“Can you walk?”
It was such an innocent question, asked by a young girl probably 7 or 8 years old. It was asked with no judgement, no pity, no ulterior motive and no agenda. “I can't walk very much. A few steps, but not very far”, I answered. “Oh, like my Grandpa!”, she responded.
I volunteer at a museum a couple of weekends a month, and she was one of our visitors. Our brief conversation has stayed with me since it occurred. It has stuck with me because it was so honest, so clear and so totally straightforward.
The young girl has made me think: What if adults were more like that? I have used a wheelchair for 9 years now, and the number of times I’ve been asked “What happened?” is too large to count. But with adults, an answer from me is often met with “Oh, I’m sorry”, “It must be terrible”, or other expressions of sympathy or pity. Most people, even those who are well-meaning, are awkward around people with disabilities. If we are lucky, they are worried about saying the wrong thing. All too often, they aren’t thinking at all, and just blurt out the first thing that comes to their mind. And it can be really offensive, or hurtful. Even friends who truly care for us can stumble into a sentence or phrase that reveals more about their own underlying fear or discomfort than our feelings or mental state. Sometimes, words are not necessary for us to see what they are thinking. We have probably all felt parents pull their children back from talking to us in our chairs, or adults give us a look that reveals an attitude of pity.