Hi, Linda,
Wow, this is truly inspirational. Thanks for sharing it with us.
Rosie
From: linda gehres
Sent: Saturday, September 19, 2015 7:22 PM
To: ourplace@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Subject: [ourplace] To the People Who React to My Disability With 'I'm Sorry'
I thought I’d pass this article along about a young woman who lives with an
entirely different disability so we could get a bit of a view from her
perspective. She sounds like a very inspirational kind of person.
Linda G.
o the People Who React to My Disability With ‘I’m Sorry’
Karin Hitselberger
Sep 18, 2015
Often people approach me and ask the about my chair. Sometimes it’s a little
awkward, but when they approach it the right way, and I decide to answer, the
conversation usually goes a something like this:
Person: “So if you don’t mind, may I ask why you’re in a wheelchair?”
Me: “I have cerebral palsy. I was born this way, it’s just how I am, I have
always been in a wheelchair.”
Person: “Oh! I’m so sorry! That must suck. I didn’t know.”
Me: “That’s OK, don’t be sorry, I’m not. It’s just part of who I am.”
Person: “I can’t even imagine. It must just be so awful. You’re so brave!”
Me: (Screams internally.) “I’m really not brave, I’m just a person. Have a nice
day.”
The truth is, I can’t stand these conversations. I can’t stand that people
think they are being nice by apologizing for my very existence. The truth is,
my life may be different from the average, but it’s nothing to be sorry for.
When you apologize for my identity, you are reinforcing the idea that who
I am, who I was born to be is anything but desirable. When you apologize for my
identity, you are signaling to me that I should feel bad about it too,
and for a long time I did.
For a long time, my disability and my wheelchair were everything that was wrong
with me. These things were everything that made me different. These things were
everything that separated me from what was normal, and I was too young and too
caught up in our current cultural narrative to see the truth. For years I
wished that I could be anything but who I was. For years I wished I could be
normal the way our society defines it, just so people would stop staring. For
years I believed I was the problem, and if I could just be different everything
else would be, too. For years I believed the lie that I was something to be
sorry for.
From an outsider perspective it’s easy to look at disability and think that’s
something to be sorry for, but that’s not the truth. Who I am today, the girl
people call brave and smart and strong-willed and a million other things, I am
because of my disability, not in spite of it. My dreams, my passions, my
purpose and my drive are a direct result of who I am, not a shocking anomaly.
When you apologize for my wheelchair, my disability, you apologize for the
person I’ve become. When you apologize for my wheelchair, you make it seem like
I’m the problem, like who I am is so bad that I deserve an apology for just
having to live. My wheelchair is part of who I am, as is my disability, and I
am proud of them. They have helped to define me and shape the way I see the
world. They have given me some of my best friends and greatest life goals.
These things are no longer what separates me from others, but rather are what
has given me some of the people I love the most, who understand me and love me
back — not in spite of who I am, but precisely because of it. To me, this is
amazing, and certainly nothing to be sorry for.
If you want to be sorry for something, apologize for discrimination. Apologize
for the fact that there are still places in this country I cannot go. Apologize
for the fact that people treat me differently just because I roll instead of
walk. Apologize for the fact that in a prestigious college interview, I was
told I wouldn’t like the school because “there are not many people like you
there.”
If you want to apologize for something, apologize for inequality. Apologize for
the stunning lack of accessible housing and accessible transportation.
Apologize for the ridiculously high unemployment rate in the disability
community. Apologize for staring. Apologize for treating me like a little girl
even though I’m a 23-year-old woman. Apologize for stereotypes and
stigmatization.
If you want to apologize for something, apologize for all those things, because
all of those things are worth being sorry about. But don’t apologize for
my identity. Don’t apologize for who I am. Don’t apologize for my wheelchair.
It allows me to live the amazing life that I have. Don’t apologize for what
makes me different. I’m not ashamed of it, and I’m not sorry. You shouldn’t be
either.
http://themighty.com/2015/09/to-the-people-who-react-to-my-disability-with-im-sorry/
