Friday Was A Good Day

.Friday was a good day; I only suffered discrimination and was othered because of my physical disability three times that I can remember.

I am a wheels user. I have been disabled since birth. I live in Tasmania.

The first incident occurred when I was called ‘cute’ by a couple of young people who I was introduced to by my support worker. They probably thought I was cute because of the long-held perception that PWD are childish and infantile.

I am a 60-year-old woman and in no way would be described by my peers as cute.  I did not speak up, I just disengaged and went on my way. Sometimes its easer to just roll away.

I went to dinner with my daughter and a friend. I drank wine, I needed a wee. I went to the only disabled loo in the restaurant and waited and waited. I did a little trickle in my pants, my bad!

A lovely dad and his young son finally came out of the only disability access loo in the establishment and said ‘sorry’. I said ‘don’t worry, I only peed my pants a little’. Too passive aggressive?

The things is the dad and his child could have gone to any toilet in the establishment, could but chose to use the disabilty access loo. If I had a choice I would have gone to any of the vacant toilet in the establishment but I didn’t, I could only access one.

Look the boy (around 7) probably needed a poo and dad had to be on hand to wipe. I do not know but this encounter added to my feeling of already being too needy.

I was not the only person in a wheelchair in the restaurant.

We then went to a theatre performance at a local public college in Hobart. The performance was fantastic. We enjoyed it immensely. What I did not enjoy was how I was not able to enter the building like that of other theatre goers.

We found a disabled parking spot really easily and were quite impressed. The issue was that once we left the carpark we were not able to get onto the footpath to get to the theatre. There was no curb cut and we were greeted with a step. One small step, but wheelchairs can’t fly. So, we headed off the road dodging cars in the dark to find another entrance.

We found one but we were unable to enter because the gate was locked. My companion had to go inside and find a teacher to come and unlock the gate. The gate was not locked but we didn’t know that. We entered and had a wonderful time watching the show. Then it was time to get back to the car and this time the gate was locked. My companion had to go get a teacher to let us out, whilst my other companion went to get the car so I did not have to traverse back to the carpark with all the traffic in the dark.

I was not alone: another disabled theatre goer was waiting on their elbow crutches for their car to come pick them up as-well.

I am one person with a disability negotiating my community, telling you about one day in my life.

There are laws, there are policies and legislation around access and inclusion so that people with disablities are not discriminated against and disadvantaged. But they only work when attention to detail is adhered too. When things are not right on the ground in community, it takes the labour of people with disabilities to speak up, again and again.

Some do not not. They choose to stay silent rather than being viewed by community as ungrateful and troublemakers.  We need to shatter the belief that PWD are resilient, stoic and are such inspirations, but that is when they don’t speak up of course. Community it seems are not keen on the ‘loud minority’. And until other PWD speak up, the work will be on the shoulder of the tired few who fight on for the rights of all.

So while advocates and allies are in Canberra or in our local parliament debating matters of disability, these rules, legislation and policies are only as good as their application on the ground.

Tammy Milne is a deaf interpreter, a community activist in various fields and a person living with Arthrogrophosis Multipex Congenita.