Stop Touching My Butt

Recently I was taking a training class for work in a building that was new to me. I was walking down the hall and this person comes up behind me and it happened. Out of nowwhere when I was least expecting it. Someone started pushing my wheelchair from behind. My heart begins to race I'm in panic mode. “Please stop.”

The response I receive is “Just put your arms up it's fine I am going to help you. I don't mind.”

“No thank you I prefer to push myself stop now.” My anxiety kicks in as this not so helpful person does not stop and does not slow down. Why is she not heeding my words. Why is this happening. “Stop now right now.” I grip the wheels tighter throwing all my strength into the effort. The wheel rims burn into my hands and I feel a shooting pain in my wrists. My body is thrown slightly forward, but luckily I don't fall out of my chair. I sit still for a few seconds trying to gather myself. “I can push myself thank you.”

“You should let me help you your arms must be tired.” At this point I am getting annoyed, and I am trying my hardest to keep my composure and my tone light. In my head I'm thinking do your legs get tired when you walk?

“My arms are not tired and I prefer to push myself. Please leave me alone.” I say.

“You don't have to get so upset about it I am just trying to help you. You should take help when it is offered to you.” She huffs away. It takes me several minutes to calm myself from the experience and for the rest of the day I vacillate from anger and fear. First why am I at fault here? I am just rolling through the office and you took it upon yourself to “help” despite me saying very nicely no thank you. What if you were walking along and I just came up behind you and picked you up and started carrying you. Wouldn't you object to that?

Why?

Would it be because I had violated your space? Because I took away your right to choose? Because I assumed something that you may not have wanted? EXACTLY!

I have said this before, my chair is a part of my body. No different to me then my arm, my foot or my butt. When someone grabs my chair without my permission and tries to push me it is like being violated. It is like you are touching my butt. You would not want someone you don't know to touch your butt and I don't either.

I know you are just trying to help but your help is more harmful than you know. It makes me feel unsafe and makes me angry. Why are my rights and wishes not as important as yours? Imagine for just a moment you were at a bar just standing there enjoying your drink or time with friends and a perfect stranger comes up and smacks your butt. You would be outraged and you would probably file some sort of complaint right?

This is the same for me and I wish abled people would stop doing it. Please stop touching my butt.

Are you Angry at God?

I get asked a lot of questions by well-meaning people who want to learn more about disability.  Most of the time I have no problem answering them because I would rather you know then not know.

I am often asked the following: Are you angry at God for your disability?  This question in my mind assumes that I have something to be angry about.  It further goes back to some people's perception that having a disability is more challenging when you compare it to not having a disability and as such I would be angry that I was given something that another person was not.  I suppose that I was given something that other people were not, but I don't see it as a negative.

For a long time the only images of disability I saw on TV or movies was of the angry person.  It makes a more engaging story.  Something that abled people can easily digest, the image of the angry guy/girl in wheelchair who is in some tragic accident.  They are so mad that their life was changed and they make some miraculous recovery or after finding the love of their life they come to change their attitude about their disability.  Like many stories this is just that a story, and may have happened to one person once, but is not close to the reality of life.

That is not to say I don't get angry ever.  I get very angry when people call me "speedy" or "wheels," but that is a post for another day.  I get angry when there is no accessible parking in the parking lot, or when I have to wait forever for an accessible stall and I really have to go.  I swore last week when I was trying to open the door to my apartment building and it was so heavy that it took me three tries to get through.  However, those situations have nothing to do with God.  They have to do with the world around me and the barriers that come with having a disability in the United States.  

Do I sometimes wish my situation was different? Of course!  Again nothing to do with God or my disability.  I wish people were more caring.  I wish people thought more about how their actions impacted others.  I wish people were more accepting. I also wish Luke Bryant was single and interested in dating me. 

My life verse is Daniel 7:9 :“As I looked, “thrones were set in place, and the Ancient of Days took his seat. His clothing was as white as snow; the hair of his head was white like wool. His throne was flaming with fire, and its wheels were all ablaze." (Bible Gateway)

 I read this to mean that God has a wheelchair and probably the coolest one ever made.  (How cool would it be to have a wheelchair that fire came out of?  No one would mess with you then.) Now before you start writing me angry comments, I know this is not what this verse was intended to say.  I would argue that God has a plan for everyone and has thought about all of the ways and content that he will use  to shape us.  Jeremiah 29:11 tells us he knows us and how our life is going to go.

11 For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future (Bible Gateway)

So I have to believe that he put this verse and this inspiration in my path for me to come to a deeper meaning for myself and I don't believe that diminishes the true meaning of the verse but in fact enhances it  If God's plan is not to harm me but to give me hope for the future why would I be angry at a curve that he sent me?  I get to be truly unique and unforgettable in a way that no one else is.

I have to reason that God's plan to give me my disability was part of a plan.   That it has the greater purpose then the minor irritations the world presents to me.  Maybe my purpose is to be a voice for those who cannot speak or to educate those without a disability on what life is like with one.  Perhaps I will not know until I meet the Lord in person.  I may never know and that is alright with me because my life is happy and full.  I am not angry I am blessed.