Friday, October 24, 2014

Wizard Not

It's our last day in Edmonton and we've had a great time thus far. I've given two full day lectures to two big rooms of people who listened, laughed and took notes. I enjoyed myself. It's nice when those things go well.

We've had a pretty good experience with accessibility too, even though we've had little time to get out and explore. But, I think most importantly, the ramps down to the hotel bar that stocked 50 scotches were perfectly pitched to send me straight there!

This morning, as Joe packs, I'm getting ready for the last of what we are doing here. I'm doing a session for self advocates on rights. Like all the talks I do, it takes organizing and it takes focus to get my mind and my manner perfectly attuned to what I am doing. So this morning when I went down to breakfast, by myself because Joe forgot something back in the room. I flew down ramp one, and then glided down ramp two. As I zipped by the bar where we heartily celebrated Joe's birthday the night before with his nephew and his lovely partner Cindy and knew that it had been a good night. But I arrived, finally at the restaurant.

It was, thankfully, a seat yourself affair. We were having breakfast a little later because we're starting work a little later and it was fuller than I'd seen it before. I began to make my way down an aisle that I'd judged wide enough for me and my chair. There were breafasters on either side of me as I pushed. I'm pretty skilled at this and usually manage with no trouble. But I kept getting distracted by thoughts of the self advocate presentation. I veered once into a woman's walker, she, unsurprisingly just smiled and moved it to the side. Then a few feet later I thought again of something I want to do differently and banged into another chair. I was like a big slow pinball banging from side to side down the aisle.

The moral to this story?

And yes there is one.

Don't think and drive.

Thursday, October 23, 2014

HBTY Joe!

Today is Joe's birthday.He'll be a ripe old 62 years old. I am still 61 and will be a year younger than him for a couple of months. Something that gives me way more pleasure than it should. We are in Edmonton and will be having dinner with family tonight so there will be a small celebration then. I think for today I'll give you five facts about Joe that you may not know:

1) Joe has a great deal of difficulty with the computer, it seems to simply fight him back. He often sits at the computer muttering and making vague threats at Google.

2) It's kindly to say that Joe isn't really aware of pop culture. He likes classical music to the exclusion of all others. He often says that we have to get out of a store because the music is driving him to distraction.

3) Joe really is as nice as he appears to be. Always. Even to other drivers on the road. He's the one who stops to let someone in, the one who waves hesitant jaywalkers by ... the one who drives me to distraction - come on, do you have to be nice to EVERYONE??

4) Mashed potatoes is Joe's comfort food. He loves them. We have (veggie) bangers and mash on a very regular basis - this is one of the meals we have after returning from a trip on the road. Whenever I suggest it he always says, "Really, can we?" As if it's this rare and wondrous occurrence.

5) Joe hates to be centered out in a crowd. He's a behind the scenes guy and he's good at it. He likes the arranging and the planning and the making things ready but he doesn't like the spotlight on him. |But I'm hoping today he doesn't mind that I turned it on him in this blog post.

So ... HAPPY BIRTHDAY JOE!!!

It's been another wonderful year together, and for you, you get to be with a much younger boyfriend for a couple of months!

Wednesday, October 22, 2014

Old and New

I am writing this from my hotel room in Edmonton. Clearly, then, I managed to get here. But I got here after a really good flight. I need to give a shout out to AIR CANADA and both their ground and on board crews. They were helpful, kind and generous with their time and their expertise. They really made the trip one that is memorable because of the service I got. From my arrival at the airport in Toronto to getting the rental car in Edmonton every single person I met from Air Canada was helpful. It almost felt like someone had done a course on exactly what my needs were and how to most effectively support me. I have found that Air Canada typically offers pretty good service (I won't fly another airline) but yesterdays trip was way more than pretty good.

I want to tell you of an incident though, that was, for me, surprising and funny. We were the last off the plane. I don't like people pushing me uphill and though I can't walk very far, very well, when there is an incline, I try to walk it. So, I did. I got about two thirds of the way when I turned a corner and found a steeper, longer ramp to the top. By then I knew I was over exerting myself and that I simply couldn't do this last bit of the trip without resting.

I asked for and was given my chair and I told them to give me a few minutes and then I'd tackle it again. The woman who had been sent to meet me at the gate to provide help with getting to baggage was talking to another woman behind me. They both were absolutely sure that they, together, could push me up the ramp. I began to protest saying that I don't want my weight or my disability to hurt anyone. They said that they would get speed up and let momentum take me up the ramp.

I put my feet on the footrests, I felt their hands take hold of the handle and then ... they began to run! We hit the incline and flew up it. We were at the top in seconds. They were both laughing and congratulating each other. One of them said that it was good that's she'd got a workout by 'bringing in the hay' the day before.

From there we needed no more assistance because Joe and I could do the rest by ourselves. We thanked them and they grinned and waved us on.

For the whole day, from the arrival at the airport in Toronto to the top of the ramp in Edmonton, I knew that they were providing help for me, juggling things to get it right, but never, not once, did I feel like a bother to them.

Not once.

At one time, years ago, the essence of customer service was that staff made you feel important, it has devolved in recent years to the point that good customer service is that the staff don't make you feel like a bother.

I got old and new yesterday. I felt like I mattered and I didn't feel like a bother.

That's remarkable, for anyone travelling in a wheelchair, that's just plain remarkable.

Tuesday, October 21, 2014

Today

In moments we head to the airport.

In moments I have to put myself and my needs into the hands of others.

And sometime, noon, the day before.

I begin to pray, to hope and to will into being.

A day full of decent people.

I don't ask for kind people.

I don't ask for generous people.

Just decent.

I don't want humiliation.

That's all.

Really.

That's all.

Monday, October 20, 2014

Fury-ous

I lost it yesterday.

Just lost it.

In order to understand, for those of you who don't use a wheelchair, I need to explain the build up. I had to work Saturday until two and therefore didn't get home until somewhere after three. We got home and left immediately, planning to catch the four o'clock showing of Fury. Never realizing that it would be me who was unleashing fury even before getting to the movie.

The sidewalks were packed and after a block or two we regretted not just taking the subway. I drove steadfastly and carefully. I've never run into anyone, although others have run into me, and I fill my mouth with politeness - excuse me please, thank you very much, could I just get by you there. These are mostly directed at people who are standing in the middle of a sidewalk texting or talking or otherwise 'I-ing' with their phone. It gets tiresome using manners when your whole being wants to shout - get out of the freaking way!!!

I was pretty used up with my store of politeness and patience, therefore, when I got to the lobby of the building which houses the cinema on the fourth floor. We went to the elevators and were the only ones waiting. The building has a remarkable set of escalators giving those without disabilities and without strollers an excellent option. However, there are those, like the twenty-somethings, out together in a group, gathered behind us, who for some reason prefer the elevator.

We were clearly there first.

We were clearly in front.

This means that we were waiting longest.

The door opened to an empty elevator and they swarmed around me piling on the elevator. I was trying to turn around to back on when one of them almost ran into me. I stopped. I was furious. I said, "No, no, please go ahead!" Then I brought my chair to a complete stop. One of them told me to go ahead, I said, knowing that the elevator was full now, "No, you are so damned desperate to get on before the cripple does so get the hell on." They got on.

I turned to see Joe in the elevator holding the door open for me. The others were on, if they packed to each side, I could get on, but they stood there looking at me to solve the problem. Well, I did. "Joe, get off, we'll take the next one unless selfish prats swarm us then too. I guess being first in line means nothing to people who consider themselves above such conventions." Joe got off, the door closed on me saying, "I hope you very important people find someone else to teach your children manners."

We managed to get to the theatre on time. I asked Joe if he was looking forward to seeing Fury, he said, mocking me, "I feel like I already have."

Sunday, October 19, 2014

Spitting on Spite

I was reading an article today about sexuality and disability and the feature was about a woman with cerebral palsy. The subtitle of the article said something like (sorry I looked but couldn't find it again) 'She doesn't let cerebral palsy get in the way of living her life.' Now, remember, this from my remembering - I am sure I got some words wrong but what I didn't get wrong was the fact that she not letting her disability get in the way of her living her life.

This kind of thing annoys the shit out of me because it places 'disability' at the centre of the problem, it states that disability, itself, is the barrier, it telegraphs the message - DISABILITY DOES BAD THINGS TO YOUR LIFE. There is no question that having a disability adds a whole new wrinkle to living one's life but pretty much everyone with a disability learns pretty quickly that disability is the LEAST of the problem.

Attitudes.
Barriers.
Prejudice.
Barriers.
Hatred.
Barriers.
Ignorance.
Barriers.

There's a very short and not even slightly comprehensive list of what 'gets in the way' of living life fully.

Sexuality and disability - check the prejudices and the assumptions that people make of us as somewhat slightly less than fully human and only slightly below the 'icky' line of sexual attractiveness.

Employment and disability - check the attitudinal barriers that are bolstered by the physical barriers, shit if I had to make the work site accessible I'd have to work with 'those people' so I can pretend it's the stairs not the stares that are the problem.

Access and disability - check the frequency with which people with guide dogs are disallowed in stores and in churches and on transit. As was pointed out recently (Hi Amy) that no one in the Western World is unaware that guide dogs and other accessible devises are allowed in public spaces. Denying them is, then, not an act of ignorance but an act of hatred. Get it right.

I've even had people say to me that 'in spite of your disability, you've done pretty well,' I wanted to respond, 'And I must say that I think you've done well in spite of being a woman.' I didn't say it, I wouldn't say it because even to make a point I don't think that sexist language should be part of a discourse. Saying 'in spite of being who you are ... ' means 'who you are is a bad thing and you are coping well, poor dear ...'

If non-disabled people want to write about disability shouldnt' get have at least an inkling that we also may be the audience. That subtitle on that article was written, not for readers with disabilities but for readers without. It was written up to shore the idea that 'hey you don't have to do anything because what she faces she faces because of cerebral palsy none of it could be because you are a hateful ass who refuses to see people with disabilities as fully adult and fully human.'

This isn't an subtitle that suggests the article is about her at all, it assures non-disabled people that it's safe to read - the disability stands accused so you won't be.

And.

No.

I didn't read it.

I couldn't get by the subtitle, it was like the writer placed a staircase in front of the article barring access to those of us who live with disabilities and who think while we read.

Wednesday, October 15, 2014

Citizenship!

We voted yesterday.

And I had a thought.

As we arrived at the 519 Church Street Community Centre we saw signs indicating that this was indeed a polling station. Even though we've been there several times and knew where the accessible entrance was (thankfully not through the back door) it was cool to see that there were really clear directions for wheelchair users and others who needed a ramp placed strategically to catch those coming from either north or south. Once into the building, again there was clear signage fro both those who walked and those who rolled. Further there were those there to help out anyone who was even slightly confused about where to go.

Inside I was given clear directions, in plain language, for how to fill out the ballot. As it turned out I was glad of the instructions because I'd never seen a ballot like the one I'd been given and it needed to be marked in a way I've never done before. I'd have figured it out, but the explanation was clear, quick and easy to understand. They had a voting both for people with disabilities who needed adaptive equipment (I didn't see what the equipment was or what it did) but as I just needed a bit of space they simply pulled one of the tables out a bit further from the wall.

I voted.

I handed it in.

I saw it processed.

My civic duty had been done.

But, what I thought about, was that everything that was there for me, every single adaption, from the ramp to the building, to the door openers, to the disability signage, to the use of plain language, to the adapted booth, to the quick and ready assistance to move a table - every single thing represented a victory, represented a battle won for access and equal citizenship for people with disabilities. I was there voting because others fought, not for the right to vote but for the right to be able to vote - to access the electoral process.

I voted because others made that possible.

My citizenship and full participation, as a wheelchair user, was not granted to me by the simple fact I was born Canadian.

My citizenship is hard won.
My citizenship was established by battle not gifted by government.
My citizenship isn't to be taken lightly.

I owe a debt to those who fought for and won the ramp that takes me from passive recipient to active participant.

I owe a promise to those yet to come that what we have we will not loose and what we need we will continue to fight for - and voting is a helluva good place to start.