I did, I was innately good for some reason, and would rub off on their sons. I sometimes would laugh at their naivete, but quickly figured out the joke was on me. People thinking the best of you when you don't deserve it never means they are the sad one. Now it is different.
Inspirational, well, it's hard to complain about that one. I used to, because it meant I was going through tough times, but that's not any one's fault. And I can't help but be inspired by others going through tough times and not falling apart. It's in our culture to feel that way.
Pitied--no one wants that. It is especially misplaced on me, because I think I am the happiest single person I know. Pity serves a function though. Pity causes other people to care. It makes people want to help make life manageable for us. It gave us the ADA. It gives me help from strangers when organizations aren't following the ADA. It keeps me from hearing a tirade in a sardine can of a lobby, when I have to worry about 10 extra things that day about flying home that an able-bodied person doesn't need to worry about.
People either pity us, or don't think too hard about us and what we go through on a daily basis. But really the only reason people should pity us is if they didn't think of us. Because people thought of my hardship, there are ramps and social security money and discrimination laws, etc. As a result, there is less hardship. Without these there would be justifiable pity, because my life would be pitiful. But without pity, the cutting-down-on-my-hardship laws would not exist. All social justice demands some pity to achieve the goals, I think. Where would we be in a world without pity?
See what I mean about the head trip?
The best thing for me to do is to not think about it. Be me, let nothing define me, yada yada. But I think it's good to acknowledge the stereotypes are out there. And furthermore, know they aren't all bad.
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