80% of disabilities are invisible
An update!
Hey sweet teas (sweeties, geddit?)
I know I promised you poetry, and I am working on it, but I am waiting on a new computer because using an iPad for all this writing has become too painful! In the meantime, here’s an extended version of a post I recently wrote, which you’ll be familiar with if you follow me on instagram
It’s about my recent experience voting in the local council elections…
I knew the question was coming before she even opened her mouth.
We pulled into the polling station, parked in the disabled spot, put the blue badge up and as I put my mask on, my Mum tells me to ‘walk carefully’.
Walk carefully. Look a bit sad. Prove you are in as much pain as you feel. Wipe off the brave smile so we don’t have to deal with an argument. And as I walk up to the entrance I pause, wondering if I am putting on more of a limp than I really ‘need’ to, even though my hip is pretty agonising. I wonder if she will ask. I wonder what I will say. A year not having to deal with strangers, questioning, misunderstanding. A year of learning about ableism and advocacy and watching society ignore the most vulnerable. And I think, no, I am tired. Maybe she won’t ask! I will not try to explain why I don’t want to be asked. And as I decide that, the woman has walked out from behind the polling station desk to be as near as possible when she asks me:
‘do you need to use the disabled entrance?’
Tired. I sigh. ‘Yes.’
‘Okay!’ She hurries back.
And I try to brush it off, well that wasn’t so bad, she wasn’t rude, she didn’t argue. And I try not to think about my parents walking in behind me and I try not to assume that her assumption will be that I am using the disabled entrance for them, not that they are using it for me. If I were in my wheelchair would she have said that? If my arm was in a sling, if I was using a stick, if I looked less than perfectly healthy?
I chastise myself for being offended- snowflake, you’ve had much worse, she didn’t argue with you. But it was the assumption. The reminder that even though I had a two hour seizure less than a week before, even though I couldn’t get out of bed just yesterday, nobody can see the excruciating pain I am struggling with.
There is no accessible polling booth that I can see, there is no stool or chair to use as I cross the box for the Green Party. If I were in my wheelchair I wouldn’t be able to reach the table to write my vote.
If I hadn’t recorded a podcast episode earlier today about this very thing, maybe I wouldn’t have noticed how bad it made me feel? No, I would have noticed. I just wouldn’t have understood why it made me feel bad.
Why didn’t she check our car for the blue badge? Why did she have to ask me? Why am I so upset about this- she didn’t say anything rude! Except… she did. And I am upset. 80% of disabled people are invisibly disabled. It is not okay to challenge someone for using access. You never know the full story, and most of the time, you shouldn’t need to. There was no queue, nobody behind us. What damage did she think she was preventing if her suspicion was correct, and I was a faker- has anyone actually ever met somebody who faked a disability? Why should the rest of us suffer for their deceitfulness? Why didn’t she think of the damage she’d do if she was wrong?
I’ll speak to you soon with a more regular schedule!
Love,
HB x