One Less

 

Whenever I go out in public, I inevitably get stared at. Mostly by adults... kids tend to ask the adult with them what's wrong with me or why I use whatever mobility aid I have for the day. I haven't been going out much in the last year due to my high risk status, so mostly just staring as I head into the chosen medical office of the day (the few people I see at rowing are used to me 😉). The other day, I realized I've been dreading the moment a kid asked their parent about me.

I realized it as a little girl behind me in line at the post office asked about me. Usually, parents hush their kids' questions fearing I'll be offended by a child's curiosity, their desire to understand the world around them. I'm something they've probably never seen and quieting the question makes me (and others who are disabled) something to fear, someone to stay away from. While I hope the parent explains later, I like to catch the kid's eye and smile at them; it's not much, but I hope the simple gesture shows them there's nothing to fear. And luckily, when I'm using my wheelchair, I'm more at their level than their parent's. Sadly, I can't do that with my mask on.

Anyway, on this particular day, I was using my cane and leg brace. The little girl asked her mom "what happened to her? Does she need help, can I help her?" (I was already at the counter, I think she saw me almost drop my cane) While my heart burst at how adorable that was, her mom answered her quietly, "it's nice of you to care, but it's not our place to know what happened to her. And I'm sure she'll ask if she needs help, just like you like to try things on your own before asking for help." In case you're wondering, that was a great answer. Care about other people, but don't pry into other people's business; point out our similarities while also encouraging autonomy. 

By simply acknowledging her question and pointing out how we're similar, she made that little girl one less person that will stare at me just for being out in public with a wheelchair or a cane. One less person that will think I'm amazing for going to the store on my own (seriously, adults have cheered for me). One less person that will run to hold a door for me, surprised that I'm already through by the time they get there. Most importantly, one more person that will see me as a person, not the wheelchair I use to get around or the cane I use to hold me up.