Yesterday, T was smushed on a bus during rush hour, and a man in a wheelchair wanted to get on. The bus driver started yelling at the standing passengers to move out of the way, but there was no place to go.
It shouldn’t make any difference if you’re in a wheelchair or not… if there’s no room there’s no room. Yelling at the people already on the bus is just as bad as passing up someone in a wheelchair when there is plenty of room for them to get aboard.
The way I use the Internet has evolved.
Back when it was a novelty and AOL was king, I just checked my e-mail and occasionally spoke up in a chat room or two. My surfing was aimless and chatting with strangers was a let down because I felt like I had nothing to show for hours worth of screen time.
Then, the Internet became more functional for me. I started using it to buy stuff… groceries, Christmas presents… and everything was delivered right to my door. Talk about the ultimate accessibility tool! Forget figuring out how to carry shopping bags while pushing my wheelchair, or negotiating tiny dressing rooms. Instead, I browsed for things I needed from home.
After that, I started using the Web to explore. I found it to be a great resource for up-to-date information. I also discovered that places that are not so wheelchair friendly in real life are barrier-free online. I visited Shakespeare’s house and medieval castles in England. Using on-site kiosks, I toured the inaccessible aspects of these attractions virtually. As a result, the Internet became a place for me -- a “space” to navigate and mine.
Now, I also think of it as a place where I can build. I still use the Internet to get things done and to explore, but it’s become something more. It connects me to others, gives me a publishing platform to express myself, and helps me to grow my social network in new, exciting ways. The Web has a social pay-off.
How do you use the Internet?
I’ve been neglecting this blog horribly. That’s partly because there’s not much to say about Chicago in the winter. (It’s been way too cold with crazy amounts of snow, which means that I’ve taken far too many cabs to get around. And that’s about it.) But it’s mostly because writing about the disability-related issues I face is too narrow a focus. I feel strange about bringing my disability to the forefront in each entry. It’s just a small part of my life, and I rarely focus on it unless I have to.
So I’ve decided to refocus my blogging to talk more generally about social interactions, online and in person. Looking back at my previous posts, I think the social aspects I discuss are the most interesting. Of course I’ll still address accessibility and such as things strike me. Just expect a wider lens and more variety on Wheels With a View. You’ll be hearing from me!
I transferred into a cab as my friend, S, started to breakdown my wheelchair.
It was cold and snowing.
“I think my friend could use a hand with the chair,” I said to the driver who had remained in his seat. “Will you please help her put it in the trunk?”
“Nope,” he said. “That’s what she’s here for.”
“Really? I thought she was here because we just went to the movies, and she enjoys my company.”
He glared at me in the rearview.
“How nice for you.”
I didn’t tip him.
I’ve got wanderlust and would love to see a bit more of the world. But if I go to Spain, Italy, or Greece (to name a few tempting possibilities), I’d much prefer to eat where the locals eat, stay where they stay, etc. That’s a huge challenge because touristy areas are much more likely to be wheelchair accessible, and older cities are bound to be less accessible no matter what.
So I need ideas! Does anyone know of locally based resources for world travelers with disabilities? I’m not sure if such things exist, but picture this: A travel Web site for people with disabilities by people with disabilities that offers helpful hits on how to navigate every major city in the world in a wheelchair. I think it makes sense to focus on cities because--let’s face it--no one in their right mind is going to want to push a wheelchair through the Alps.
Sometimes there are a few references to accessibility in regular travel guides, but I rarely find the answers I need. Is there something better out there? If not, let’s start something.
It’s official. I’m a delinquent. After eating out, I sit my purse on my lap to wheel out the door. And more times than I care to admit, I forget all about my dinner napkin. I find it later, still on my lap, tucked under my purse. I’m usually halfway home before I notice, or I’m too mortified to go return the contraband, so I now have quite a collection of mismatched napkins. What to do?
If my friends want to do something that is inaccessible, should they invite me to go too, or is it better if they don’t mention it at all? Should they feel like they have to include me in everything? Is it right for me to expect them to? I was recently reminded how tricky these situations can be and started thinking about how to handle them. Here are some good rules of thumb:
Think Ahead. If you’re inviting a whole group of people to do an activity that is inaccessible and you want to invite someone with a disability, go ahead. But before you do, it is important to think through ways in which the person might be included. If you’re going ice skating for example, see if there is a place for the person to sit, watch the action, and sip hot chocolate. That way, they are included without really having to participate. And be upfront about what’s possible. That way the person is not surprised and can make a good choice about whether or not to attend. Nine times out of ten, it is better to be asked and have to say no than not to be asked at all.
Be Flexible. If you are going to invite a person with a disability, be prepared to modify the plans a bit to accommodate for them. You shouldn’t have to change everything, but understand that some accommodation needs to be made, even if it’s just making sure there is a place to sit. If you’re not willing to be flexible, or to plan ahead, this is when you shouldn’t invite the person in the first place.
Be Honest. Sometimes you won’t want to exchange ringside seats for accessible ones that are a mile away. Who would? If this is the case, be honest. Don’t make your friend with a disability guess what you’re thinking. It’s rude and a little mean to be secretive or not to speak up. You don’t have to include everyone all of the time. So don’t offer half-assed invitations.
Be Realistic. As a person with a disability, it is wrong to think that inclusion means everyone gets to do everything all of the time. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately), we don’t live in that world. Do everything you can to be proactive, to challenge yourself, to participate, but know that you’ll still have to sit a few out. And it’s up to you to deal with that, and let people know that it’s okay by you.
Do you have any thoughts on this? I’d like to hear what you think.
I haven't really been blogging lately, but that doesn't mean Tammy and I haven't been eating out. Check out our latest review of Cyrano's, a cozy little bistrot that I find surprisingly wheelchair friendly. And I have many entries in the works, so stay tuned for updates. Hope you're having a happy 2008!
In this podcast, Tammy and I talk about Thalia Spice. The staff there was very accommodating of my wheelchair… a little too accommodating in fact. Our waitress showed me where the restroom was, held the restroom door for me, then proceeded to hold open the stall door for me too! So weird. Listen in to hear more about our “special night out.”
The other night, I saw a woman in a wheelchair and her boyfriend/husband strolling down Michigan Avenue hand-in-hand. They were perfectly in sync. He held her right hand, comfortably tugging her along. And she kept her left at the wheel to steer. I smiled, impressed by their practiced technique, and they nodded back in acknowledgement.
The brief exchange reminded me of a conversation I had ages ago with a friend about unwritten “rules of the road.” She drives a Jeep, and every time she sees another one, she and the other driver exchange friendly waves as they size up each other’s vehicles. She explained to me that this behavior is so common among Jeep owners that it might as well be printed in the car’s instruction manual.
Since having that conversation, I’ve made a concerted effort to smile and nod at every person in a wheelchair I pass, and I’ve given a lot of thought to the wheelchair rules of the road. These are the most amusing tips for walkies I’ve found on the net, and Wikipedia's guide to disability etiquette is extremely useful too (Thanks Karen!).
