After I joined the Inclusive Design program I kept feeling a bit of a fraud, like I didn’t have enough life experience of the accessible and othered world to be able to fully see the world in an inclusive manor.
It seems that the universe was thinking the same thing because half way through my first semester I dislocated my knee and had to temporarily view the world through the eyes of someone who isn’t able to physically do the things that on an average day I am capable of. In the past, I have always lived with chronic illnesses, ones that will lay me in bed feeling sick for days or make my head not work quite right. But even when I injured my back I never had anything that limited my access to buildings or vehicles the way that being unable to bend your knees limits you.
Car doors are designed in a way that make it next to impossible to enter and leave a car because it is designed for people who can bend their knees at least 90 degrees. And in a city like Toronto where we have the privilege to be able to take Lyft’s or Taxis you would think that would improve the ability of getting around, but when they park up the block or are unable to get to your location it can make it incredibly difficult and painful on someone with mobility issues. For example, I called one Lyft to get back home from school, which is located on a one way street, the person driving the car honked at me from across the street and told me to cross the street and when I called back to him that I can’t cross the street he just took off, making me wait another 17 minutes for another car. When I called Lyft to alert them of this situation they were surprised he didn’t just drive around the block to correct his positioning.
On a day that I was already out and about, getting a flu shot, I decided to brave the TTC because I wanted to experience what people who cannot afford taxi’s would have to endure. I only rode on the streetcar one time because I did not want to risk my own health over this experience, which made me terribly sad that this would be some peoples only choice. While taking the TTC the first hardship was that the streetcar did not announce that it was going to stop only one stop after I had gotten on, which was incredibly painful to get off to wait for a second street car over 10 minutes later.
Once off the street car I tried to get back onto the sidewalk to wait for the next street car, but while trying to get off the road someone was standing on the accessible ramp that goes up the sidewalk, when I asked her to move she scowled at me at motioned her head for me to go around her.
After I joined the Inclusive Design program I kept feeling a bit of a fraud, like I didn’t have enough life experience of the accessible and othered world to be able to fully see the world in an inclusive manor.
It seems that the universe was thinking the same thing because half way through my first semester I dislocated my knee and had to temporarily view the world through the eyes of someone who isn’t able to physically do the things that on an average day I am capable of. In the past, I have always lived with chronic illnesses, ones that will lay me in bed feeling sick for days or make my head not work quite right. But even when I injured my back I never had anything that limited my access to buildings or vehicles the way that being unable to bend your knees limits you.
Throughout the day, walking around going to the movie theatre, physical therapy, and receiving a flu shot, I had received a variety of different reactions ranging from incredibly helpful and pleasant to hostile. The kindest people that I had encountered were the people who appeared to be homeless or the ones that were hiding away from the crowds near the accessible entrances. There was people who scowled at me, one of them told me to quit the sympathy act while I was just trying to enjoy a bubble tea. A couple of people smirked at me like they were glad their lives weren’t as bad as the person in crutches. The ones who blatantly ignored you like if they made eye contact with you they might catch whatever you have. The ones almost came to help open a door, but at the last second turned the other direction and kept walking.
By far the worst of all the reactions was the one who physically started shoving me while on the TTC. After leaving the first street car I had to wait for a second and that street car did not pull all the way up to the accessible platform before opening their doors. Once I was able to lift myself onto the street car I was immediately pushed. And then pushed a second time and this time I turned around to tell the person to stop, because I was in so much pain after that. Yet no one sitting in the accessible seating offered me their seat. Everyone tried to avoid eye contact with me like they felt that if they made eye contact with me it’d become their responsibility, and that’s exactly what happened when one lady met my eyes, she finally offered me their seat. But across the aisle from the one who offered me their seat was a group of young adults who I could now see took the whole wall of folding chairs to place their music gear, amplifiers and pianos, along the wall of the street car.
There was also good moments that came out of the day, like learning to take the escalator on crutches or the kind person at Cineplex that helped me get to my seat with popcorn. But it was an overall terrible experience and I can only begin to imagine how someone who has to adapt their entire lives to this system and has no other choice but to take these terrifying forms of transportation.
The routes and the systems for people who aren’t as mobile as most is quite upsetting, too. That if you can’t take stairs you can be rerouted through parking lots and various challenges. Such as the elevator that is in the Dundas Square that does not go to the floors that is labeled on outside and no direction towards the one that does reach those floors. Until I was on the escalator I could not see where that other elevator was.
After spending an evening out by myself in this condition I have come to the full understanding that this world is absolutely built for one and certainly not built for all, more so than I was before I gained this injury.
