There are reasons why I don’t like labels, and there are times when I wish I was capable of more. But they say a picture speaks a thousand words, and when I am confronted by my limitations I am glad my wheelchair does some of the talking.

In a busy store I don’t have to explain why it takes me longer to grab my change. In fact, I’m sure some customers withhold rude comments they would otherwise say to me if it wasn’t for my wheelchair. When I am navigating my way through a crowd, people know enough to clear more than two inches; actually, they’re more likely to give me extra room. Finally, if I cross the street really slowly, people know better than to honk at me. Some will even jump out of their car to ask if I’m okay. These scenarios, and many more, point to the fact that my chair says many things - “be patient”, “don’t make her struggle” and “she might need assistance”. My chair gives me some power to act atypically, without social repercussions - a fact which I greatly appreciate. Still, I try not to abuse the privilege, because I know that without it I would suffer the wrath of many on a daily basis. I consider it a luxury, not a right.

I have some friends who, due to a slight difference in their limitations and / or a sheer act of willpower, choose not to use a mobility aid, even though they go about their day more slowly and struggle with certain tasks more than I would. As a result, the general public will hurry them along or become frustrated by them. My question is, if people do not carry on that way with me, why do they feel compelled to do so to others? There is no need to wait for obvious signs of disadvantage before acting considerately; it is not beyond our capabilities to act compassionately toward friends, families and strangers alike.

So if you use a wheelchair or another prominent mobility device, do not assume that the compassion you receive is simply owed to you because of your disability - such consideration should be universal.

Until next time keep on rolling in the city.

~ Chantal