People don’t see
you; they see
your cane,
your chair,
your walker.
They see your tremor
and your white hair, and
the you you used to be and
the you you are
are supplanted by
images and stereotypes and judgments.
You were young
once.
You had dreams once.
You have dreams now.
And momentary
kindnesses feel patronizing, just putting a round peg in a round hole
because
they think they
know all there is to know about you.
This weakness snuck
up with little warning, and there you were full speed ahead—and your life
blended in with all the other capable doers, even though you were ever trying
to stand out—
be different.
And now you are.
But you don’t want
to be this different—so different as to not be seen
or listened to
or valued.
Because people
don’t see you; they see
your cane,
your chair,
your walker.
And they judge you
as you pull into the handicap spot; but
when you peel
yourself out and start to hobble, there’s the momentary tut-tut of support
before you become invisible once again, and all that is left is
the cane.
---------------------------
I have been hobbling around lately because of a knee injury, and
it got me thinking as I relied so heavily on a cane (resisted the walker).
Often when we view those with health aids, we see the disability as the person.
Somehow it is hard to look past the device. The personhood of the individual
becomes invisible to the predominance of the device. The handicapped become a
category; and unless you push in and get close, it is easy for their
personalities to disappear in the disability.
I felt this somewhat a few years back when I used a motorized
cart in a store when I was first getting out again after breaking a rib. It was
an odd experience to feel some people were looking down on you literally and in
other ways, too--judging your need, assessing your worth, pitying you. And in
those moments, I felt a lesser version of me to these strangers than I would
have before.
When we meet people out and about, when they roll or hobble in
to our churches and our places of employment, do we go out of our way not just
to perhaps help or make a broad path; but do we see them as people worthy of
getting to know--people with personalities and worth who stand apart from their
weakness?
I am going
to try harder.
