Written by Tammy Milne – PDA’s TAS Director
Friday was a good day.
I only suffered discrimination and othering three times because of my physical disability.
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 my peers describe me as cute. I did not speak up, I just disengaged and went on my way. Sometimes it’s simply 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 “do not worry, I peed my pants a little.” Too passive aggressive?
The frustrating thing is that the dad and his child could have gone to ANY toilet in the establishment. Could have, but chose to use the only disability access loo. If a choice was available to me, I would have gone to any of the vacant toilets, however I couldn’t. I could only access one.
Look, the boy (around 7) probably needed a poo and understandably the dad had to be on hand to wipe. I am assuming this to be the case, but this encounter added to my feelings of being too needy.
I was not the only person in a wheelchair in the restaurant.
We then went to a theatre performance a local public college in Hobart. The performance was fantastic. We enjoyed it immensely. What I did not enjoy though was how I was not able to enter the building like that of other theatre goers. On arrival we found a disabled parking spot really easily and were quite impressed. The issue lay in the fact 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 down the road, dodging cars in the dark to find another entrance.
We did find one, but we were unable to access it 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. When it was time to go back to the car, we discovered that the gate had been locked. Again my companion had to find a teacher to let us out, whilst my other companion went to get the car so that I did not have to traverse back to the carpark with all the traffic in the dark.
I was not alone in this inaccessible challenge. 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 to ensure that people with disabilities are not discriminated against or disadvantaged. However, they only work when attention to detail is adhered to and people are mindful and respectful. 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 or troublemakers. We need to shatter the belief that PWD are resilient, stoic and such inspirations, but that is when they don’t speak up of course. It seems as though community is not keen on the “loud minority”. And until other PWD speak up, the work will be on the shoulders of the tided 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, the application of these rules, legislation and policies are only as good as their application on the ground.
