Disability and Accessibility

(Here's another old column I found and dusted off from September 1992. The funny thing about going through these old Ramblers is once I read them I can actually remember writing them even it if was 15 years ago. I also find I feel much the same today about the things I wrote about as I did back then. This column is no exception.

It goes back to the days before amalgamation and when Grand Bay had its own police force. The names are familiar and so are the problems. I miss those regular wheelchair basketball games. They did create a needed awareness. I assume accessibility is better today than it was 15 years ago. I sure hope it is.)

I had three experiences recently that forced me to open my eyes and look at things differently. So often we go about our lives with blinders on until something happens that makes us stop and think and hopefully see. What I saw and experienced helped change my perception of what it means to be disabled.

It started with a visit to a friend at the Regional Hospital who was about to have some repair work done on his artificial knee. His old one just wore out and needed replacing. He was confident the surgery would be successful. Later that day, as I went for my usual run I thought about my friend laid up in the hospital. I felt fortunate because my knees still allowed me to jog and do whatever else I wanted. I felt sorry for my friend. But then I remembered the time he took me exploring in a cave. I was the one having trouble getting around down there, not him. He's the one always anxious to go hiking and canoeing. I realized my friend doesn't let an artificial knee get in the way of his enjoyment of life.

A few days after that hospital visit, I found myself in a wheelchair. I was a player in the 3rd Annual Wheelchair Basketball Game at Westfield school. As usual the team from Grand Bay/Westfield took a beating from the Saint John Maverick's Wheelchair Basketball Team. There were plenty of laughs as our team members awkwardly tried to play the game sitting in a wheelchair. Westfield councilor Allen Day had trouble staying in his. He kept flipping it over on himself.

Norm Adams of the Grand Bay Police couldn't quite figure out how to dribble the ball and drive the chair at the same time. As for me, I'm useless at basketball standing on two feet, let alone in a wheelchair. But we all had fun trying. And it opened my eyes again.

Peter Brooker, one of the organizers of the game, wanted to show everyone there, players and spectators, that being disabled does not mean the end of one's life. The disabled can participate in any community activity as long as the barriers are removed. "Access is a right. It's not a privilege." says Peter, "Once people and politicians realize that, then we might eventually have a barrier free society." Peter is happy to see more ramps and elevators for the disabled being installed in the Grand Bay/Westfield area. But of course, much more needs to be done.

That same week I experienced another eye opener in the form of an obituary notice in the newspaper. The headlines read Hollywood actor Anthony Perkins dies of AIDS. Anthony Perkins, if you don't know became famous by playing the murderous Norman Bates in Alfred
Hitchcock's film Psycho. Normally I would have just glanced at the article and turned the page. But something caught my attention and held it. Perkins released a statement just before his death. This is what he said: "There are many who believe that this disease is God's vengeance but I believe it was sent to teach people how to love and understand and have compassion for each other. I have learned more about love, selflessness and human understanding from the people I have met in this great adventure in the world of AIDS than I ever did in the cut-throat, competitive world in which I spent my life."

Surely living with a disease like AIDS has to be one of the most disabling experiences one could have. And yet Anthony Perkins faced it with courage. He didn't let the disease rob him of his humanity and he actually grew as a person by the experience.

My eyes have opened a little. I still have a lot to learn.