Disaboom equalaccess Blog

What do you want me to do, cry?

equalaccess — Tue, 12 Aug 2008 04:29:00 GMT

A man stomped on my foot yesterday. He turned around, looked like I shot him, and said,
"Oh, I am so sorry." I looked at him and said calmly, "That's alright. I can't feel it anyway."

I was working on access with executives of a large chain of department stores and they were following behind my car. When they got out and walked up to me, they said, "I never saw the frame around your license plate before." like I had said something sacreligious. I said, "If I can't laugh at myself, then no one else will." My license plate frame says, "I broke my back to get this van." and had strangely unnerved them.

When I am in the mall and a tinker guard comes running after me like I just killed somebody, shouting, "You can't bring that dog in here." To defuse the situation I say, "That is not a dog." That usually stops these uninformed and overly aggressive temps in their tracks. They say, "It's not, what is it.?" I say, "It's a technical device." which according to the law she is. That keeps him thinking long enough for me to explain that she is a service dog and has a tag around her neck. If he is really unprofessional, his next response will be, "That cannot be a service dog, it is too small. Service dogs are german shepherds." Confronted with this, I will typically respond, "Any size dog can be a service animal as long as it can perform the tasks the disabled host needs. She is small so that I can take care of her myself." Then I will smile and impishly slip in, "Be glad she is not a snake, or a service monkey." I know a woman who has a snake that turns the light switches on and off. I know a man who has a service monkey that makes him a sandwich.

My electric wheelchair was broken for many years and could not be fixed. It would go forward and get me off the lift and out of the car, but it could not go backwards. So, I could not get back into the car once I had disembarked. Legally, one must back onto the lift. Therefore, I had all manner of people who would notice my situation and insist upon pushing me backwards into the car, as my service dog kissed them in gratitude. Once I was at Target and two women came along, one with a bad back and the other blind. They insisted upon pushing me. As I tried to argue them out of it, a man came walking along with one leg. When I said no to them all, they said quite firmly, "Let us do this, because together we can." At King Kullen, a muscular older woman came along and insisted on pushing me backwards onto the lift. As she was, I kept saying, "Please, I don't want you to hurt yourself." She said, "I can do this just fine. I am 95 years old." I gasped and said, "Please, I don't want to have to call your children and tell them that you dropped dead pushing me into the car."

I had installed handicapped parking spaces throughout a township. One of the shop owners did not like a space in front of his store that was not for the able bodied. So, when I returned for my next meeting, the space had been removed. I repainted the space and was told that the shop owners did not understand why there were so many spaces, and that they were often empty. I explained that the spaces were installed and located to comply with the law. I told them to respond to the complaints that they were sometimes empty by explaining that if you have 5 toilets in a toilet room and one is not used for a period of time, you do not remove it.

I was trying to get an elevator put into an inaccessible library. We were having a Variety Show for Access the next day to raise money for the elevator. I heard around, that nobody was going to come to the show, since it was a hotly contested issue. So, I dressed a dear friend of my son up in a lion suit and we stood on the corner of Main Street all day in the freezing cold. 800 people showed up at the show and we got our elevator.

A popular hamburger chain had outdated bathrooms, with a very narrow hall with two sets of doors 3' apart. It was a hideous hazard that they would not acknowledge. So, I went to the bathroom and inevitably got stuck between the doors and the walls, with a film crew, and put them on t.v. The bathrooms in the whole chain were redesigned.

There is a man who cannot walk, but stands up every day.

equalaccess — Mon, 11 Aug 2008 19:14:00 GMT

There is a man who walks but does not stand up. He walks along a street with manicured lawns and fragrant daffodils, and bemoans his lousy life. He thinks of his next haircut, and how many yankee doodles are in his lunch pouch. There is a man who cannot walk, but stands up every day. His wheelchair motor is broken and the chair hops like a little white bunny up the ramp. He holds the joystick firmly. He sees brilliant flowers where there are dandelions, and builds real castles for broken people with powerful dreams, on solid dirt.

I saw a man locked out of this magnificent place and I felt his pain.

equalaccess — Sat, 09 Aug 2008 05:43:00 GMT

I saw a man locked out of this magnificent place, I felt his pain. I began a journey to get that man the key. I broke steely barriers and moved ancient walls. Great buildings fell and rose accessible. I shouted from the mountain top and mountains became open plains. I wrote laws to conquer inequity, and books to smother cruelty. I expanded the perception of able bodied men. I made them clear the snow from token ramps and move the cars closer to the door. I put violators on television without mercy. I carried the weak gently in my arms, and threw the powerful from cliffs. I torched myself repeatedly as the universal disabled man and rose from the ashes with fistsfull of toilet rooms, curb cuts, accessible meeting places, and amplification devices. I swallowed gallons of dirt and caressed shimmering changes. I am laughed at unmercifully and revered by the recipients of golden keys. But 31 years later, I see so much yet unfinished, and I am in tremendous awe of the journey ahead. I see a man locked out of this magnificent place, and I feel his pain.

Do Not look away from us!

equalaccess — Fri, 01 Aug 2008 03:57:00 GMT

I met a little girl in Barnes and Noble. She could not keep her hands off my joystick. She asked her mom why I was in that big machine - was I broken? I showed her how to move the machine and stop it. She didn't want to let go. She probed my legs and petted my service dog. Every answer I gave, she innocently shot back "Why?" I delighted in her inquisitiveness. I silently blessed her mother, who did not yank her away, with, "I'll tell you when we get home." Blessed are the questioners, for they are not afraid to look at us.