I am not P.C.
Never have been. Never will be. Politically Correct hasn't ever been part of my life.
Neither have other acronyms for P.C...
Purely Courteous, Polite and Cordial. etc.
But let me be Perfectly Clear:
If you open a door for me, I'll be so thankful.
I am not disabled. But I have a disability.
I am not limited. But I have limitations.
I am not someone who will ever be offended when you run ahead of me and open the door for me. I will happily and very gratefully be very relieved, and say THANK YOU with all my heart. (And you better hope it ends there. Sometimes I start to cry and tell you how really grateful I am to you, and list all the reasons why.
I was wheeling up to a door, by myself, with Halle on my lap, and my purse flopping around next to me, on me, around me, and Halle trying her very hardest to be helpful. And a guy sat and watched me for a few seconds. I couldn't figure out why; I mean, we were quite a sight to see--pathetic sight--but why did he just watch?
Then he finally jumped into action and headed for the door we were heading for. The Young Man cut me off and opened the door. I gratefully gushed out a "THANK YOU SO MUCH!" and cute Halle said, "Yep! Thanks a lot!" And then he said something so sad. He said: "I didn't know whether to help you or not. Some people get really angry if you try to help..."
We chatted for a few minutes and he told me he had tried to open a door for someone in a wheelchair a few years ago and he vowed he wouldn't make that mistake again. Because the woman yelled at him. She told him that under no circumstances did she need his help. She may 'look handicapped'. but wasn't, and didn't need his help with the door - 'or anything else!' She then went on to chastise him for assuming she was "disabled" and couldn't open her own door. How did he think she got around all day every day? Hmph!
The Young Man said he was so shocked and embarrassed at the woman's response. They were in a very public place and she really laid into him. He said he was just trying to help her with the door, not make assumptions about her "handicap" or anything else. But he swore he'd never again make the mistake of assuming someone in a wheelchair needed help. And he hasn't for a few years now.
Well, guess what, girlfriend? Judging by that response, you probably did need his help...maybe more than you knew. And you almost scared the poor guy off forever. Or at least for awhile!
I am not sure why there are people who feel they have to pretend to be Superman. Or Superwoman. When you're in a wheelchair, chances are, you need help with a door now and then. Or a lot. I do anyway.
I'm also not sure why the words "disability" or "limitations" or other words that are now part of my life are often so...well, debilitating to some folks. Or offensive. Admittedly, I didn't ever crave having those words be part of my life in such a literal way. It took some getting used to - realizing that those words now described certain parts of me.
They don't define who I am. But they are part of this new-ish life of mine. I do have a disability now. I do have limitations. Many more than I ever wanted. But it's not a bad thing. Or it doesn't need to be, I guess. To coin an over-used phrase (that Mat really dislikes) IT IS WHAT IT IS.
So we went through that door, and The Young Man thanked me. I might have been able to get the door for Halle and I...given enough time and after several attempts. Maybe. In any case, I didn't want to find out. I don't need to be able to open my own door to feel accomplished. I just needed a little help, and that purely courteous Young Man helped me out. He was also a great example to Halle in just being helpful. Courteous. KIND. My favorite word. And I love her to see such great examples of kindness.
So thank you again, Young Man, whose name I didn't even get, for opening the door. A seemingly simple task to both of us, that was a day changer for both of us, too.
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