I’m Disabled--It Doesn’t Mean I’m Dead

It falls again. It's been a while since I've written because I'm back in school, and that comes with the Fall and along with another great American past time, that being NFL. The National Football League is one of the most talked-about things in American life. Sports, in general, play a significant role in American culture. The sports phenomena units people that frequently have very little in common. There is a spirit about competition in the sports arena that is hard to find anywhere else. However, usually, one group of individuals who are not associated with sports or at least disability in sports doesn't come to mind simultaneously in most people's minds. The disabled are not that different from anyone else, though, when it comes to their love of sports.
       Anyone who knows me will tell you that I am an avid New York Giants fan, and I often yell at the T.V. when they screw up (which happens to be a lot this season). I am also a die-hard New York Yankees fan, and I love hockey in general and college basketball. I am often asked, "How can you be that into sports if you can't play them?" And yes, I can't play them, but I can still feel the drive and adrenaline from a game. It's hard to explain. Disabled people don't only sit and watch. We also compete just as hard, if not harder, than regular athletes. There are misconceptions when it comes to disability and sports. Through an interview I recently conducted, I hope to dispel some of these misconceptions.

       As I have said in previous blogs, I go to a University in North Western Pennsylvania. The University prides itself on being an "inclusive" campus for people with disabilities. As a part of that effort, they have a wheelchair basketball team. I was recently fortunate enough to be able to interview a senior on that team. Kate Chaser was kind enough to discuss basketball sports for people with disabilities and disability awareness in general. Before I get into the interview, here's a little bit of Kate's bio. Kate is a senior Public Relations major with plans of going to Grad school. She has not yet been accepted, but she is still hopeful. She is also a part of the University's sizeable student-athlete population. She plays point guard on the wheelchair basketball team.

       To give an unfamiliar reader a little insight into wheelchair basketball, I asked Kate to explain it a little. She explained that she first started playing when her mom was suggested for Kate to play at a function for the Philadelphia chapter of the spina bifida association. Spina Bifida is a disability that has made Kate a person with paraplegia. It caused her to be born with a hole in her spinal cord. As far as basketball, Kate started playing around the age of 10. This opened many doors for her. As Kate put it, "It gave me many opportunities that I would not have had if it wasn't for sports." She went on to further explain that not every state has a wheelchair basketball program. Thus, the competitive pool is small, but although the pool is small, the sport's competitive nature is anything but small. These athletes are some of the most intense athletes you will ever meet. The only way that the game differs from regular basketball is in a little technical fashion. Athletes are allowed to dribble the ball once and then push their wheels twice before dribbling again. Apart from that, the physicality of the game is the same as its "able-bodied" counterpart. 
       Now that you understand a bit about wheelchair basketball, I can get further into an exciting point that Kate made. "Even though we are athletes, we don't get the same respect as other athletes," said the senior. When I asked her what she meant by that, she displayed tremendous insight. She pointed out that people with disabilities have often been relegated to in a power chair needing full assistance or not disabled. Many times people don't see the varying degrees of disability. They lump disability altogether. This goes back to the societal habit of seeing the disability before they see the person. To make this point clearer, it is like comparing the Special Olympics to the athletic contests that Chasar and her teammates engage in every season. Both involve disabilities, but they are remarkably different. 
       Why is it that when it comes to disability that the disabled are seen as quiet, timid, or sideline sitters most of the time? People often think that just because people have a physical obstacle that they must overcome, they do not have a competitive spirit. Kate has a concrete example of the idea that this is an outdated thought. She gets up nearly seven days a week at 7 a.m. and practices for three hours, then takes on a full college schedule (much like any other athlete would do). Aside from that, she also has to deal with obstacles in her everyday life that not every person has to deal with. As she notes, her obstacles are less severe than others, but it still has presented challenges in her life. 
       "Sports have allowed me to develop "normally," and I don't know what I would do without sports." You might ask what she means by this statement. Usually, people with disabilities sit on the sidelines and don't engage the outside world. Even though I have a disability myself, I haven't figured out why this disturbingly more common than you think phenomena. Being involved in sports or other "normal" social activities allows people (disabled or not) to develop a sense of community and commodity necessary for human existence—the story of Kate and others like her highlight an interesting point. 
       No matter our obstacles, whether physical or mental, we all have a spirit that is dying to be expressed in one form or another. Some use writing, music, violence, and video games, while others use sports. Disabled people and the disabled community are no different. What is different is our society's perception of us expressing our spirit normally. We are often seen as "inspirations" or "amazing" when we engage in everyday activities that no one expects us to get into. This blog is not designed to get rid of all the "you are amazing" comments but shows that people like Kate Chasar and I are not unique. Disabled people, in general, have passion, and we are just like the rest of society. Sports are only one way that we express our love for life. That being said, there is one other point worth mentioning. 
       At the University, which I currently attend, disability is supposedly one of their calling cards. One of their badges of honor. Not to downplay a great University for the few things they do well, but as a person who has attended the University for several years now, I feel like I have the right to say if you are going to champion the disabled population as one of your cornerstone attractions, and push disabled athletics (as far as wheelchair basketball is concerned) you might want to give them equal time as other programs. I am not an athlete as I am down to a power chair, but I know this is not just a sentiment, which I hold. Others have said that the wheelchair basketball program (of which Ms. Chasar is a part of) is treated as a second-class athletic program. Their games are never promoted on equal footing with other events; they have often pushed aside other schools and organizations to use our facilities. Yet, one wonders why disabled sports, in particular at this University, are not well known. As Ms. Chasar's interview and the above indicate, people with disabilities have a spirit that loves competition, loves self-expression, and loves adrenaline despite our obstacles. Now it is time for society to appreciate who we are and what we can do.

Along with not treating us as abnormal or "amazing" when we express the same emotions that everyone else does and enjoy the same things daily. This is my motto, but hopefully, it will be a motto associated with all people with disabilities. Despite our obstacles, fear nothing and regret less. 

 

 

But They Said it Was “Accessible"

So yesterday was officially 3 months that the blog has been up. The Facebook page has only been up a few days but at the end of yesterday, we had 887 page views on the actual blog and 54 likes on the Facebook page reaching an outstanding 607 people. It is amazing what 3 months of my writing have produced. I have had help from so many people. Emily Ekstrand, Kelsey Waltz, and Haley Larson. I’ve also had help from a great T.V. show called My Gimpy Life. It is this show and certain life events that inspired me to start writing again. Here’s to more success for the Voiceless Minority as we move forward! However, with all that success and cause for celebration, there are still many issues that need to be addressed.

       As I have written before, the Americans With Disabilities Act was signed into law in the summer of 1990. I will not rehash it again what exactly the act covered (if you would like information on that either visit “ada.gov” or my previous blogs). I simply mention the act here because its 23^rd birthday is coming up on the 26^th of July. When I recently asked the question on our Facebook page about whether anyone had future ideas for blogs this response came up…

       Joe Peet commented on July 6^th and he recommended a blog on “real-time access.” Now for those of you who are new to the disability advocacy fight and I do call it a fight. Real-Time Access is an interesting concept. The idea provides us (the disability community) access to things on paper. What it does not do is clearly defined how that access should be presented. Instead, the language is left broad and ambiguous. In short, the language leaves the decision up to human intuition or interpretation. This is all well and good but I think the idea forgot one very important point to consider. The developers of buildings and producers of products, for the most part, aren’t disabled because we are rarely given opportunities to pursue everyday jobs. That being said, what the majority the able-bodied people consider accessible, oftentimes is not. I don’t mean to offend a majority of readers but I’m just being honest. I will give several examples to demonstrate my point. Some of these examples are my own and some come from others.

       As I have said numerous times, I go to a school in the North Western part of Pennsylvania and that school has its flaws like every other school, but it tries to build itself as one of the most handicapped friendly schools, not only in the area but also in the country. Nothing against that school as they are the institution that will grant me my Master’s Degree in December if all goes well. However, I need to suggest a few things. As far as being accessible, most of the campus is, but crucial portions need to be fixed i.e. the giant cracks in the sidewalks that some power chairs and I’m sure manual chairs have trouble navigating over or around. How is it possible the school can spend money on new dorms but not fix their existing sidewalks to make them easy for a large portion of your population? Also, another issue that is prevalent on campus but is also a cross-venue the issue is the placement of the automatic door and elevator buttons.

I have a tremendous fear of elevators. Yes, I said it. Even though I use them any time I want to go anywhere above the first floor. I absolutely hate them. I don’t know why but I think claustrophobia is genetic or something—no, not really, but thanks, mom! Anyway, one of my biggest pet peeves is not having uniformed elevator buttons either in height or type. I am very short when sitting in my power chair. If I were to stand up straight, which rarely happens, the doctors say I would be 5’10. However, that doesn’t help me when I’m sitting down. There are two buildings in particular that I have in mind when I talk about the elevator button placement and height. One building s a good example and one building absolutely sucks.

       The first building has an elevator button cutout where the button protrudes from the wall and is one of the more conventional buttons you see in medical facilities and hospitals. It, in this case, is white and it is raised off the cutout a little bit. I have very limited hand mobility but even I can press this button by myself. If that wasn’t awesome enough, when I get into the elevator I can even select what floor I want to go to by myself. Sadly, this awesome elevator design is very rare on campus and in real life. At least in places that you need to go on a regular basis and not just when you’re sick.

       The other a building that I mentioned before has a button and it is placed in an area, which only the tallest disabled people can reach. Granted, like I said, I have very limited movement in my hands but there are very few people that I know who can use this button by themselves. There are those in manual wheelchairs who have more mobility than I do who are capable but even some of them struggle. The button is set into the wall and does not protrude from the cutout. I have seen this type of design in many places—movies theaters, Dave & Busters, local malls, and etc. I have a question for developers. Why in the world are these buttons in use still? Maybe I’m being too narrow-minded but, does everyone in the world think that disabled people always travel around with an aide who can push the button for them? The sad fact in my experience is that most people do believe that. As I have said as recently as the “Hey, down here!” blog we desire our independence too. If elevator buttons aren’t where we can use them they are useless.

       Another issue that I’ve seen which is a cross-venue issue is the placement of automatic door buttons. For those who are unaware (and I only mention this because the blog reaches international audiences now and some of you might not have an automatic door) but automatic doors can open with the push of a button which makes it easier for people who are slower or with wheelchairs to enter. There are several types of automatic door buttons but what I don’t understand again is why is there not a uniform type of automatic door button? Maybe it is, with the simple fact that, nobody consulted disabled people when they were designing them. However, I think we should start a focus group and ask disabled people how long on average does it take someone in a manual chair vs. someone in a power chair how long it takes to get through a door. Take the happy median and then set the button time for that! Also in that focus group maybe we could ask disabled people what types of buttons are easier for them to operate? I prefer the round, grey, metallic ones that are offset from their cutout. I hate the ones at my campus library (which some of my able-bodied friends have trouble pressing). Finally, before I move on to a new topic let me express one major complaint. What is it with the placement of automatic door buttons?! I am not kidding. I have seen buttons placed behind where the door opens at i.e. my campus library. Or below an average wheelchair height. Not to offend short people, but we are not ALL so short that you have to put the button by our knees. Enough with that rant. Let me get to an even more disconcerting issue.

       I’m a pretty an active individual with a disability. I like to go out and visit theaters or movies. Or even sporting events. A lot of the able-bodied people that will read this might not understand what I’m about to write about but someone, please explain why all the handicapped seating is in B, F, E! On the one hand, I can understand that the developers might do it to prevent people from standing up in front of us, and for that I appreciate it. A word to developers though, you’ve avoided me being blocked by some really tall glad or really robust person, but now instead of seeing the hockey game that I sometimes pay 50-100 a ticket for I only see little ants. In the case of the movies, you guys are getting better. You put us in the middle of the stadium seating, but you often don’t have enough seats around us for friends and companions. And god helps us if there are two people in a wheelchair in our party. Someone’s feet are getting crushed! I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been run over by another person’s wheelchair just because they are trying to back into the movie seat. Now I know you have a limited budget and limited space, but could you at least give us another inch to an inch and a half? So we don’t have to ask the poor lady who just sat down to get up just so we can situate ourselves? Thank you!

       A final issue I wish to bring to the table is that of the organization of the malls and stores. I do not intend to offend anyone in retail but I just have one simple question. Isn’t your job to attract the most customers’ possible so that you can sell us merchandise? Excluding those stores who discriminate based on weight or body type (coughcoughAbercromeandFitchcoughcough). If this is the case, I think you are missing out on a large population! No pun intended. When I say “missing out” I really mean making it difficult for a large population to enjoy an American past time known as “buying shit.”

       I am not a girly guy but I do like to go to the store and browse. One of my favorite stores to go into is Spencer’s. This is not a kid-friendly store but like many other stores, it is not wheelchair friendly either. I get that you have to have enough space for merchandise, but honestly…? Why is it that merchandise displays have to cover every inch of the store? I am not able-bodied but I’ve even seen able-bodied people that do not know each other have to get super intimate each other just to get by in that store. In fact, because of where I sit sometimes I am cursed with running into certain body parts of people that I really do not want to. Spencer’s is not the only store that fails to give any customer walking space. Another store that is one of my favorites has to be Bass Pro Shop. Forgive, me. That’s the redneck coming out. While Bass Pro Shop has a large center aisle for foot traffic, it like a majority of stores, also places the clothing racks way too close together! Every time I go in there my parents or person I’m with end up having to do the one thing I hate to have people do. They have to help me drive through the clothing racks so that we don’t end up buying the whole store. Part of them probably does this because I’m not the best driver, but I guarantee part of them does it because a 26-inch wheelchair base cannot fit within a half inch space without killing something.

       All that being said, I bring up these issues because they would not only benefit the disabled community if they were addressed but they would benefit the able-bodied community as well. I am going to be very blunt for a second and remind you that this is only my view on things, but it is my belief that some people rarely want to go places with people with disabilities because they don’t want to have to deal with inconveniences such as helping their friend. While I disagree with most of this premise, I do agree that wherever inconveniences arise due to the disability can be altered or should be. Wouldn’t giving able-bodied people more walking room (or in the case of movie theaters) wouldn’t more room lead to more satisfied consumers? Just a thought.

       In closing, I turn my focus back to the disability community. We are an active community given the opportunity. We are tired of sitting in the back of the room and we deserve to be on the front line like everyone else.