One summer, two friends and I instigated a 3-family picnic—the Millers, the Hines, and the Fowlers. It was great fun until my dear friend jumped off a rope swing and broke her ankle. During her recovery, she spent more than a little time in a wheelchair being pushed about by her gregarious, caring husband. Later, she shared with me the perspective of those in wheelchairs. In her words, I broke my ankle not my head! Talk to me, not about me, to my husband! Her injury isolated her, so she craved recognition & respect.
Consequently, the next time I encountered someone in a wheelchair, I made eye contact with them and said Hello. What a response! It was as if my recognition & respect of them was a shot of adrenalin. I had had no idea that politely ignoring the infirmities of others was also denying their existence. Perhaps this “courteous” practice goes back to childhood when our mothers told us not to stare? I now make a point of acknowledging those in wheelchairs, or those using canes, or scooters. If you do not already do this, please join me and reap the rewards of some beatific smiles and interesting friends.
One such friend lived across the street from us in Boise, ID. Even wheelchair bound, neighborly Ken could fix anything mechanical or electrical. His garage became the gathering spot for the men of the neighborhood. One quiet morning I was out front weeding before the heat of the day when Ken wheeled himself to his curb and hollered for assistance. His wife, Darlene, was having issues. Could I drive them to the hospital? It proved to be a most distressing day. Darlene’s medical problem was eventually solved, but I was astounded to observe that every person who entered her hospital room ignored Ken. Of course, Ken knew his wife’s medical history, and he was her medical advocate with the legal authority to make decisions. Even so, the orderlies, nurses, and doctors all initially asked their questions of me, the neighbor! As you might guess, I gained much favor that day by directing all inquiries to Ken, the knowledgeable man in the wheelchair.
Whether or not you or I will need a wheelchair in this life remains to be seen. It is a possibility we should consider when we plan for our decline (Please see the Health section in the Heritage of Hope Workbook). In 2020, my brother’s wife had a stroke.
Because she is a determined lady who actually does all her physical therapy exercises, she has regained much of her mobility and rarely uses a chair or cane these days. Even so, she still encounters some impatient folks who are less than courteous. She has even had folks push her chair aside while she was shopping for clothes! There are others who direct all questions to her husband as if she is unable to hear or speak. Many times, she is the only one who knows the answer to their medical questions. My brother is quick to remedy such condescending attitudes by emphasizing her college credentials. When they encounter such disrespect, he will ask if they have met his wife, Doctor Catherine Wilson?
When Doctor Catherine was teaching first graders, she had one student confined to a wheel chair. Initially, the boy in the chair was ignored by the other students during recess and left on his own. However, his resourceful mother came to school and gave a “share and tell” presentation on his wheelchair. She drew the other students into his world by explaining and having him demonstrate how he could or could not maneuver his chair. Thereafter, his young classmates responded differently. With this new information, they knew when they could include him in their activities and did so. How might we, like these first graders, give recognition & respect to those we encounter with limitations?
Paradoxically, being helpful or familiar without asking permission can be as insulting or demoralizing as ignoring those with disabilities. Courtesy is always appropriate but assuming another’s need is not. Ask people if they would like your assistance. Wheelchair etiquette is something we need to learn and teach our children. It has been explained to me that folks in wheelchairs need a bigger bubble than the rest of us. Asking permission to help or touch recognizes their boundaries and shows respect. Doctor Catherine even compared having a stroke to having a baby in that she felt her body was no longer her own. Accordingly, the recognition & respect of others became quite important.
We can do more than correct our attitudes and increase our awareness of those with limitations. It is possible to actually provide pediatric wheelchairs to children around the world in the name of Jesus by partnering with Joni and Friends. Joni’s website and blog are full of information that will help individuals and churches respond to the needs of the disabled in loving, respectful ways. Christmas has come and gone, but we can give recognition & respect, powerful gifts, year round.
