I had intended for this article to end up in the Fanshawe College newspaper… But somehow it never ended up there. I recall being too busy to submit it… What a pity!
The Way Things Roll
As a first-year student at Fanshawe College, I am amazed by the wonderful people and services found here. However, being a student who faces a life-long confrontation with cerebral palsy, I notice things the average student may not.
I love to meet new people. I find, upon introducing myself, they tend to assume I am unintelligent. I know people fear what they do not understand; however, it is always more prudent to know someone before drawing such conclusions. Do not be afraid when you come across someone with a disability. We may do things different, appear different, and act different; but, never forget that age old saying, “don't judge a book by its cover.” Categories are simply limiting; life is rarely categorically simple.
The truth is, even people with the most severe disabilities are able to communicate their intelligence and express their opinions. A little patience is all that is necessary to swim those depths with these people. You cannot deny it is nice when someone takes time out of their day to listen to what you have to say. These people are no different. Some people use communication boards, others use sign language. Disability or not, communication is always possible. If, for any reason, you still doubt our intelligence, look around, there are many of us here at Fanshawe. If we lacked intelligence, we would not be here.
Among the things I have noticed is the difficulty in getting from here to there around the campus. There are several aspects I have noticed which contribute to this problem.
The hallways of Fanshawe hallways are filled to the brim at the time I need them to be clear. It is no secret the hallways are so busy that extra minutes must be factored into the trek between classes. Typically, I add extra minutes on top of what you would add; but, there are still a few things that tend to slow me down.
Groups of friends gather in the hallway while awaiting class. They are engrossed in their conversation and they fail to notice the spot which they have occupied is actually a thoroughfare. So you must be thinking; well, why don't you just say excuse me? That is the first thing out of my mouth; but, when I politely use the phrase, and then receive a look which suggests why the hell should I move for this alien, I wonder why am I being polite.
I realize I must look like a short little alien attached to 300 pounds of metal. The truth is, I am a person too. I will always be as polite as I can, even if the favour is not returned. Now I ask you, after someone politely asks to pass, does moving out of the way have to include flashing a dirty and non-comprehensive look?
Upon receiving this look I am inclined to barrel through. Those of you who think this is rude are in no position to judge, nor should you, lest ye be judged. For future reference, the next time you are standing in the hallway, try to leave a clear path for others. We are not as limber as you presume we should be. So… Get the hell out of the road – OR get run over!
The next challenge of the day is the elevator. I often find myself evaluating which ones would take the least time to use. For example; I have figured out that the M elevator is much slower than the one in H. If I want to make it to a class in B on time, I do not waste my time looking for the meticulously camouflaged elevator situated at the opposing end to the entry of B building; I head straight to the one in T building.
Although I have this down to a science, there is no guarantee it will save me any time. Some days when approaching an elevator, I find myself encircled by able-bodied people.
I suppose to able-bodied people there is a disconnect, an ignorance or denial. I understand the convenience of taking the elevator. I have no other option, I have to take the elevator. When the elevator is full of people who are capable of using the stairs, and there is no room for a wheelchair, I am being denied the services which Fanshawe has put in place, as well as being late for a class.
Such incidents have happened on several occasions. It is not funny to see a wheelchair stuck half-in, half-out of an elevator; some students think this is hilarious. While it is a common past-time to giggle and titter at situations which we think we will never have to encounter, I remind you of a term we `challenged` persons have for you, TABs!
Loosely translated, TAB means Temporarily Able-Bodied persons. Your abilities are temporary: some more temporary than others. Think about it, we all end up disabled somewhere along the road of life. Car accidents, sports injuries, diseases and aging are but a few of the ways in which the playing field becomes level, for everybody. The world has a way of reminding us we are all vulnerable.
To be honest, I would much rather spend my time climbing stairs. I, myself, would die for that chance. So the next time you feel like taking the elevator, be my guest, but make sure you are not denying the space to anyone who truly needs it.
Finally, I arrive in class and park myself out of the way. As soon as I park, I turn into a magnet. Students and teachers seem to gravitate towards my chair, as if the whole universe spins around the centre of my chair. During lectures, teachers tend to move around the room, gradually reaching the spot in which I have parked. They use my chair as something to lean on, or just to hold on to. Students act similarly, touching my chair every time they walk past, or placing their feet on my foot rest if I sit close enough to them.
In high school, I helped in a disabled classroom and they taught me something called "wheelchair etiquette". In short, it is not polite to lean on a person's wheelchair, or even touch it without any given consent. The chair is my personal space. WARNING, I may bite; remember, you are scared of me.
I dislike that I am attached to a 300 pound piece of metal; but the fact is, it is a part of me. Touching someone's wheelchair without permission, is the equivalent of stepping inside an individual’s "personal bubble". After my personal bubble had been broken several times at Fanshawe, I began to ask myself why. Why are people so fascinated with the feeling of 300 pounds of scrap metal?
I would like people to know that I much prefer a smile when acknowledging I am in a room. It is not bad to have your presence acknowledged, but there are better ways to do so than awkward physical contact.
I would like to thank the people who help me, in big and little ways: The students who kindly open the door for me, or opt to take the stairs when they see I need the elevator: My teachers who encouraged me to write this article: My fellow wheel-bound aliens. Most especially, I need to thank the two ladies who helped me out of a snow-bank last week. I realize my college life, without the help of people who notice the small things, would be a lot more difficult.
Finally, I'd like to thank you, the reader for taking the time to read this article. I hope it sheds a little light on the shadows which you pass in the hallway every day. We all have struggles in front of us, that`s the way we learn. I will continually be confronted with struggles as I go along, but that's just the way things roll.
Karli
