|
Disability Etiquette:
An article by Mike Squire from the Winter '93 Holding Hands
|
For this reason I am often treated differently from people of standard height. Life at the bottom level is different and often humorous because of the etiquette that I meet. This is my view of life at the 'bottom level'. . . .
The wheelchair is part of the 4ft tall person who spends around 12 hours a day sitting in it. Leaning on a wheelchair proves amusing when it moves suddenly and the relaxing person topples to the floor. It is not common etiquette to lean on each other for relaxation. Nor is it usual to hang jackets, coats and bags on the shoulder of a friend – very few hooks are built into the human shoulder. I once ripped a leather jacket which hung from my chair's push-handle, much to the disgust of the owner. One advantage is that occasionally other people's baggage can inadvertantly be taken home and some gains are made – loaves of bread are very useful, as was the black cardigan I now own – and the fishnet stockings?
As my head is at the same level as a young child's, I face strange comments like "have you passed your test?" and "I hope you're not speeding, my son. . ." (Tell me where the nearest Acid House Party is and I could be!). This makes me feel as if I'm six years of age and whizzing around on a Sonic the Hedgehog Speed Buggy, rather than an expensive aid to mobility.
I am also a great fan of kiddies' comics as they are the only magazines I can reach off a newsagent's shelf. Much time is wasted asking people to hand down books from higher shelves, and then asking for them to be replaced – in fact most newsagents can tell when I've been browsing, as all third shelf magazines are suddenly scattered along the bottom shelf, as I replace them by covering the Beano, Dandy and Sonic II comics – I don't think I shall ever become a dirty old man!
Another example of Disability Etiquette is Conversation. The most common example is talking to someone in a wheelchair in the third person. I have never heard anyone say "Does he take sugar?", but two of my favourites are "He must have come from Stoke Mandeville?" and "Is he allowed to drink?" (never!!! ed.). This does not happen too often, and when it does it is only embarrassment and ignorance, but it is very aggravating. I once had a relationship with a German young lady ("is he allowed a relationship?"), and for the only time in my life I became the third person, translating and linking other people – talk about role reversal.
A particular plea – do not stand close to someone in a wheelchair, especially SMA's, when talking. One has to raise one's head up to be able to see you – neck ache arises. But also with me, my head falls back and, instead of replying to the question "do you agree?", I have to say "Can you lift my head up?". To retaliate, I can reverse backwards and narrow the angle, but if you move forward again we can spend a whole conversation enacting a strange dance on the pavement.
Public goodwill plays a large part in enabling one to carry out life's tasks. Small offers of help are very important. "Ooh, I didn't know whether I should have offered or not" is said to me so often. My response is: "Yes, if you have the decency to notice the difficulty I am facing, please offer, I will say no if I don't need assistance and assume you will accept that".
Pavements and steps are a must for help, but only under instruction. I part with more pieces of my wheelchair going up pavements than I do money when shopping. If steps are my only option and I require assistance from joe Public, I play "The Shoe Game", where I stare at passing feet until a pair of trainers or Doc Martins float by and that person is chosen because of their practical shoes.
However much tuition is given, people hold the wrong parts of my chair and many a footrest has caused me panic, as I hang suspended until full grip is recovered. My most tuneful ascent of stairs was when a group of Morris Dancers happened to be wearing the correct shoes. If you don't want to help, wear stilettos! It goes without saying that in the mid 90s one should not need to be confronted with steps at all!
One must never mock goodwill. I am known for doing strange and silly things in public (singing in Sainsbury's is a favourite of mine). I was once out in a park on a cold afternoon and, seeing a lady walking her dog, started to do my impression of a dog panting. She noticed and came up to me, saying: "Yes, it is cold. You would find the crocheted blanket I'm making very useful". Three weeks later, after I had forgotten all about the event, the lady appeared at my door and presented me with the most fabulous blanket I have ever seen, which is still a treasured posession of mine. Thank you again, whoever you were . . . .
Some goodwill can be expressed in a patronising way. I believe that such patronising occurs through ignorance, so let's get educating . . . A very basic example is patting on the head. I find this very annoying, basically because it takes me half an hour, and all my energy, to get my hair looking neat, trendy and sexy(ish). With baldness running in my family, one also wonders what effect all this patting is having on my roots – a very embarrassing situation could develop from a toupee. . .
I hope I have highlighted some of the areas where I believe Disability Etiquette is most common. Such an article should not need to be written, and hopefully one day Disability Etiquette will be no different to any other social etiquette. Due to the fact that I live at the 'Bottom' level, I felt I should finish with Toilet Etiquette.
Toilets which operate the Radar Key Scheme are great if unlocked, or the attendant is not situated on the other side of the car park. One does require a very large pocket for the key. If society could move away from vandalising loos it would make my life much easier, so come on guys and gals, keep those spray cans away! I admire the attitudes of females in a south-west seaside town where I remember the disabled loo was placed in their area only . . . can I assure you all that I never peeped! Children are great, so inquisitive to see how I tackle the situation, and their parents are the most embarrassed when the kids say: "It'll need to be much, much longer to reach in there if he's sitting down".
Life is strange from the 'Bottom' level
Mike Squire, Winter 1993.
© JTSMA 12th December 1997