What I Would Like My High School To Know About Being In A Wheelchair

 To my high school:

I haven’t been in a wheelchair very long. I need it because I had a major surgery called a femoral derotational osteotomy. (Yes, I am the girl who probably left scuff marks in the classroom doorways and probably ran over your legs or feet once or twice. Sorry.) A wheelchair is useful for my safety, but I would not choose to use one otherwise. It might look easy to not walk around school and sit in a wheelchair instead, but it’s not easy. I am in pain every day, even when I do sit in the wheelchair. I am much shorter sitting in it and I feel like less of a person. That being said, there are a few things that would help me greatly. Here are a few do’s and don’t’s for interacting with me (and other people) in a wheelchair.

DON’T’S:

• Please do not stand directly in front of me (for example, at an assembly). In the wheelchair, I am much shorter than I am while standing. I can’t see if someone stands directly in front of me. It makes me feel like I don’t matter.
• Do not shut the door on me when you see me coming. Honestly, I feel like it should be common courtesy to hold the door if you see anyone approaching the door, but I can’t reach the door to hold it for myself in the wheelchair. Many people have shut the door on me, and I have just had to wait for someone else to come along, which is really embarrassing. It only takes a few seconds to hold the door for someone, and I promise that those extra seconds make a big difference to me. 
• Don’t cut right in front of me when I’m trying to go somewhere. I understand that I move slowly, but no matter if I do or not, it’s still really rude to cut in front of me. I will move to the side of the hallway if I see that you’re in a hurry; I do feel bad for holding people up. But if you cut in front of me, you run the risk of getting run over. I don’t mean to, but it’s harder to stop the wheelchair while it’s rolling than you’d think. (See my note about getting run over by the wheelchair below.)
• Please do not block the doorway or hallway. I get it. I love talking to my friends between classes when I can, too. But I don’t have the luxury of time. Whether I’m walking behind the wheelchair and pushing it or propelling it with my arms, it takes a long time for me to get to class. It takes even longer when I have to wait for people to notice me and move out of the way. Please be mindful if you are blocking the doorway or hallway. We all have places we need to be. If you have the time to just stand there talking to your friends, I can’t accommodate you. I don’t want to be rude by yelling “excuse me” if you don’t hear me the first time or trying to roll past you, but I’d really rather not be late to class because other people are in the way.
• Don’t make a big deal if you trip on the wheelchair or if I accidentally run over you. I promise, I do not mean to run over people. But when people move directly in my way or cut in front of me, sometimes it happens. I’m always looking where I’m going, and I need the same consideration in return. If you do trip over my wheelchair, I know it hurts. But please don’t give me a dirty look because it’s not my fault you tripped. My wheelchair is not there to inconvenience anyone; however, sometimes it does. I have to get by in a world that is sometimes not equipped for me, and if you trip over my wheelchair because you’re not paying attention to where you’re going, there’s really nothing I can do about it.
• Please, please DO NOT push me without asking. I can propel myself, and it is really degrading when people come up behind me and start pushing. Just because I’m in a wheelchair does not mean that I can’t make my own decisions or do things for myself. When people push me without asking, it takes away the ability I do have. I can still do things on my own even though I’m in a wheelchair. If you push me without asking, I’m sure people usually mean well, but it means I don’t have a choice. I don’t have any control over the situation if people push me without asking, and I already don’t have enough control.

DO’S:

• If you see me struggling (or if you think I’m having trouble), please do offer to help. There have been several times that I have struggled to open a door and people have stood behind me and just watched. There is a big difference between offering to help and swooping in and doing something for me. I would really appreciate an offer to help if I do look like I need it.
• Please do watch where you’re going. It can pose a danger to us both if you don’t. I know it hurts when you collide with the wheelchair, and it also hurts me. When people ram into my wheelchair, it jolts my legs (including the one I just had surgery on, which really hurts). I will watch where I am going; all I ask is that you please watch where you’re going, too.

I know that I am not entitled to these things above, but it would be very helpful and make my day more tolerable. It is really hard for me to accept being in a wheelchair because I need a lot more help. Many people are very inconsiderate when they interact with me, but the only thing about me that has changed since last year is my mobility. I would so appreciate a little more consideration. The world isn’t always built for people who have differences, which is frustrating, but the way I see it, we can all learn from each other. We just have to have empathy. The fact is, both people with and without disabilities exist in this world, and it is my goal to make the world safe for both. 

Forgiveness & Living As God Says

 “Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them.19Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave room for the wrath of God;* for it is written, ‘Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.’ 20No, ‘if your enemies are hungry, feed them; if they are thirsty, give them something to drink; for by doing this you will heap burning coals on their heads.’” —Romans, 12:14-20

What is forgiveness, truly? I have been told that forgiveness is solely for us, not for the people who have wronged us. I have written about forgiveness before, but it has felt slightly hypocritical to do so because I still feel anger about some of the things that have happened to me. 

I have heard the quote, “Hate the sin, not the sinner,” and that quote resonates with me very well. It is not always healthy to hold onto anger, but it is okay to be angry. Anger is a productive emotion, for good or for bad. However, it is my aim to live like Christ would want. Anger and hatred do not only hurt those who have hurt us, but they hurt ourselves. Anger and hatred—bitterness—can change a person. If you are bitter, it is harder to love others.

I have been tempted to retaliate many times in my life, but have talked myself out of it by reasoning that refraining will make me a better person. It’s the same principle that causes parents everywhere to say: “Be the bigger person.” In the Bible, God says, “Vengance is mine; I will repay.” God has control, and He chose to give humanity the gift of free will. As humans, it is not our job to judge others; our job is to love. The rest will come; we just have to have faith.

To live like Christ, we must to be kind to all, even the people who have hurt us. If you help your enemy, you are being noble and truly “the bigger person”. The humility that one displays when being kind to someone who has hurt them is “the coal burning on his head”. Humility is an attribute that everyone must respect. 

The biggest lesson about forgiveness I have encountered comes from Jesus’ crucifixion. It was humans that accused Jesus of being a fraud, humans that betrayed Him, and humans who nailed Him to the cross. And yet, in return, Jesus gave humanity the ultimate gift: eternal peace and a place in God’s kingdom. After all that Jesus endured, He did so much for humanity—put his “enemies” above Himself.

We are merely humans. We’re not perfect. But if we can forgive, that’s a step closer to God. Forgiveness is one of the hardest things to do. It is as much for our enemies as it is for us. 

Objectification of People With Disabilities Is Not Okay

 Whoever is trying to pull you down is already below you. —Ziad Abdelnour

Recently, I have been using a wheelchair to get around school after my femoral osteotomy surgery. It’s been hard in a very different way than when I was walking. I have lost a lot of independence. Though I can propel myself using the wheels, it’s not the same.

I have felt insecure lately, mostly because of being in a wheelchair. There have been times where I stood up and I heard whispers behind me because of the scars on my legs—but using the wheelchair has made me feel inadequate. 

For one thing, I am much shorter than everyone else sitting in my wheelchair. People have to look down to talk to me, which makes me feel less-than. Many people don’t see me coming. But sometimes being invisible to other people isn’t the worst thing.

This week I got a comment I never expected. I was wheeling in the crowded hallway when I heard a boy behind me. “I want to push that wheelchair girl,” he said to his friend. His tone implied he meant something much less innocent than the words that came out of his mouth. I turned around just in time to see the look on his face—and I wish I hadn’t. The look was disgusting. 

He wasn’t seeing me at all—he was seeing someone shorter than him, someone who couldn’t do something that he could. And so he chose to objectify the wheelchair—objectify me.

I am not my wheelchair. I am not “the wheelchair girl”. And I certainly don’t need the implications of a boy I don’t even know. That is such a limited mindset, to just see a girl in a wheelchair.

I know that comments like that happen every day. And it shouldn’t be allowed to happen. My first thought after the boy said that was to turn around and roll right over his feet. All-consuming anger filled me, and I felt the urge to do something. I felt so low, just letting him say that to me without doing anything. I felt like I was powerless, just a girl in a wheelchair, which was what he wanted me to think. But I didn’t roll over him. I kept rolling down the hall. He wasn’t worth it. I was better than that.

I am no better or worse of a person than anyone else because I have CP. People shouldn’t consider me less of a person because of my disability. If they do, well….. There’s no way to change people. Other people are not in my control. Lately, especially, there is a lot I don’t have control over, like my wheelchair, but I will always be in control of my actions. 

Objectification of anyone is never okay, but people with disabilities especially have enough to deal with. If humanity is dark enough to objectify disabilities, then I honestly don’t know what to say. I am very frustrated by this encounter. 

No one is above me just because he or she can walk better than I can. That’s not how it works. A person should be defined by the content of their character. Everyone should get the chance to show that they are more than their circumstances. We all deserve that chance. 

I—and all people with disabilities—deserve to be able to take up space without being objectified for it.