344 words of disability
I leave my house, wheeling down a wooden slope by my front door in my power chair. I move through the small car park, crossing the pavement. This requires delicate movement and some concentration because the paving stones are broken. Some are loose which means as the weight of my chair goes over the slabs they wobble and I sink forward. It is much worse if it's raining because the wheels on my NHS wheelchair are average and skid. I'm lucky – having fought within the independent living movement most of my life – that I have a personal assistant.
She will steady my chair out of the skid and check if the road is clear. I prefer the road because the pavements are shocking, matched only by the lack of dropped kerbs. While the roads themselves are full of savage potholes, they are easier to circumnavigate than the unstable paving slabs and illogical lack of dropped kerbs.
Illogical because they are often on one side of the road only, complete with tactile paving, to give visually impaired people equality in their movements. But one side alone doesn't work. If drivers get agitated with me and my PA swerving around potholes looking for an appropriate dropped kerb, experience tells me they have no idea in their enclosed limited minds of what barriers I am tackling.
Wherever I am going, whatever city, town, village or rural hamlet I face this everyday. It's part of my normality and I very rarely feel anger at my time in life – though this doesn't mean I believe it's acceptable for one moment. More than ever I simply choose my battles.
But I felt an urge to write this mini Substack piece as the election looms and as increasing nonsense about the disability experience is shared from the nonsense spoutings on social media.
This is a tiny fraction into my barrier-besieged life. And I'm going to share more of these tiny moments.
Do feel free to share yours below in the comments.
Anyone who knows me well knows that I'm a massive Hastings United fan. I was at a game last night (without my PA) and struggled with the most basic things - getting food and drink, getting in and out of the Clubhouse, etc. However, my fellow fans are helpful and supportive and the evening went well - we won 2-0.
After changing buses at the Station I finally got home and retreated into Facebook over a cuppa. There was a post on the Club's fans page from a friend angry that his son, who has learning difficulties, had been bullied after the game - by our OWN fans!!
I'm livid!! The Club has a clear anti-discrimination policy, and this should cover ALL forms of discrimination. On the run up to Disability History Month and International Day Of Disabled People I despair at how, despite years of campaigning and having legislation in place, Disabled people still have to put up with abuse and discrimination which would simply be unlawful in any other scenario.
More please :)