I watched a movie last night called Touch the Top of the World. It was a true story about a guy named Eric who became the first and only blind person to climb and summit Mt. Everest.
While it was a decent movie, it got me to thinking about how the world perceives us folks with disabilities, and what it seems that we must go through to be accepted by society. In the movie, Eric was an athletic youth who became blind in his early teens. Through the support of his parents, he remained in regular public school, joined his high school wrestling team, and discovered rock climbing.
He got a job in a public school, dated and married his colleague, and graduated from climbing rock walls to climbing mountains, eventually leaving teaching to make a career out of mountain climbing, and lecturing and teaching the sport. Of course, you know how this story ends–after conquering Kilimanjaro, McKinley, and a coule of other super high peaks, he is invited to climb Everest with a team of friends, and of course, succeeds.
As I said, the movie was ok, but while watching it, I became somewhat irritated both at society, and at “supercrips”. To be honest, maybe my ire is directed more at society than the folks with disabilities who feel that they must overachieve in order to succeed and to be accepted. After all, I’ve found myself in the same spot sometimes, and if I get mad at fellow folks with disabilities for their super-high achievements, I’ll come off as belittling the talents of people like Eric, Stephen Hawking, Helen Keller, Alma Rudolph, Christopher Reeves, and others. That is not my intention at all!
I guess what ticks me off is that I, and other folks with disabilities have found through much personal experience that society in general has very low expectations of us. Most see us as helpless objects of pity, or as burdens on society. Many can’t bring themselves to see us as human, let alone as regular folks, and get defensive when we express anger at discrimination or maltreatment. They spout suff like, “you’re an angry cripple”,” you’re a radical militant”, or “you want special rights”.
Then, there are the good-hearted, but misinformed people out there who unfortunately, are uncomfortable or self-conscious around us, and feel that they must tread gently, treat us differently, or feel sorry for us because we are “fragile”, and “less fortunate”. They feel that we are “brave”, “courageous”, or “an inspiration” for doing such things as getting out of bed in the morning, or doing your own shopping. Some are amazed to find that some of us use public transportation, have regualr jobs, or attend university. These are the folks who always want to “help” us, or who don’t know what to say to us, so they ask, “may I help you?”
It is no small wonder that having experienced these extremes of behavior, a significant number of us feel that we must not only achieve, but overachieve! It’s not enough to be average, or good, no, we have to be better than all the rest, because we ‘re representing our people, people with disabilities. I know the feeling well. When I was in college, I saw that my classmates had misgivings about me, so I had to not only be a good student, I had to be the best, and I was! The same thing happened on the job. I felt that I was a pioneer, forging a path and making a way for folks with disabilities who would come after me, so I had to be a superstar, lest others think poorly of us. I went on this way for years.
Oddly enough, it was disability rights activists who brought me down to earth. Here I was being a little superstar, yet not fighting for the right to be ordinary, and to do the things that non-disabled folks take for granted. I began to advocate and fight for the right of all folks with disabilities to have the same rights as non-disabled folks–the right to an education, the right to accessible public transportation, the right to live in our communities, and have jobs and families, and the right to participate in the political process. I learned that what I really wanted was for people to see me as an ordinary person just like them, no better and no worse. Best of all, I learned that the greatest heroes are the ordinary folks who do great things for their communities, and who work to make the world a better place for everyone. Those were the best lessons that I could ever learn!
Of course, there will always be “supercrips” out there doing their thing, and sometimes, achieving great fame. So, while you’re out there climbing Mt Humongobiggo, take some time to also advocate for accessible parks and mountain trails. While you’re out touring the country as Mr. or Miss Disabled Superstar, promoting the search for a cure, speak out publicly for a national attendant services program, or the right to equal education, or the right to affordable, accessible, integrated housing. If you’re a disabled politician on the campaign trail shaking hands and asking for votes, advocate for accessible polling places, and voting machines, and support, and get your colleagues to support legislation that helps folks with disabilities. In other words, be an ordinary hero, and with the help of activists and advocates, one day, we won’t have to be supercrips to be appreciated.