High school, for the most part, has been a pleasant surprise for me. Acceptance is no longer as hard to find as it was in middle school. I still have difficulty making friends, but that’s not just because having cerebral palsy can complicate things. I am awkward around other people my age and don’t share a lot of interests with girls in my grade (social media, makeup, clothes, etc.).
Anyway, kids have been much nicer. Adults, however…. Well, I’m almost always taken aback when I have a negative encounter with an adult. Generally, adults are more polite and are accustomed to seeing things that are unusual. Also, most adults have a filter and know not to say everything on their mind.
I am often running late. I have eight classes in total, four classes per day. On this particular day, my first class was PE. I was tired from walking laps around the track (my pride gets in the way and I don’t stop walking, even when I probably should) and had gotten a late start getting to the locker room to put my uniform back on. As a result, there was only about a minute until my next class.
A teacher was sitting in a chair in the hallway as I pulled my roller bag down the hall. It was one of those days when I was wondering why my legs couldn’t go just a little bit faster. (I have very high expectations of myself that aren’t always realistic.) As I passed the teacher sitting in the hallway, I gave him a polite smile.
He stared at me and said, “Better hurry; you’re gonna be late.”
“Yes, sir,” I replied and kept walking. I didn’t change my pace—not out of disrespect, but because I know my limits. I was walking as fast as I could.
“Movin’ kinda slow,” he said under his breath as I passed. I bet he didn’t think I heard him.
I flinched but kept walking.
I understand that it must be hard to be in a wheelchair. I have to think that people in wheelchairs don’t get these kinds of comments—at least, I hope they don’t. The problem is that my cerebral palsy is not very noticeable. I’m sure that he didn’t think anything of his comment. If my CP had been noticeable, then the teacher probably would not have said anything.
I found his saying that I was “movin’ kinda slow” offensive. I was trying. If my trying wasn’t enough for him, then it wasn’t my fault.
At my school, most kids hang out in the hallway and chitchat until there’s only about thirty seconds left until the bell rings. Needless to say, that’s not the way I do things. I am scrambling to get to class until the very last second, and even then I’m still sometimes late.
It would have been nice if the teacher could have given me the benefit of the doubt. I know not everyone—especially not teachers—can do that, because students often take advantage. But I’m not that type of person.
I have a disability that’s too easy to hide, and I shouldn’t be penalized for it. I try and I try and I try, and it’s not enough. I care about school. I hate being late to class because I hate drawing negative attention to myself. I’m not like everyone else. I can’t always increase my pace or run in the halls.
I do need a little bit of grace. Sometimes, I need people to keep their opinions to themselves.
I need people to understand that there are people with physical challenges.
No matter what, there are people who try.
I’m one of those people. I’m harder on myself than anyone else.
And I may be running late, and I may be in a rush, but I still hear a ticking clock in my head. I still hear people’s words.