Things I Would Like Non-wheelchair People To Know

Things I would like non-wheelchair people to know

Do not touch my chair. Unless I’ve lost control of my chair and am rolling into traffic, if I have not given you explicit permission, that is a huge violation of my personal space. Think of grabbing my push handles like grabbing someone’s shoulders. That’s not a thing you just do to people.

If I don’t know you, nothing about my chair, my body, my situation, or what I’m doing is any of your gods damned business. Think of commenting on these things to a stranger like catcalling. (If I know you it’s probably fine, as long as you’re respectful. Just like any other personal topic you might ask someone about.)

If I decline an offer of help, do not insist. I know what things I need help with a lot better than you do. (Nothing wrong with offering, help is definitely welcome sometimes, just respect my response.)

Okay, things that should be obvious out of the way, here’s what the post is actually about:

I still prefer the terms “walking” and “running” for the ways I get around. I might say “rolling” or “wheeling” if the distinction is relevant for some reason, since I am ambulatory some of the time, but in general I prefer the same words as you tall people.

I need a much wider space to turn, or especially to turn around, than I do just to pass through a space.

Ask me, rather than assuming you know whether or not I can do something. I would love to go hiking with you, actually, if the trail is light and friendly enough to wheels. No, I can’t ice skate, but I’d still rather you ask if I want to come along than assume I don’t want to be included.

Which activities are notably more difficult is often not obvious. Popping a wheelie to get over a small amount of difficult terrain or even climbing a single step (if I have something to pull myself up with) can actually be pretty easy. A long stretch of ground tilted slightly to the left or right takes a ton of effort. Carrying anything that fits in my lap is trivially easy, but transporting anything that doesn’t fit in my lap is quite hard (though I recently discovered my vacuum fits nicely on my footplate if I wrap my legs around it a little which is cool.) I am constantly surprised by little things that are or aren’t harder than I thought they’d be, or are actually easier than before because I’m sitting.

If you are in my path, you moving suddenly is actually really unpleasant for me. I know you’re there, I’m not going to run you over. If you’re in my way, please do move! But jerking suddenly makes you unpredictable and I might have to stop suddenly to be certain everyone is safe while I process the change, just like if I were driving a car. Also like driving a car, stopping suddenly is unpleasant and a lot of effort, but the small adjustment to my direction I was planning to make is very easy. (Same goes for bikes honestly, or any other vehicle. That’s what the chair is, a vehicle.)

If we’re walking around together and need to get past some stairs, it’s nice if you come with me on the ramp, especially if that ramp is out of the way. It can be really isolating to have to go a different way than everyone else.

If we need to walk close together for whatever reason, you walking directly in front of me is best avoided if possible. Bumping into your heel with my metal footplate is going to be a lot more unpleasant for both of us than it would be if I were on my feet.

In general, you should let me speak for myself. It’s my joints that don’t work, not my brain or my voice. But. If someone else is being disrespectful, your voice is likely much more impactful than mine in that situation. Use it.

I’m not expecting anyone to memorize these things; as long as you’re treating disabled people like people, that’s enough. And if you want to do more than that but don’t know how, respectful questions are generally welcome. I just wanted to share these thoughts, for people who don’t live with them all the time. There are a lot of little differences to being seated all the time that you just don’t think about until you’re there.

Also, while I think most of this is generally true for anyone in a wheelchair, obligatory reminder that I speak only for myself.