For the past couple of weeks I have been thinking about a short
conversation I had on Facebook about who complains about the lack of
accommodation - the temporarily disabled or the permanently so. It seemed to those participating in the
conversation that the temporarily disabled were more likely to call out the
deficiencies of buildings, and we wondered if perhaps it was “the zealousness of someone who has had an awakening, that
is, this person has not previously been aware of the problems and suddenly is.” And I think that is so. But why?
Why is it that we who are permanently
disabled don’t demand the accommodation we deserve, and to which the law says
we are entitled? If we are clergy, we
might not want to push our luck with the appointment process. We might have received the message, expressly
or implicitly, that we are lucky to be where we are and we’d better not make
any waves.
Many disabled folk, no matter what
our status, might have asked before, more than once, and we’ve just given
up. Or the results have been less than
satisfactory and so we just wing it on our own.
Or roll away in disgust.
In my case, when I first became a
wheelchair user my husband was alarmed at this upstart creature I had become,
protesting when I could not enter a building or find a place to sit in my
wheelchair, or park and exit my side-loading ramp van. But soon he was on the bandwagon, protesting
when we couldn’t sit together at a conference, or when a compact car zipped into
the van-accessible parking space when other spaces were available, or when the
handicapped entrance to a public building was located in the alley next to the
garbage cans. But I noticed that after
awhile I tended to stop asking, or complaining, as if I realized the futility
of it all.
We’ve been in a new town for a little
over a year. We were invited to the
opening of the new Visitor’s Center when it opened a year ago, but got there
only to find it wasn’t wheelchair accessible.
We told the friend who invited us, who was embarrassed as he was a
friend of the man who was in charge of the building renovation. But to date nothing has been done to rectify
the situation.
One of the town’s revered art museums
is in a building with the handicapped entrance in the alley next to the garbage
cans. I was invited to a reception
honoring Senior Volunteers at that location; I respectfully declined and told
the organizers why. I hope they’ll
choose a better locale next year. I
can’t be the only senior volunteer with mobility issues.
I delight in supporting the local
dance company, and one of the gifted young dancers is a member of our local
church. But the wheelchair seating in
the lovely old theatre where they dance is front and center - the very front
row. I really can’t see very well, and
my neck is quite sore by the end of the program, but I really don’t have any
other choice. And the company is so
excited to present me with these “premium” seats. The director of the company even greets me at
the start of the program. What does one
do?
Have I become less insistent because
I am less hopeful of a positive outcome?
Or because I am simply tired? I
do fight an autoimmune disease which taxes my strength, and this week’s
devotional is overdue (I apologize) because I am ill once again. But can’t I find a way to continue to
advocate with tools that don’t require a lot of energy? As Mahatma Gandhi famously said, “You must be
the change you wish to see in the world.”
But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things
will be given to you as well.
Matthew 6:33
Dear Creator God, Give us all
the courage to seek change, the words to invoke change, and the strength
to continue working for change even when change seems impossible. In the name of your son, the architect of
change. Amen
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