This Girl is on FIRE!

Hello there sunshine! Welcome to today’s post! 

I’d like to talk about the greatest adventure I’ve ever been privileged enough to have. Working on FIRE has been a journey for me, both physically and mentally. Looking back on it now, it all kind of seems unreal. To be honest, I can’t even believe that I’m the same person I was when this crazy idea to start a sit ski program popped into my head. I’ve discovered a lot about myself throughout this process, grew more than I thought possible, and now I can honestly say that I wouldn’t be the person I am today without FIRE. 

I think the process of discovery began the first time I went skiing. I still don’t really know what made me want to go skiing actually… None of my family are skiers, and at the time I had a strong dislike for anything that had to do with winter. I think it had something to do with the news I received on my spine. I felt the need to do something different. Something that could make me forget my hardships for a while. Something to even make me forget I was disabled. I didn’t think skiing could do all that though… I was happy to be wrong in this case! I came away from my first ski adventure with an indescribable joy. Up there, on top of a mountain, the world seems tiny in comparison. I felt like I could do anything. I felt so free, almost as if I could fly. And I surprised myself through the experience. Things that would usually scare me senseless I ended up being thrilled with. I think this was the first step to discovering something within myself that I didn't know was there. I remember coming home from Kimberley, sitting down at my table, and playing everything over and over again in my mind. And that's when it happened. That little idea popped in my head, which in retrospect was the craziest idea I've ever had to date. This little voice inside me said "I'm going to start a sit ski program in Fernie". It sounded so sure, so certain, so unmovable... Like a mountain... It truly was a mountain, and from where I was sitting at the bottom, it seemed monumental, and slightly impossible. The thing is, when something appears to be impossible, my mind ends up saying "challenge accepted"... Sometimes without my consent... With that, I took out a pencil and paper, said a quick prayer, and got to work. 

I found it amusing going through my old blog posts and reading about my journey of creating FIRE. My 15 and 16 year old self was very ambitious, very positive, and at times a wee bit dramatic. I don't think it even crossed my mind that there weren't many teens my age striving to tackle the same challenges as I was. In my mind, this program that I dreamed of was always going to happen, come hell or high water. Nothing is impossible for a driven youth with vision. My previous posts show me working through whatever challenge presented itself, whether it was choosing a name for the program (can you believe I was actually considering FARDS: Fernie Alpine Resort Disabled Skiers!? What was wrong with me!?), filling out all the paperwork to become a society (which I hated with a passion apparently...), or raising funds for our very first sit skis. I'll never forget the very first meeting we had as an official society. Having never been the president of anything before, I was completely a blank slate, and ended up calling the meeting to order by triumphantly declaring, "I command this meeting to be opened... Yay!". At the time I couldn't figure out why the other members were laughing so hard, but now I find it just as hilarious as they did. I remember saying in one of my posts that I felt intimidated by all the adults on my board, but I had unending enthusiasm to bring to the table, and that counts for something! Those moments began to gradually shape me, and the knowledge I have gained from them will stay with me forever. 

My favourite post by far is when I describe the very first day of FIRE, on January 20th 2013. I felt proud, excited, relieved, optimistic, and a little stunned all at once. I said that we were finally free to ski, and that the program would be the key to many more possibilities. You can tell that I truly loved the program, and I hope that still shows today. The first day of the program was a victory. It was the climax of everything we had been working towards. It was the spark, which ignited the flame. 

What the program is today truly amazes me. In the four years we've been in operation, the program has doubled in size, and continues to show signs of growth everyday. We started with two sit skis, we now have four. We had five students, today we have twelve. Nine instructors multiplied to twenty two! Statistically the growth we've been through has been unbelievable! I attribute the success of the program mostly to prayer. Whenever I was stressed about something, my Mother would always say, "Grace, have you prayed about that?" or "Grace, you need to let go and let God take care of that.". It was a hard lesson for me to learn, but God's hand on the program and its development has been very obvious to me as the years go by. Funnily enough, this season I prayed (half jokingly) that God would make it snow every weekend so we'd have better conditions at the end of our year. I'm being completely serious when I say that it snowed almost every weekend like clockwork... Thank God! 

I'm not sure if I'll be able to put into words just how much FIRE has meant to me throughout the years. I've been through hardships, frustration, stress, and times when I wondered why on earth I decided to take this on. I still feel that way sometimes actually... But then I go up to the hill every Sunday, sometimes to ski and sometimes just to make sure everyone gets off safely, and all it takes is for me to see the smiles on everyone's faces... Instantly, the whole ordeal of getting FIRE started becomes worth it. The positive atmosphere during lesson times is so real, it's almost tangible. The most rewarding part of my job is watching the lives of our team being changed. I couldn't be more thankful for what FIRE has done in my life as well. The list of skills that I gained through this experience are unending, but most importantly is what FIRE has done for my character. I've gain confidence and strength, two things that I never thought I'd have. I've learned what's important in life and how to fight for it. I could go on and on explaining what FIRE has done for me, but I'd say this post is long enough as it is... 

Truly, the best thing about FIRE, in my opinion at least, is this... It wasn't one single person who made FIRE possible. It was a lot of people with the same flame on the inside, who got together, and made a difference. There was a need, and everyone pulled together to fill it. It's truly amazing what can happen when we work together. I want to thank each and every person who helped to make FIRE what it is today. The flame has been kindled, and will continue to burn for many more years to come. 

Stay tuned for more posts on my ski adventures, coming soon... :) 

An Ode to My Mother

Hello there Sunshine! Welcome to today's post, and Happy Mother's Day!

I am going to take a break from my reminiscences of the past year to talk about someone very special. Without this certain someone I would not be the person I am today. This is an "ode", or really just a thank you, to my Mother.

You see, when you're the mother of a child with a disability, life is very different compared to most. I don't think most people realize just how different it is. For starters, to expect that at any moment the doctors will let you hold your new baby girl, only to discover that she needs to be flown off to another hospital for immediate medical attention. To make the long trip by ambulance, wondering what was wrong with your little girl. To arrive at the hospital, only to see that your baby is hooked up to all these tubes and wires, with a medical team buzzing around her. To be told that she wouldn't survive past three weeks. To be asked if you wanted to just walk away while you still had the chance. To discover that your daughter had a condition that would challenge her the rest of her days. To wonder what her life would be like, and wonder what yours would be like too. This was only the beginning for my Mother.

She had to think of ways to explain why I couldn't do certain things, why I looked the way I did, why other kids were different from me. She had to wipe my tears when I was made fun of, or when I felt left out because I couldn't do something, or when I wondered why I was created this way. She was there to help me through the times when I was afraid. Afraid of the doctors, afraid of the tests, afraid of the scans, afraid of the word surgery. She had to make the painful decision of accepting a surgery that would allow me to sit in a wheelchair. Enduring those terrible times after surgery, when I screamed for three days straight. Those sleepless nights back at home because of the casts. The feeling of relief when they were removed, only to be reminded of the experience again because of the scars left on my body. And just when she thought it was over, the doctors suggested more surgeries, which left her asking "is it worth putting her through that?".

She was the one to encourage me not to be a victim. She taught me never to feel sorry for myself, to always look on the positive side, and to try new things. She was there for my victories, both large and small, like playing the piano, or teaching myself to write with a pencil. She accompanied me on many adventures, such as the Paralympics, and my trip to Ottawa to speak to the Senate. She was the first to tell me I could do something, even when I didn't think so at the time. When I'd do something that I thought was daring (but admittedly stupid), like launching my wheelchair off jumps at the skateboard park, or pulling my cousin behind me on rollerblades, she would be there shaking her head or giving me what I like to call the "death glare".

She continually fought for my rights to equality, especially through my high school years. The stress she went through to make sure I was treated the way I should was unimaginable. She spent hours on the phone, writing letters, and having meetings. She had to deal with the frustration and heart-ache of seeing me come home everyday in tears. She had to make the decision to pull me out of high school. In the many hours that I spent alone because of my online school studies, she would always make sure she spent time with me, whether in walking, reading, or just talking. When I wondered why I couldn't make friends, she'd be there to soothe me, or tell me that Jesus was my friend.

In my teen years, she dealt with both the normal and the not so normal. When I went through the stages of being insecure because of acne, she was the one to research and try every product that offered a solution. When I would just randomly burst into tears because I was PMSing, she would be there to listen to my ridiculous reasons why, and hug me while suppressing her laughter. "He said I love you Gracie in that movie Mom! WHEN WILL SOMEONE SAY THAT TO ME!!!???"
She endures my morning grumps... The least said about that the better... When my life took a surprising and painful turn in discovering the true condition of my spine, hearing what the surgery would help with and what it would take away, and enduring the knowledge of what would happen if I refused, she was there. She supported my decision to refuse the surgery, and the hardships I've been through because of it.

When I said I wanted to start my own sit ski society... Well, if she thought it was a bad idea, she never let on... She celebrated with me when plans fell in place, and dealt with my outbursts of tears when something didn't work out. When I would ask her why I was trying to do this, or when I declared I was in WAY over my head, she would always remind me to trust in God. Today she watches myself and the other students in Fernie Adaptive ski our beautiful mountains, and she says because of that she is very proud. I have dragged her with me for many of my crazy ideas, and she has supported my every whim.

To conclude... For your strength. For your perseverance. For your hope. For your faith. For your encouragement. For your scolding. For your sacrifice. For your endurance. For your friendship. For your guidance. Your teaching, your smiles, and even your death glare. For your love, and for your prayers that helped me through my hardships. For everything that I am and everything I will be. And for the many other fors... Thank you Mom!

Grace the Brace Face...

Hello there sunshine!

You didn't think I meant it did you? Well I did, you of little faith! And there shall be more posts to come...

Probably the most drastic change I've gone through over the last year is getting braces... Does that sound weird? Oh well... 

Yes, I finally bit the bullet (that's supposed to be a metaphor, but it does look like I've bitten a bullet... A metal bullet... That stuck to my teeth...), and decided to get braces last summer. I've waited so long for two reasons. One, braces are freaking expensive people! I knew they would be, but wow... I had better have one dazzling smile by the end of this... And two, I needed to be ready for it... That sounds ridiculous, but unfortunately because of certain experiences I've had before, I am extremely sensitive and slightly terrified of pain. I quite honestly can't separate little pain from huge pain in my head, and so it takes me quite a while to prepare myself when I know something might hurt. I've gotten a lot better at handling it throughout the years, but it's definitely not gone yet. Anyways... A big factor that made me get my braces last summer was the fact that I lose my dad's dental plan when I turn 21. So basically it was now or never... 

I'd say the most tedious part of the whole process was finding a dentist, and comparing prices. I went through four different dental assessments before I decided on my dentist, including a visit to an Orthodontist. Yeah... His price was double what you'd normally pay... It costs $3000 more for the word orthodontist... I chose a dentist whose office is 20 minutes out of town, but he happened to be the least expensive, and he actually told me the truth about my teeth... He's a perfectionist and hardly says two words to me, but he has done a very thorough job, and I'm very pleased. 

So here was my first challenge, which I fully admit to being a mental one... I had to have two teeth extracted before I could begin the braces process. I have never had a cavity, and therefore never had a needle, and so the whole tooth pulling thing was extremely dramatized in my mind... I pictured the dentist walking in, pulling his gloves on while he gave a maniacal laugh, and then coming at me with a pointy thing he intents to stab my mouth with. Blood, guts, and gore, that's what I was thinking. I had nightmares the whole night before. I don't want to give you the wrong impression though... I am a mature adult, with full control over my emotions... Which is why I cried as soon as my dentist walked in the room.... I even made the assistant cry with me... I'm not giving myself enough credit though, because while I did cry, I handled it much much better than I would have in years past. And I can now say this with confidence... Needles in the mouth are no big deal! Really! And I had five of them! The ones in the pallet are a little uncomfortable, but the whole experience definitely wasn't as bad as I would've thought. It's the healing process that was terrible... After not eating for two days, and therefore having nothing in my stomach but painkillers, I became violently sick for ten hours straight on the third day... Joy... 

That being done, about three weeks later, I went in to get my braces put on. I did really well... Until she put the wire on... And then I cried... I'm not joking when I say it was so painful that the whole drive home I was yelling at my mother to "TURN THIS DARN VEHICLE AROUND AND GO BACK! I'M NOT KIDDING, I WANT THEM OFF!!!" Drama queen still holds her title... Besides the pain, they feel huge at first! I kind of felt like a horse... Or a cow... Heck, both at once... The worst part was that I had to do an annual general meeting for FIRE an hour afterwards, which was ridiculous and embarrassing... I was spitting uncontrollably while I talked, and I sounded something like this, "Tho, would the thecretary pleathe read the minuteth to the memberth? And would the treathurer pleathe give uth a financial thatement?" And, for the second time that month, because of not being able to eat and being under the influence... Of painkillers... I spent day two being violently sick for another 12 hours... Afterwards, I became extremely dehydrated, to the point where it looked like someone had taken dark brown eyeshadow and painted it around my eyes. I just narrowly escaped a kidney infection as well, and finally clued into the fact that I can't use Advil anymore. Yeah, so that was fun. Because I can't go through braces like a normal human... 

I'd have to say that the first four or five appointments were the worst, but after that it became easier and easier. I eventually stopped crying at my appointments, which is one more step to adulthood... One small leap for man, one less tear for Grace... Now I will admit that for the first few months I avoided the camera like the plague. Everyone said braces made me look cute, and I'm sorry guys... You lied... But when my teeth finally started to straighten out to the point of being presentable, I was surprised at how much I wanted to smile. It has been years since I've been comfortable enough to smile with my teeth, and it feels amazing. 

But I think through this experience I learned something about myself... I am strong, much stronger than I give myself credit for. I can go through pain, and I can conquer my fears. I have a problem with being too hard on myself, so it has taken a while for me to admit to this... I think I may have taken a step, or many steps, to conquering one of my greatest fears. I just never thought it would happen by getting braces... Life is strange that way... God was, and still is, the reason I can say all that... 

My dentist didn't let me know how long I'd be a metal mouth, and up until this point I've been ok with that... I don't want to know how long the torture will last... But on my last appointment I worked up the courage to ask. He said, "You'll be a metal mouth for the rest of your life! Good luck finding a husband! Your dad will never get that truck and trailer as a dowry from your marriage! Better get used to the idea of being a spinster! BWUAHAHA!!!" No, he didn't say that... He said four more months, which means I'll have them off by the end of the summer! Best. News. Ever. 

In conclusion, I am happy that I did this. Worth every tear... Dramatic or no... But if you want to know what having braces is really like, do yourself a favour and go ask a normal human being... :) 

Learning Life

Hello... It's me... I was wondering if after all these years you'd like to meet... To go over, everything... Ok, enough of that!

Yes it's me! Remember? The one who started this blog, and does a horrible job at updating it? That's me... The last time I posted was 14 months ago... Eh hem... 

There will be quite a bit for me to talk about, but I'll do it over a few posts. I think I'll start off with the most important thing that has happened to me... Becoming an "adult"... 

I say "adult", because I never felt like one when the time came, and I still don't to this day, even if I will be 20 next month. What does it mean to be an adult anyways? Perhaps because I'm asking that question it just proves that I'm not one... Anyways! 

Becoming an adult has changed my world quite a bit actually. Maybe more than I wanted it to. I've been through quite the journey, of good, and a fair bit of bad as well. But here's something I've come to realize, and you can judge whether or not this makes me "adult" worthy... If I didn't have challenges, I would never grow. I've learned that sometimes the things I didn't want to happen ended up teaching me more than the things I've planned. I've also learned that when facing challenges, I have a choice to make. I can choose to let the challenge overcome me, or I can choose to overcome the challenge. This is part and parcel of having a disability and certainly isn't new to me, but it has become more real to me in the almost two years of "adulthood". Challenges can come in many different forms, and they can be physical, mental, or both. Turning 18 was a lot of both for me. My coming of age meant that I would lose more than half of the coverage and support from the government that I received as a child. Trying to live my life with the new lack of support has been extremely difficult. I still require the same types of medical equipment (which is ridiculously expensive by the way... Just to give you an idea, my new wheelchair cost $38,000), I still need therapy every week to manage pain and be able to function, and I am still required to see a seating specialist to help with my very complex seating system for my wheelchair. All of this has become so much more stressful ever since I lost my full coverage and has definitely provided me with a challenge, one that I believe is shameful and unnecessary if I'm being honest. I won't say that all the mental challenges I've been through were negative, because I believe they've helped me become more mature and given me many more useful tools. Most of this resulted from my work with FIRE, which I will be posting about later. My journey with FIRE has been one of constant learning, and most of it has been life changing and extremely rewarding. I don't think I'd be the person I am today without God, my mother, and FIRE... 

So... We have a lot of catching up to do! And we shall... Soon, very soon... Stay tuned! 

Keeping the Machine Running: My Therapists!

Hi everyone! I thought it was about time to do another post! I’m going to do something a bit different this time. 

In living life with a disability, we get support from many people. They make living life a little easier. They work behind the scenes, making sure our bodies stay healthy, and as mobile as possible. I am referring to our therapists. I want to talk about my therapists, and how they have helped me through the years. 

About four years ago, I discovered the wonderful sport of sit skiing. While I loved the feeling of zooming down the hill at light speed, doing as many daring jumps as possible, what I didn’t love was the effect it had on my body. As I flew down the hill, my head would bobble around uncontrollably, especially when the snow was hard and bumpy. After doing one too many high speed bumps and jumps, my neck had finally had enough. I woke up the next morning feeling like my head was resting on a metal spike… Ouch! I tried to treat it on my own, with heat and rest, but by the end of the day it became apparent that I needed help. I had been to the Chiropractor before, but had been in good shape for quite some time, so I stopped going for about a year. I decided to try a different Chiropractor in town, and after hearing some reviews, I chose Paul Attalla. Meeting a new therapist always makes me very nervous, wondering how they would react and treat me. Meeting my physical needs is kind of a monumental task, and tends to make people nervous… When Paul entered the room, I knew I was going to like him. He’s the bubbly, smiley kind of person I get along with. He did seem a bit nervous at first, which put me on edge a little. He was very gentle, a little too gentle I thought, but that’s something I’m used to. People tend to think I’m fragile because of my physical appearance. What I did really appreciate is that Paul didn’t treat me as just a “customer”. I immediately felt that he actually cared about my physical health, and that he wanted me to improve so I didn’t have to keep seeing him. He even went over my appointment time to be sure he was thorough. I went home with mixed feelings on the experience, but with that glimmer of hope, I decided to stick it out. I thought that maybe he just needed to get to know me first, and then he’d figure out that I am an independent thinker, and am able to speak for myself. The next time I went in, Paul seemed more relaxed, and he looked to me to answer his questions, and not my Mom. Each time I went, the more it improved. I’ve been seeing Paul on and off for three years, and without a doubt, he is the best therapist I have ever had. I can also say that besides prayer, he played a huge part in helping me survive the difficult high school years. He has seen me at my worst, literally in tears, and has helped me be my best. Whenever I feel upset or anxious over my physical condition, I feel that he genuinely cares and is concerned. I always laugh thinking of my first appointment. He went from being too gentle, to saying, “Grace, this will hurt, but I’m doing what I do for everyone else.” Currently, I have been going through the worst physical issues I have ever been through, but with Paul’s help, I am on the road to recovery. I am so thankful that God has brought Paul into my life, and I pray that God will bless him as much as he has blessed me! You are the absolute best Paul! What you do has had such an impact on my life, and I think you should know that! Thank you, from the bottom of my heart!!!

I love my work with FIRE: Fernie Adaptive, but sometimes it takes its toll on my body as well. I can only use my right arm to do daily activities, as well as writing the many emails I must write for FIRE. When the program planning began in September, I became more involved, as I had finished school and could devote more time to it. After writing literally hundreds of emails, which is what it takes to plan for a new season, my arm decided it was most inconveniently going to tire out… Every time I went to write, my arm would go completely limp. It would also tingle, especially in my fingers. In January, I unfortunately re-injured my neck, and had to see Paul again after about five months. When I described these symptoms, and had a melt down with tears, he immediately suggested I see my doctor. I don’t really like doctors, and haven’t had an appointment for five years, but this one was pretty painless. I was diagnosed with tendonitis in my shoulder and elbow, and carpal tunnel in my wrist. I was then sent to a Physiotherapist. The old nervousness kicked in, meeting another therapist, but Paul suggested one he thought would work well with me, which made me feel better. Shawn is similar to Paul, in that he is very smiley and fun. He welcomed me with a warm smile, and made me feel at ease. When we sat down, I immediately told him that despite what people think, I will not fall to pieces when touched. Whatever he had to do to make me improve, even if it would leave me sore, I wanted him to do. I was very impressed with how he acted around me, and how he worked with me like he would his other patients. In fact, my first treatment lasted two hours, because Shawn was being thorough. It’s been a journey for both of us, as we are both learning about my body, and how it responds to treatment. We’ve made plans, found out quickly that it won’t work, and adjusted accordingly. We learned that my body is very strange, to say the least, and often leaves us puzzled... (By the way, I’m not supposed to be typing or using my arm right now, so don’t tell Shawn… Shhhh…) I can easily see my relationship with Shawn turning out like my relationship with Paul, and am very thankful to have Shawn in my life. 

I feel so blessed that God has brought these two people into my life, and I know that He has a plan in all of this. I know that I will never forget the wonderful support of my therapists, Paul and Sean! For all that you do, you are not forgotten. You are amazing! Thank you!

Don't give me money!

Hi everyone!

Something interesting happened to me today, and as I was expressing my feelings on it to my Mother, she smiled and said, "You should write in your blog about it!" And so I shall!

Today I spent the day with my best friend, Kate, for her 20th birthday. By the way, in February it will be our 9th "Friendiversary"! I can't believe we've known each other that long without killing each other... We should get a trophy or something...

Anyways, we went to Boston Pizza for lunch, as we HAD to get our signature Tropical Chicken Pizza. While we were enjoying our meal, an older man walked up to me, handed me $20 and said, "I think you are a brave woman." I've been in these situations before, and yet I'm still not entirely sure how to react. This happened to me in the grocery store once, and I ended up arguing with the guy, telling him that I was thankful, but I wanted him to take his money. In this instance, I decided not to argue, as the man was already half way out the door, so I said thank you very much. I sat there, staring at the money in front of me, wondering how I should feel about it. I never know how to feel about this certain issue. However, as I thought about it during lunch and then on the way home, these two things came to mind.

I always feel horrible about people giving me money. Some people might think it's awesome, in fact most of my friends thought that when I was young, but it almost makes me feel ashamed. I think it's odd, giving someone money because they think they are brave. I think that just the compliment would have been enough. Now don't misunderstand me, I am very grateful to those people, and I pray that God will bless them. But I always think, what is it about me that makes people want to do that? It certainly isn't just because I smile a lot, and like to laugh. I think it's my wheelchair, or the way I look, which might cause them to want to "satisfy their conscience". This is probably what makes me the most upset. I do not want to be pitied. I don't need to be pitied. My physical appearance is probably my worst enemy, because it causes me to be misunderstood and judged. I just want everyone to treat me like a human being. We are all flesh and blood, so why can't we all treat each other the same? If you receive a gift, and you judge it only by how it's wrapped, and never open it, how will you ever find out what's on the inside? People are the same way. How will you ever find out what a wonderful gift they really are, if you can't get past the outside wrapping? It's a shame. And yes, I have restrictions, but so does everyone else. We all have things that hold us back in life, or cause life to be difficult. I wish that people could look past those restrictions, and see how wonderful life really is. It's not about how hard it is, it's not about the nasty blows that it has dealt, it's about being thankful to even be living. It may be hard here, but we're here aren't we? Shouldn't we consider every breath we take as a blessing? I'm going on a rant here... I don't want people assuming that because I'm disabled, I am financially unable to support myself. I would rather have people put that money to good use, and give it to someone who needs it. By the way, I ended up putting the money up for grabs, as I didn't feel right in taking it. Some people will and have disagreed with me, but unless you step into my shoes, or socks... you won't be able to understand.

I also don't like being called brave. Again, I was thankful that he said it, but that's not what I am. I am not brave, by the definition of the word, because I manage to get out of bed in the morning, and remember my own name. I am not brave because I decide to have a good attitude towards life, and not lie in bed all day thinking about how terrible my life is. I am simply making the right decisions. Do you know what I consider brave? Someone giving their life for someone else. In fact, the dictionary defines brave as "ready to face danger or pain." Am I brave? Uh no... I can't even get my ears pierced without crying... I would have preferred it if this man would have said that I was joyful, or that he enjoyed seeing me smile, or something more appropriate. I am not extraordinary, because I live with a disability. I don't deserve any awards, and I should not be considered brave. I do what everyone else does: I live.

Now I know that a lot of you will disagree with the two points I made, but as I said, once you step into my shoes, then you can tell me I'm wrong. I still don't know how I'll deal with this situation in the future, but I sincerely hope that people will put more thought into it before they do it.

"That thing is a wheelchair."

Have you ever been referred to as "that" or as a "thing"? I bet you haven't. It really shouldn't be a common occurrence for anyone, but unfortunately it's something I am very familiar with.
I was in a store just the other day, when a child walked past me and said, "What's that thing?" Now, I don't mind when children ask me questions because I would rather have them know than not. What really bothers me is the way the parents respond. On this particular instance, the mother said, "That thing is a wheelchair." I am quite accustomed to this sort of response, but for some reason this time it bothered me. Why should I be accustomed to being referred to as a "thing"? What does that teach the child? It teaches them to see the wheelchair first, then the body, if they can even get past the wheelchair.
This is the way I'm treated constantly by people, in fact, it has been happening my whole life. I constantly feel like no one is seeing the real me, because the chair speaks louder than words. I suppose I notice it more now because I'm an adult and I desire to be treated as one. Instead, I get people treating me like I don't have a mind of my own. To be honest, whenever I meet someone for the first time, I always think, "Is this person going to act normally around me, or are they going to treat me like I'm mentally handicapped." It's like I can feel when someone thinks I'm mentally handicapped, and then unfortunately, I feel embarrassed and I start to act differently. I'm being very frank because I think it's sad. It's sad to be treated differently because you look different. In my opinion, beauty is from the inside out. But that's not the way the world thinks. Simply put, if you have normal conversations with other people, then why can't you have one with me? You wouldn't walk up to a friend, get right in their personal space, and start talking to them like they're deaf. So why do it to me. You wouldn't choose to ask questions about you friend, to your friend's mother, if your friend was standing right in front of you. So why do it to me? You wouldn't refer to your friend as a "thing". Why do that to me? I wish more people would think about this. Why am I any different than you because I'm in a wheelchair?
So parents, I just want to give a quick suggestion. You just have to change your response slightly. Say, "There's a woman in a wheelchair." Acknowledge the human being first. See, not that hard! I can't change the way the world sees me, but you can, and it starts with you! As Willy Wonka says, "Anything you want to, do it. Want to change the world, there's nothing to it."