I just need to get out some thoughts. If I don’t now, it will just bother me for three weeks straight only for me to forget about it and have something happen to trigger the obsessive angry thinking again.
Imagine you are sitting on the bus. It’s not packed with people, but it’s busy, so you sit in the priority seating – you’re getting off the bus soon anyway, it’s not a big deal. To your slight dismay a person with a disability is getting on at the next stop, they aren’t in a wheelchair, and there are quite a few seats open in the rowed section, so you and your friends don’t move from your seat in the accessible seating area. The person – a young twenty something with a cane- huffs to herself as she hobbles over to a seat right behind the priority seating and jumps as the girl behind her smacks her bag against her shoulder on accident. The disabled lady looks disgruntled, angry almost. You suspect it’s only from the lady who bumped her. Across from you, you notice there is a stroller taking over the entire other side of the priority seating area. Something strikes you as odd about it, but you shake off the feeling and get off at the station, your last stop of the day.
Now Imagine that you are the disabled twenty-something. Getting onto the bus after a long day. Your muscles ache, your joints are wobbly, you are over-heated, and you have a headache from being out in the sun for 15 minutes while waiting for the bus. Finally, your bus arrives- five minutes late-, but you forget the tardiness and get onto the bus. The bus driver doesn’t lower the entrance door- your knee pops in and out of the socket as you board. You wince, tap your bus card, and hobble toward the accessible seating. Oh, there’s a stroller blocking the way… okay you check the other side… three young people sit in the most accessible seats and they aren’t moving, they aren’t even paying attention to you. An old married couple sits in the next closest seats… can’t ask them to move. Oh! There’s are seats right behind them and they are empty, you should be able to comfortably sit there with your cane and bag. Won’t be too uncomfortable. You thought too soon. As soon as you sit down, a young lady with several large grocery bags sits down beside you, knocking you in the shoulder several times as she gets settled in her seat. Pain ripples from the spot on your shoulder: down your arm to your finger tips- even your finger nails hurt-, up your neck to your head – intensifying your headache-, down your back to your hips, your knees, your ankles, your toes. Everything hurts – so much for having a good day. Your anxiety sets in as you squish yourself up against the window, tense. You’re getting off soon anyway, it’s not a big deal. The bus arrives at the station, it stops at its bay, as old passengers depart, new ones shuffle on, not allowing you to access the front door where the driver can lower the exit to the ground. You hobble to the back of the bus and exit there. As you step down your ankle pops in and out of its socket.
The point of my writing these short excerpt-like stories is that – this is based off personal experience, I have experienced similar things on multiple occasions- this is what it is like to be disabled in an able-bodied world. Accessible seating is taken over by strollers, shopping carts, and people who refuse to move for us. I know that the word “entitled” has a negative connotation to it, however the word has two meanings. You can be entitled to something because you are at a disadvantage without it, but you can also be rude and spoiled and believe you are entitled to something you are not (you see where the negative connotation comes in?) people with disabilities are entitled to the accessible seating area because they physically need it. Yes, you an able-bodied person may be tired and want that seat, but that person with a cane, that person with a wheelchair, that elderly person needs it more. Now don’t get me started on strollers. There are plenty of mom’s out their who can’t afford a car and utilize transit because it is inexpensive and relatively reliable, however, many of these entitled moms use huge strollers that take up the entire accessible seating area. Not only that, but half the time, they take their children out of the contraption because they are being fussy or want to observe their surroundings. I know plenty of moms who use transit as their main source of travel and do not use strollers or fold up their strollers as courtesy to the disabled. You’ll notice signs on the bus that say, “Accessible seating area for seniors and passengers with disabilities,” this does not include entitled stroller moms. Why do people not understand that seniors and people with disabilities need these seats. It is not a want, I need that seat. Otherwise, I might not be able to get out of bed tomorrow, then I don’t get paid, and then I can’t afford my medications, or my tuition for school so that I can further afford to pay for my disability. “Well why don’t you drive?” the answer is simple. I cannot afford to. I work a part-time job that pays only slightly over minimum wage, I pay my tuition out of pocket, and I pay a hefty fee for medications that allow me to be able to work the job that pays for my basic needs and my schooling. Even with medical from my school, my antidepressants still cost me over $200 and that’s only one medication I take.
Please be mindful when you are sitting in the accessible seating area and don’t wait for the person with a disability to ask you to move for them, just be courteous and do it. And if you use a stroller, fold it up, you are required to if someone with a disability comes on the bus. There are also size restrictions on strollers according to my local transit policies. Please be kind and courteous, spread the good karma. These things are there for a reason.
