The Disability Invisibility (Part 2)

*I had aimed for this to follow up Part 1 within a month, however moving house, writing off my car and being without a computer for nearly 4 weeks has led to some unforeseen delays for which I can only apologise!

But without further ado, it's time for Part 2! 

From Bathrooms To Bays

In my previous blog entry I wrote all about disabled bathrooms, the new signs that were beginning to appear outside them, and the positive and negative effects these could have on disabled users. Some of the feedback I received on the entry was from people who had found that these new signs, although designed to highlight the varying nature of disabilities, were instead confusing people and leading them to believe that the bathroom was for use by anyone, disabled or otherwise. This isn't something I had considered at the time of writing, but it's a legitimate point and certainly one worth adding to the argument and mentioning here. It goes to show just how tricky it can be to put across a point (in this case that 'not every disability is visible') without diluting that point and leading to even more confusion.

In this second part of The Disability Invisibility, I'm switching my attention from bathrooms to parking bays as I take a look at who should and shouldn't be using the disabled bays, the issues and frustrations that come with needing to park in one of these bays, and what, if anything, needs to change...

When you take things a little too literally!

 

Bay-Watch

I was driving for a little over 5 years before I had the accident in which I broke my neck. And in those 5 years I can honestly say that I never once parked in a disabled bay. I mean, why would I?! I didn't need the extra space to fully open my door when getting out, if I was in a rush to get somewhere then I could simply walk faster, and it's not as though every other parking bay was located in a field, a 2 mile hike from my destination!

Since my injury however, disabled parking bays have naturally become a lot more relevant in my life. Now, as a full time wheelchair user, if I go out in the car and am unable to a find a suitable space to park in, then I'm really only left with 3 options: a) Pull over, get the binoculars out and stakeout the disabled bays until one becomes free, much to the annoyance of every other driver who now has to manoeuvre around me, b) Begin a monotonous 2mph circuit of the car park, instantly revving into fast and furious mode the minute someone approaches a car parked in one of the disabled bays, or c) Let out a few colourful words, turn around and go home. Because if I can't park somewhere that allows me enough room to get my wheelchair out, then I physically can't get out of the car, it's as simple as that.

During my younger, more hot-headed years, I had a number of verbal altercations over parking bays, and was met with a variety of different reactions and excuses; from apologetic and defusing, to sarcastic and antagonising. But one always sticks in my mind: As a woman exited a sports centre/gym with her two children either side of her and made her way to her car, I rolled down my window and asked, "Excuse me, but do you know you're parked in a disabled bay?", to which she replied, "'Ere, I've got two kids mate!" My initial thought was, "Well if you consider your children a disability upon yourself, then maybe you should've thought more before having them!" However this thought, probably wisely, stayed in my head and I instead chose to scold her with a rather tame, "Well that's no excuse for being a lazy #?!*$ so-and-so!"

Yes, I think it's safe to say that since my injury, nothing has caused exasperation and expletives quite like the disabled parking bay fiasco!

Saying what we've all thought before, albeit in a much politer way!

 

To Park Or Not To Park...

As a general rule of thumb, if you are ever driving around, see an empty disabled bay and wonder, "Should I park in that bay?", this can be answered by following this very handy guide: Simply ask yourself the question, "Do I have a disability or impairment which severely affects my mobility?" If the answer to the question is "yes", then the space is all yours. If however, the answer is "no"/"I'm not sure"/"well I did stub my toe getting out of the bath this morning...", then those parking bays are not applicable to you I'm afraid and you'll have to slum it with the common man in one of the many, many, *deep breath* many regular bays on offer. Honestly, you wouldn't believe the number of times I've gone to the gym of all places and found that all the disabled bays have been take up by regular gym goers who must simply see the yellow spaces in front of them as they pull into the car park and lock onto them like homing missiles. The irony is that they're not even the closest parking spaces!

The clue is in the name: Disabled Bay. Not, I'll Just Be 2 Minutes Bay. Not, I'm Picking Up My Kids Bay. Not, There Was Nowhere Else To Park Bay. And most certainly not, Luxury Bay For Lazy Baes (I'll get my coat)!

 

Now I know what you're thinking, that an even simpler question to ask would be, "Do I have a blue disabled parking badge?" And you're right, that would be a more straight forward way of testing, but one however, which comes with a more complicated answer. For example, I'm fairly sure that I'm not the only one who has seen someone pull into a disabled bay and pop a blue badge onto the dash, before hopping out and casually strolling off. And I'm definitely not the only person who, after seeing this, has thought to themselves, "Well someone's taking advantage of grandma's parking privileges!" No, unfortunately policing blue badges and disabled bays is an absolute minefield and challenging a person who is parked in a disabled bay can put you in a rather sticky situation, as more and more people seem to have blue badges now and being able to tell apart those who have genuine mobility issues from those who don't is becoming increasingly tricky...

The Invisible Disability Strikes Again!

To quote my previous entry, "there are a countless number of disabilities that exist beneath the surface, affecting millions of people and giving them just as much right to use the disabled facilities as someone in a wheelchair". This statement was true for disabled bathrooms and it's equally as true for disabled parking bays. In fact, when you think about it, the mantra of, not every disability is visible, is even more applicable here as I would imagine there are even more people who have the right to claim a disabled parking bay than use a disabled bathroom. Having a weak heart, shortness of breath, chronic fatigue syndrome, those who experience pain, those who have psychological/behavioural problems, the elderly; most of these people wouldn't necessarily need to use a disabled bathroom, but all are eligible to at least apply for a disabled parking badge, and rightly so. If you have an issue that affects your mobility or limits how far you can travel on foot, where parking that little bit closer or having a little extra room to get out would make life that much easier, then you have every right to do that. Once again, the issue comes down to being one of honesty but also one of obtainability.

Lest we forget

It's definitely much easier to police who uses a disabled parking bay than who uses a disabled bathroom, as you at least need to display a badge in your windscreen when parked in a disabled bay, or risk getting the dreaded parking fine! However, if your vehicle has a disabled badge belonging to a friend or relative then essentially all you'd need to do is pop it on the dashboard, instantly giving you carte blanche to park in any space you wanted, without fear of repercussions. And if anyone were to query it then you could just hide behind the near impenetrable invisible disability shield! Short of making a citizens arrest and demanding to see the photo ID on the back of the badge, there's not an awful lot else a person could do after that, no matter how able-bodied a person may appear. Yes, a disabled badge is a wonderful weapon to have at your disposal, especially if (as is often the case) badge holders park for free!

A Two-Tiered Overhaul

So what, if anything, should change? Personally I believe that, as far as disabled parking bays are concerned, the biggest issue is that of obtainability; there are simply not enough of them to cater for the near 3 million blue badge holders in the UK. This is especially problematic if you are a wheelchair user who absolutely needs a larger space in order to get your wheelchair out. Sure, it would help if there were more disabled bays available, and in a perfect world there would be enough spaces to cater for everyone; but this is not a perfect world and the Mega Car Park: Space For Everyone solution is neither practical nor realistic.

No, instead I would suggest an overhaul of the blue badge system; splitting it into two tiers: One for those who require larger spaces for wheelchairs or walking frames, and one for those who can walk largely unaided but require proximity parking. From what I have seen, it seems to be a relatively small percentage of blue badge holders that require wheelchairs or walking frames to mobilise. I would therefore leave the majority of disabled spaces as they are, but set aside a handful of spaces in each car park specifically for those who have the 'top tier' blue badges, meaning they require larger spaces for wheelchairs etc, and making them distinct from the 'regular' disabled bays. They wouldn't even necessarily have to be right at the front, just as long as they were big enough for a person to open their door fully and assemble their chair.

I don't mean to come across all Animal Farm and imply that all disabled people are equal but some are more equal than others; this is purely my personal idea and opinion, and I'm sure there will be numerous flaws in what I've just suggested. Maybe I'm being selfish and looking at it purely from a wheelchair user's perspective, I'm just trying to come up with what I think would be the most practical solution. And I do believe there needs to be a change.

But what do you guys think? Feel free to let me know if you agree or disagree and whether you have a solution you think would work better. 

As always, thanks for reading!

G

The Disability Invisibility (Part 1)

Post Easter Intro

Hey guys! I hope everyone had a great Easter and celebrated Jesus' resurrection in the most appropriate way possible - by ploughing through a mountain of hollowed-out, chocolate eggs that were delivered by an omnipotent rabbit! I gave up chocolate for lent this year, but like a recovering addict who's fallen off the wagon, I've been hitting it pretty hard since Easter Sunday.

My mother, the enabler!

I'm determined however to battle through the palpitations and fluctuating energy levels to get this entry written before I pack everything up, move house and then inevitably spend the next 6-12 months staring at the sea of sealed boxes in the spare room, wondering when exactly they'll begin unpacking themselves?! But I digress...

For this latest blog entry I've decided to look at how different disabilities are viewed when it comes to using certain disabled facilities. I'm breaking it up into two parts, with this first part looking at disabled bathrooms, the concept of the 'disabled person' in relation to these bathrooms, and why new signs are starting to be put up outside of them.

Sign of The Times

Last month I read an article that had been posted on the Active Hands Facebook page about the new signs that are beginning to appear on disabled toilets; signs stating that:

I think we can all agree that the message here is fairly self-explanatory: Just because you cannot physically see that someone has a disability, this doesn't mean that they don't have one. It's the age old adage of 'don't judge a book by its cover'. And it's completely true. The outline of a figure in a wheelchair has long been seen as the universal symbol of disability. It's a fairly outdated image that has had the unfortunate side effect of stereotyping every disabled person as a wheelchair user and only a wheelchair user. Sure, if you've got a crutch or severe limp then you'll maybe sneak into the club, but anything less than that and you'll be on the receiving end of tuts and evil eyes as you shamefully emerge from the disabled toilet, a hang-dog look about you. I think most wheelchair users, myself included, at one time or another, will have silently judged or 'cripple-shamed' someone for using what is seen as the 'wheelchair only bathroom'.

"Bloody walkers, coming over here, taking our toilets!"

But as time has gone on I've come to understand that there are a countless number of disabilities that exist beneath the surface, affecting millions of people and giving them just as much right to use the disabled facilities as someone in a wheelchair. Conditions such as ADHD, autism, Crohn's disease, chronic fatigue syndrome and ulcerative colitis all exist beneath the surface, invisible to the naked eye. Even conditions that affect mobility such as multiple sclerosis and cerebral palsy can go by unnoticed in their milder forms. However, this shouldn't deny them the right to use the disabled facilities. Several comments on the article were made by people who had in the past been publicly shamed for using the disabled toilet due to their condition being invisible. No matter how mild or unnoticeable it may be, if you have a condition that would be eased by the use of a larger, more accessible bathroom, then you have a right to use it.

The issue really is one of honesty.

Taking The P: Disabled Bathroom or Convenience Cubicle?

Much of the feedback to the article on the Active Hands Facebook page demonstrated that the major concern most people have with these new signs is that they would encourage more people to abuse the facilities. Proximity, convenience, peace and quiet, needing to go number 2; I'm afraid none of these are acceptable reasons for using the disabled bathroom! It is after all called the disabled bathroom, not the convenience cubicle; and as I once informed a gym employee who thought it was okay to use the room to unleash a devastating chemical attack, "It's not your own, personal s******* chamber!"

You know who you are!

Many people use the accessible bathroom without strictly needing to, this is a fact, and one which is proving increasingly difficult to police. In theory one could argue that by limiting the use of these bathrooms to only people in wheelchairs, you are ensuring that only those who need them most are using them; unless of course a person were to borrow a wheelchair for the sole purpose of gaining access to the disabled bathroom, in which case I can only applaud your determination! But by implimenting this rule you would then be discriminating against all the aforementioned people with invisible conditions, which would be unacceptable.

On the flip side however, by now using signs physically stating that "not every disability is visible", you are opening the door to every man and his dog using these facilities whilst hiding behind the 'invisible disability' mantle. One solution would be to ensure that every disabled bathroom was fitted with a radar lock and key system, so that only those carrying a radar key can gain access. However, this would be dependent on every person with a disability having a radar key on them at all times, otherwise you'll be left crossing your legs for the duration! Personally, I really only take my radar key out with me when I go to pubs, most of which utilise these locks; but even then I've been guilty of forgetting it from time to time.

In Conclusion

The truth of the matter is that, short of installing finger print scanners outside of every bathroom and moving one step closer to a hellish, Orwellian reality, there is no sure fire way of ensuring that only those who need to, get to use the disabled facilities. Instead we must continue to rely on a combination of honesty and guilt. Sure, we could always politely confront the person if we didn't think they should be using a particular bathroom, but if they claim to have an underlying condition then who are we to argue? The most important thing is that those who need to access them, can access them, without being shamed for it. And in that regard, these new signs can surely only be a positive thing?

In Part 2 I'm going to switch my attention to disabled parking bays and the joys/battles that often accompany them. In the meantime however, I shall leave you with a cautionary tale and perfect example of just what can happen if you use the disabled toilet without an appropriate reason...

G

Dealing With My Feelings about Wheeling

12 Years A Slave (To A Wheelchair)

It was my birthday the other week. Not my real birthday you understand, but rather my wheel birthday; the day I lost control of my car, broke my neck and swapped walking for wheeling. I'm always aware of the day when it rolls round, largely due to how soon after New Year it falls. What's changed over the years however, is the way I look upon the day and similarly, the effect the day has upon me.

With that in mind, I thought I'd take a brief foray down memory lane, look back over the years at how my feelings towards that day have changed and what the possible reasons are for this progressive metamorphosis. Of course, everyone is different; I know people who have taken spinal injury completely in their stride and others who are constantly struggling to accept their situation. I didn't make a conscious choice to react to it and move on from it the way I did; and any changes that occurred happened without me even realising. We all react differently to events, we all have our own ways of processing things, and we all move forwards in our own way and at our own pace; this is just my personal experience.

Reality Bites

For the first couple of years, January 3rd felt like a monumental date stamped on the calendar: The Day That Everything Changed. I'd wake up, look at the clock and think to myself, "Had I set off by now? Was I driving? Whereabouts was I by this point?" My mind would begin wandering into thoughts of, "If only there was a way I could go back in time and change things, stop the car from starting that morning; hell, stop me from driving the car up to university in the first place! If only I hadn't had that crash, then all the negatives would be gone and my life would be an eternally blissful euphoria." That's how it works right, no wheechair no cry...

"Me next song I'm gonna sing is called 'Get Up, Stand Up'!"

During that initial phase, whilst I was still coming to terms with everything, I also barely touched alcohol, something that would stagger most people that know me now! This was almost entirely down to the fact that I still didn't fully understand how my body worked post-injury and was terrified that, a) I'd forget to go to the toilet and end up either voiding or exploding and, b) I'd lose balance and end up on the floor in a drunken heap of disability!

I still felt somewhat self-conscious about being in a chair at that point too and everywhere I went I could feel invisible eyes staring at me. I especially hated people watching me as I got out of the car, shuffling across the bright yellow slide board I relied on at that time. Sometimes I'd even purposely delay getting out if I felt anyone nearby was watching!

The Fun and Friendship Factors

Gradually though, once the initial couple of 'coming-to-terms-years' were out of the way and I started to get some idea of how my body worked and what my capabilities were, my confidence began to seep back, I started venturing out more (hello pub!) and began feeling more like my old self. Then I would often use the day of my injury as an excuse to meet up with friends, either at my flat or at the pub and drink the night away in an ironic celebration of the day I freed myself from the shackles of normality! I'm sure, deep down inside, there was still a part of me that was doing this as a distraction to stop my mind from dwelling on things, but as long as I was drinking and laughing with friends, that was good enough for me. None of them have ever treated me any differently than they would if I could walk; we freely and mercilessly take the mick out of each other on a regular basis, and no matter which friends I'm with, none of them feel the need to wrap me in cotton wool and make sure I'm managing okay. They took away many of the stigmas I might have had about being in a wheelchair and made me feel completely at ease. In all honesty, one of the best pieces of advice I could give someone who's gone through a life changing injury would be to surround yourself with a close group of friends. Without wanting to sound overly saccharin, I think it would've taken a hell of a lot longer for me to come to terms with my situation had it not been for the friends I had around me at the time of my injury and the friends I've made since.

The Times They Are A-Changin'

Other factors that have unquestionably helped are those of accessibility and a change in public perception. Years ago, access for those with mobility issues was largely ignored when it came to the planning and construction of new buildings. Whether they be shops, pubs, restaurants or hotels; odds were they'd have a combination of steps, narrow doorways and inaccessible bathrooms, pretty much denying entry to anyone who struggled with mobility. It never struck me at the time, but looking back on my school days, there's no way I could have attended the school I did if I'd been in a chair at the time, with numerous winding staircases being the only way to access a large proportion of the classrooms. Which is one of the reasons why I'm thankful that, if I had to have my injury, I had it at the time I did. Accessibility is now one of the primary concerns when plans for new buildings are drawn up and many existing ones have undergone alterations to improve accessibility. Public transport too, whilst by no means perfect, is getting better; with the majority of buses, trains and major taxi firms having ramps and wheelchair spaces available. Recently, a man in a wheelchair won a Supreme Court case that means bus drivers will have to give disabled passengers priority to the spaces available for them. All these things, though they may seem inconsequential to many, have made it a whole lot easier for people like myself to come to terms with serious injury and see that it may not be as life changing as initially thought.

As for the change in public perception, that's been an even more recent development, with London 2012 really thrusting disability and disability sport into the public eye. Those few weeks in September, when television and media were focused on all the things people with disabilities could do instead of the things they couldn't, gave the public a far greater insight and far better understanding of what it means to have a disability than anything that had ever come before it. At the same time it sent a message to people with disabilities all over the country world, that they can do anything they choose and be anyone they want if they put their minds to it. The legacy London 2012 left behind cannot be understated, and although not everyone with a disability is a 'superhuman' Olympic athlete (Exhibit A sitting right here folks!), chances are we're capable of a lot more than you may have initially thought (especially when using our Active Hands gripping products *plug plug*)!

This? Oh it's just Aaron Fotheringham me chilling in between blogs!

Rolling Forwards

Nowadays, when the Day of Destiny comes round, I greet it fairly nonchalantly, with it barely even registering on my emotional scale anymore. This year, when I woke up and realised what day it was, my initial thought was, "Twelve years?! Jeez, I am getting old!" And then it was just another Tuesday; I got up, did some work, went sofa shopping (like I said, I'm getting old!), followed by wheelchair rugby training on the evening. Without me realising, it went from being that day to just 'that day'. I don't think it's ever going to be a date I forget; as I said previously, it comes too soon after Christmas and New Year. However the emotions and feelings that initially resonated from it are now massively diluted as I have come to realise that my spinal injury is really only ever going to be as life changing as I choose to make it. Now, if I feel eyes watching me as I get out of the car, I just get on with it; even if there may always be a little voice in the back of my heading whispering, "Come on Gareth, don't f*** this up now!"

G