Accommodations

I am sitting at Vancouver airport as I write this, filling out a questionnaire for a video that I will be helping out with for British Columbia's tourism and hospitality industry in nearby Victoria. One of the questions asked is a very good one.

Tourism British Columbia from Victoria, British Columbia asks:

What issues do you have when it comes to accommodations such as hotels?

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Perhaps one of the most finicky things about accommodations is that many people do not fully understand what "accessible" means. For some places, they assume that if a place has no stairs or steps, it automatically becomes accessible. Worse, some other places consider places with a few steps are still "accessible." Basically there is no standard understanding of what it means to make something accessible.

One of the things that many people with disabilities tend to suggest is to be as specific as possible about what you may require. There have been situations where someone would phone ahead and would be assured that a place is accessible but arrives to find out that it is anything but.

For example, I know someone who was told that the hotel room he wanted was recently renovated to become fully wheelchair accessible. However, it was on the second floor of a building without an elevator, obviously making any renovations useless.

A less obvious incident from another friend involves an "accessible" hotel that had two steps at the front entrance. She uses a power wheelchair, so there was no way for her to enter the hotel at all.

I have come across a less obvious example myself, where the room is on a floor without stairs or steps, but the room itself is too tight to maneuver if you are in a wheelchair, in addition to having an inaccessible bathroom. I did all I could to ensure that it was accessible but without physically being there, there was no way I could have predicted those problems, so sometimes being specific does not always work.

As a side note, one particular pet peeve (especially among fancier hotels) is the use of thick carpeting. Even with good upper body strength, thick carpeting can make navigating through rooms (that are otherwise accessible) similar to getting around in quicksand. Able-bodied people can simulate the effect by trying to roll a suitcase on the same carpeting – it simply does not work well. The best carpeting to use is thin hard carpeting often found at airports. The softer and thicker the carpeting, the worse it will be for wheelchair users.

My advice to professionals in the industry is to do a dry run in a wheelchair or other mobility device in the rooms before declaring it accessible. In addition, see if it is possible to access the room from the outside; there may be some modifications to the hotel's entrance that are needed. In addition, do not be afraid to seek out local disability groups and societies for help; here in Vancouver, there are several organizations who would gladly provide some people with disabilities to do a "test run" of your building. Also, when they have recommendations, listen and never dismiss them; some places tend to do this for accessibility assessments ("It's fine, it's good enough"). We would not recommend things unless we know they are necessary.

There are a lot of advancements that can be made in this field for sure and it all has to do with understanding how things look from our point of view, instead of simply following ADA regulations and other access guidelines without thinking.

What are we called, exactly?

Tammy from Manchester, England asks:

If I see someone in a wheelchair/cane/etc., should I call him/her?

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The person's name always helps. But with that aside, that is a good question.

There have been many words used in the past to describe people with disabilities. Just like many other civil rights movements, the words have evolved over time according to the sensitivities and perceived appropriateness of each generation.

In the past, there have been words used such as "cripple," "lame," "spazz" and so on. These words, over time, have gone from being commonplace to offensive. Some argue that the word "handicap" should be discontinued as well (which I will talk about later).

It seems that here in North America, there is a trend towards person-first language. For those who do not know, person-first language basically puts the person first and impairment second. For example, instead of saying "disabled person," the preferred term is now "person with a disability." (Obviously those who came up with this never had to deal with the length limitations of Twitter!)

The reason for this is that there is a movement to get the general population to change their ways of thinking about disability. Throughout history, there has been the idea that disability is something bad that limits a person's ability to live a full life. After the technological and medical advances of the past several centuries, this is no longer true; many people with disabilities are able to live a full and fulfilling life.

However, despite the advances, social perception of disability has not changed accordingly. It is possible for a person in a wheelchair to be viewed as helpless or limited simply due to his disability – even if the person is actually a Paralympian who has won a gold medal. There are many assumptions that people have, and it is all centered on the idea of what someone "cannot" do.

Hence, if you use the word "disabled" as an adjective, you are effectively describing the person by putting his/her disability first and foremost as if it is the most important thing about him/her. People with disabilities often want to be known for who they are as people, not simply as "the wheelchair guy/girl."

But there is a catch. This is not a universal rule. In the United Kingdom, the term "disabled person" is still widely used. I am not British so I do not know if there are many negative connotations that come from that like in North America. My Twitter has many followers from that part of the world; I would love to pick their brains about this topic one day.

The word "handicap"/"handicapped" could also be the next term to be phased out. Some see the word "handicap" as being an equivalent for "disadvantage." There is also an unconfirmed rumor that since the word's origins come from the term "hand in cap," it also has a connotation that people with disabilities are historically known for being beggars on the streets. (Again, this is not something I have been able to confirm.) Either way, I would not be surprised if this word is abandoned soon; that is why instead of "handicap parking," I err to the side of caution and say "accessible parking" instead.

The words "gimp" and "cripple" (generally considered offensive words) are undergoing an interesting change as well. Like the N-word, they are currently being reclaimed by those with disabilities. Sometimes it is a sign of pride. I have also seen it as a sign of defiance in response to assumptions about disability. Examples of how those words are reclaimed can be found at GimpHacks (a blog belonging to someone I know), My Gimpy Life (an upcoming series starring the wonderful Teal Sherer) and CripCollege (a blog teaching tips and tricks for wheelchair users that existed until 2010).

Of course, this is only English. In some other languages, the negative connotations of disability are embedded into the word itself, such as:

• German's "Behinderung" (which can also mean "incapacity")
  
• Spanish's "discapacidad" (which can also mean "without power")
  
• French's "invalidité" (which can also mean "invalidity" or "nullity")
  
• Chinese's "殘疾" (which can also mean "deformity")
  
• Korean's "장애" (which can also mean "failure")
  
  (This list may not be 100% accurate since I am going by my own knowledge of these languages; obviously I am better at some languages than others. Please feel free to offer corrections.)

Some can argue that the English word "disability" itself would belong on this list too, due to "dis" meaning "not." This issue can get quite complex.

The safest term right now is likely "person with a disability" but do not be surprised if that, too, gets ousted over time in favor of another term.

Do the Paralympics matter?

I have been meaning to answer this question for a while but procrastinated until the timing was right. Well, guess what. The timing is right!

My friend Jess from Vancouver, British Columbia asks:

You probably know that there was talk about whether the Paralympics should be merged with the Olympics... and whether the event has made an impact in disability awareness at all. What do you think?

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This question was submitted a few weeks ago and I was actually already planning to cover it in my other blog, Confined Abilities. But since a question has come in about this topic, I will answer it here instead!

With the Olympics and Paralympics coming up later this year in London, there has been talk about whether the two events should be merged. There have been some rather passionate arguments for and against this; those who are arguing for it are often drawing on the idea of equality while those against it are afraid that the Paralympics will be "swallowed up" by the much larger Olympics.

While there are logistical issues related to merging the two events (such as how to accommodate so many athletes in one city at the same time), I will try to analyze the social aspects of such an act.

Equality is a very relative concept. What is seen as equal to one person may not be seen as equal to another. Some can argue that merging the two events would be "equal" in the way that athletes with and without disabilities can get the same amount of exposure at the same time. Some also argue that due to differences in event size, magnitude and interest, it would be more reasonable to keep them separate in order for the Paralympics to have a chance of success (much like how some may argue that affirmative action has made it possible for previously neglected minorities to "catch up" to the majority).

The idea of equality can also range according to location and society. Having spent some time abroad, there are some instances of disability equality in other places that may be seen as grossly unequal here in North America. For example, I watched a news magazine show from China called "Guangdong Today" where they documented a school for children with developmental disabilities. They praised this school, which was created to keep students away from "regular" schools and in an environment where they are on academically equal footing. They saw it as providing them an equal opportunity to be educated. However in North America, that lack of mainstreaming may be seen as segregation instead of equality.

Equality is such a relative concept that it is difficult to say whether simply merging the Paralympics and Olympics would make things equal, or if separating them would be better. The truth is, your answer will depend on how you look at it and also on the disability culture in which you were raised.

Among all these arguments about how the Paralympics should be handled is the question of whether the Paralympics are effective at all. Certainly as an athletic competition, it is a world-class event and the pinnacle of adaptive sports. But like the Olympics, it is supposed to be a chance for the participants to shine in the public eye – images of athletes gracing the front of cereal boxes and giving pep speeches to gym-fulls of students come to mind. With the limited exposure of the Paralympics, can it truly make a difference in the "real world"?

People with disabilities face many issues in society, even in North America (which is often considered a global center for disability rights movements). These issues relate to employment, healthcare, education, standard of living, relationships and so on – in other words, they are things that people with disabilities cannot always obtain simply due to limitations beyond their control. Despite the social and regulatory advancements in the disability field, these continue to be sore spots.

Many people think that the Paralympics seek to contradict two things: the idea that a disability is a weakness and that glory is achieved through strength. Some may think, "If you can't walk, how can you be considered strong?" I think that is missing the point, and that the true objective of the Paralympics is to challenge the idea of "give/take" when it comes to people with disabilities.

What is the "give/take" idea? In the relationship between people with and without disabilities, there is a very powerful notion that those without disabilities "give" to those with disabilities, and those with disabilities are supposed "take" the help that is given. For example, it is common to see someone try to help someone in a wheelchair but when someone in a wheelchair tries to help others, it is often seen as strange.

With this in mind, I feel that the Paralympics give a chance for everyone to see that people with disabilities can "give" as much as they "take." It gives them the chance to produce something visible for people without disabilities and challenge the existing "give/take" notions. In other words, it can turn what was previously a one-way relationship to a mutual one.

So do the Paralympics make a difference in society? While progress has been slow, I believe it does. An example of this came recently when I was interviewed for a job in a very unlikely location – a car shop. Considering that I know next to nothing about cars, it was very surprising. The manager was interested in finding ways to sell cars and car parts on the internet but could not manage the technology. There were a few candidates and all of them had disabilities (recruited through a local job agency that specializes in finding workers like that). I was told that he was inspired to go this route because he saw a wheelchair basketball game at a community center and was impressed by what people with disabilities were capable of, and realized that this could be an untapped gold mine since many of those people had very marketable skills.

Simply hearing that was a welcome surprise and while not everyone who watches a Paralympic sport will think like this (or be in a position to hire people), there is no question that once in a while it can have an effect that can spill over to "real world" solutions.

The Paralympics definitely matter. But it is always easier to build ramps and elevators than it is to change people's perceptions. It may take a while for it to happen and it may not happen within our lifetimes but in the future it would not be surprising to see that things have improved drastically.

Weird questions

My friend Larry from Rowland Heights, California asks:

Do people ask you weird things about you [because you're in a wheelchair]? ... What's the weirdest thing you've been asked?

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Interestingly, this topic came up during an encounter with Jocelyn from GimpHacks just the other week. In another incident, Tiffany Carlson wrote yesterday at New Mobility about someone asking if her boyfriend was paralyzed too. There is certainly a strange tendency for absolute strangers to ask weird questions to wheelchair users, for whatever reason. Some of these questions can get quite personal.

In general, I do not mind if people who know me or friends ask me questions. They are often hesitant to even ask in fear of offending or embarrassing me. (Their restrained curiosity and hesitation, in part, led to the creation of this blog.) I try to make it clear that since they know me, it is fine to ask questions, which is better than assuming things.

However, there are certain factors involved if someone wishes to ask me something related to my condition:

-how well the person knows me
-how close I am to that person
-whether that person needs to know the information
-whether that person would freak out at the answer to sensitive questions (even though that person wanted to know in the first place!)

With that said, things get strange when absolute strangers ask me questions. The questions can range from something very general (such as "How long have you been in a wheelchair?") to something very specific and personal (such as "Can you have sex?").

No matter how intimate the question is, when a stranger asks questions related to my condition within one hour of meeting me, it feels like he/she is not seeing me primarily as a person but rather he/she is putting my disability first before everything else.

Interestingly, questions about my equipment (such as my wheelchair) do not bug me as much. One reason is because I tend to be a "gear snob/nerd" myself sometimes and also because the people who tend to ask about equipment often fall into four categories: 1) senior citizens, 2) other people with a disability, 3) people who have friends/relatives with disability or 4) healthcare equipment professionals who happen to talk to me. These people are interested in mobility equipment mostly because they benefit from it or already know something about it. I have yet to meet someone interested in my equipment who does not fall into one of those four categories.

When it comes to friends and people I know, the appropriateness of questions tends to change. One big reason is because they have come to know me as a person first, putting the disability in second place as a result. Any information I give them will always be in second place after my personality.

That is why they feel like they can ask intimate questions like "Can you have sex?" and honestly expect me to answer. However, I wish they would stop freaking out at some of the answers. I remember explaining the bladder emptying process for people with paralysis and getting quite the reaction; if you ask the question, be prepared for the "no holds barred" truth! (I found the freak-out to be hilarious though; I can be quite evil sometimes.)

In closing, I think it is inappropriate to ask about someone's physical condition if you do not know that person very well. However, a free pass may be given to questions about someone's wheelchair or mobility equipment as long as you have some personal interest in it, either through your own medical condition, profession or relationship to someone who uses the same equipment.

And if in doubt, you can try sending the question to this blog and I will see if it can be answered publicly.

Types of wheelchairs

VolcanoRupture from Tacoma, Washington asks:

Yesterday I overheard a guy in a wheelchair on the bus talking to someone about different "types" of wheelchairs. I think I have a vague idea of what that means, but can you explain that a bit?

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This is something that a surprisingly large number of people do not notice about wheelchairs. Not all wheelchairs are created equal! Quite often, "real" wheelchair users will be picky about this – especially when it comes to wheelchairs used in TV shows and movies.

You will have to excuse me for the excessive criticism of TV show and movies in this blog post. I am referring to them because the creators of such productions often do NOT see the difference between different types of wheelchairs.

There are basically three kinds of wheelchairs, and I will give them nicknames:

1. The Hospital Clunker
2. The Fancy Sleek Wheelchair
3. The Battery-Powered Super Chair
4. The Sports Wheelchair (okay, that is not so much a nickname but rather the actual term for it)

Let's break them down one by one.

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1. The Hospital Clunker

This is the type of wheelchair that many TV shows and movies use, and is part of what draws the ire of "real" wheelchair users. Why? Because these wheelchairs are not made for everyday use. They are primarily used for transporting hospital patients or the elderly; they are heavy and best used when pushed by somebody else.

Most people with long-term mobility impairments will NOT use this type of chair because prolonged pushing will result in a higher rate of "wear and tear" and injuries. They weigh 35 to 45 pounds – is it any wonder you can get hurt wheeling yourself around the city with this?

Besides, they are ugly. Very ugly.

But TV shows and films continue to use these Hospital Clunkers on characters who supposedly have permanent disabilities. Before we even find out about the actor's background, we immediately know that they did not cast a "real" wheelchair user for the role. It is akin to casting a Middle Eastern person to play a character from India – it lacks realism and feels like a type of stereotyping or profiling.

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2. The Fancy Sleek Wheelchair

Most "real" wheelchair users who have permanent mobility impairments will use a Fancy Sleek Wheelchair. These wheelchairs are often one-piece frames made of titanium or high-quality aluminum. As well, these wheelchairs have one very important aspect to them – they are CUSTOM MADE to the wheelchair user's measurements.

Wheelchairs are custom made to "fit the user like a shoe." What that means is that the length of your legs must conform to the length of the frame so that they are aligned properly. Also, your thighs have to be on the chair in a way that you are not "sinking into" the chair. These two are especially important because long-term sitting can result in complications like pressure sores ("bedsores"), particularly those with limited sensation in their lower bodies, such as people with paralysis.

Another modification might be a backrest to ensure someone who is sitting down for most of the day gets proper posture support. This is something that Hospital Clunkers often lack.

There are other reasons for customization as well, such as making sure it suits a person's particular condition. For example, someone with a spinal cord injury might have different needs than someone with cerebral palsy, and the wheelchair's customizations will address that and include features that are most important to that person.

An example of a feature that does not work for everyone is the backrest height. My own wheelchair is configured for someone with a low spinal cord injury, which is fine for me. But if you put me in a wheelchair for someone with a mid-level injury, I will likely have a very difficult time using it.

Compared to the Hospital Clunkers, the Fancy Sleek Wheelchairs also weigh less – MUCH less. Some wheelchair frames (without wheels or accessories) can weigh as little as 13 pounds. My own wheelchair, which is made of titanium, weighs 25 pounds – and this is with the wheels and accessories attached. So even with that "extra weight," it weighs less than a Hospital Clunker by itself!

There are several TV shows and movies that got this part right, most notably Saved! and Glee (although the latter did not get it quite perfect when it came to the custom sizing).

As well, some of these chairs are quite good-looking. Check out some of the chairs from TiLite (my chair's brand), Colours in Motion and Invacare. Pay close attention to how the chairs look and compare them to the Hospital Clunkers. There is a big difference.

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3. Battery-Powered Super Chair

The Battery-Powered Super Chair is something you may not see so much in TV shows and movies but when it shows up, it is often used by a character who may not necessarily "need" it.

What does that mean? In short, in real life, Battery-Powered Super Chairs are often used by those who cannot otherwise use a manually-propelled wheelchair, such as those with quadriplegia (limited or no use of the upper limbs).

Occasionally you may see someone with paraplegia (impairment in the lower limbs only) use it to prevent everyday "wear and tear" on the body but it seems that unless you are middle-aged, it is not very common to see that (and even for middle-aged people, it is not too common now). Nowadays, the technology for Fancy Sleek Wheelchairs seems to be improved to the point where Battery-Powered Super Chairs are not necessary for those with paraplegia.

These Super Chairs, while handy, pose a physical and possible psychological challenge.

Physically, these chairs are difficult to transport: they often weigh several hundred pounds each. If you drive a car like I do, it is next to impossible to bring one of these chairs unless you have an adapted/modified van.

Psychologically, there is often a fear among Fancy Sleek Wheelchair users that a Super Chair will make you seem "more disabled." This is by no means a knock on Super Chair users, of course, but there is a perception that Super Chair users are quite far down the hierarchy of those with mobility impairments. I am NOT saying this is fair or right, but that is how things seem to be right now.

I have been through this psychological aspect before. I went through several instances where I would be at a disability-related event and the demographics among the attendees would be mostly Super Chair users. As a Fancy Sleek Wheelchair user, I cannot begin to express how out of place I feel when this happens. Though I did not feel "better" than them simply because I use a Fancy Sleek Wheelchair, it is possible someone unfamiliar with disabilities will have that view.

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4. Sports Wheelchair

Some people think that Fancy Sleek Wheelchairs are sufficient for playing sports. Throw a basketball to a Fancy Sleek Wheelchair user, and he can play some one-on-one hoops with you, right?

Unless that person is really ambitious, there is a better way to do it – use a Sports Wheelchair.

Sports Wheelchairs are like the Sleek Wheelchairs – one-piece and lightweight. However, they have a few features that Sleek Wheelchairs may not necessarily have:

1. Tilted back wheels (called "cambered" wheels): this makes quick sharp turns possible.
2. Anti-tip wheels behind the seat: this prevents flipping backwards during play without slowing you down.
3. (Sometimes) collision frames near the footrest: this makes contact with other wheelchairs possible without causing injury to the user's legs or feet.

Try looking for these features in the photo above.

In addition, there may be accessories that may be used in sports but not in Sleek Wheelchairs, such as leg or torso straps (to prevent from falling forward out of the wheelchair).

Unfortunately, many TV shows and movies like to show competitive wheelchair sports being played in only Sleek Wheelchairs. While it is possible to play some sports with them, it is highly unlikely they will be used in competitive play. Sleek Wheelchairs are not as easily maneuverable as Sports Wheelchairs (due to the non-angled back wheels and heavier frame) and will very likely result in an upper body injury in competitive action due to that reason.

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That was a long read but I hope that clears some things up. So the next time you see someone in a Fancy Sleek Wheelchair, you can do things like differentiate between that person and someone in a Hospital Clunker with a temporary injury.

Relationships

Rob from Durham, North Carolina asks:

How hard is it for people with disabilities to form relationships? ... Is it hard to make friends? ... What about dating?

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That is a very good question and topic. The answer is both simple and complicated. On one hand, having a disability is a disaster for relationships, both for friends and romantic partners. But on the other hand, it can strengthen those relationships. I will answer based on my experiences as a wheelchair user (rather than other disabilities), since that is what this blog is about.

First, I will talk about friends.

After I acquired my disability and started using a wheelchair, something happened. People who used to interact with me started tapering off. E-mails started to go unanswered. Phone calls ignored. Even a greeting gesture on the street would go unnoticed. Having a disability (pardon the term) sucks when you lose friends as a result of it.

The reason for that can vary. Some simply do not want the added hassle of having a friend with a disability. Some cannot handle the thought of their friend having a disability. There are also others who do not wish to associate themselves with people with disabilities – cruel but true. You really get to see the true natures of many people.

On the other hand, there are friends who are the opposite and will stick by you no matter what happens. While I lost a lot of friends, there were a few who remained despite everything and I have always been grateful for that. These are the friends who will consider my situation when thinking about what kind of things to do; they will be okay with not going to a place if wheelchair accessibility is a problem, or with taking the scenic route to a place because of obstacles like stairs, or helping to push your wheelchair up a slope if it is too steep to handle, and so on.

In that way, having a disability is perhaps a great "friend filter" as it filters out your genuine friends from those who are not. The strength of a friendship depends on whether you, as a person, matters more than your disability.

What about romantic relationships?

I have not pursued a romantic relationship for a long time but have encountered a situation before involving an old high school girlfriend. She was working on the SkyTrain system here in Vancouver as a station attendant. She recognized me but I was too terrified to say that it was indeed me. Why was I terrified?

The main reason is because in public, most females who are my age (mid-20s) have looked at me with the two looks I hate the most – the pitying look or the look of sadness. It is difficult to describe but it is basically a look that either says, "Poor guy, ending up in a wheelchair and all" or "You remind me of what horrible things can happen to someone in life, and that makes me sad."

I hate that. I do not know if I am the only male wheelchair user who gets that.

However, it seems (to me, anyway) that those two looks come most often from women, and not so much from other men. That kind of look gives me the impression that male wheelchair users are often NOT the target of romantic relationships because of the overlying feeling of pity or sadness which undermines any feelings one would otherwise have for a male. (I cannot speak for female wheelchair users though, since I am not one; if you are, feel free to comment about your own experiences.)

Now, back to the encounter on the SkyTrain.

My old high school girlfriend recognized me but I was terrified to identify myself. But one thing that stuck out in that encounter was that she lacked the look of pity or sadness that I often see from females who look at me. Instead, she seemed to see me as a person first; the disability was secondary and perhaps mattered very little.

That sounds like something that should happen more often but for some reason, it does not. It is, therefore, not surprising that it is incredibly difficult for wheelchair users to find romantic partners. It is far from impossible but it is notoriously difficult, partly due to people's prejudices and perceptions of disability as a horrible thing to be avoided.

Again, these are my own experiences. Others may have different ones.

All eyes on me

Joe from Conyers, Georgia asks:

Do people stare at you a lot? ... Does it bother you when [they do]?

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This is one of the most common questions about wheelchair users that people like to know. Why is it asked so often? Part of the reason is because everybody has a different answer to this.

Being in a wheelchair, I tend to stand out whether I like it or not. Some people never get used to the staring, but others do. I am somewhere in the middle for a few reasons, the biggest one being how I am still considered a fairly "new" wheelchair user compared to other people.

When I first had to use a wheelchair, I was terrified of being in public. Part of the reason is the potential for people to stare. I went through the same experience when I first had to wear glasses. Even though it was a necessity, the prospect of having new glasses or a wheelchair scared me.

Some people do stare at you like you are a sideshow. Even though I had been taught how to get around in a wheelchair, I paid a lot of attention to doing things right – it was of the utmost importance that I avoided doing something such as hitting a crack and taking a spill or lose control while going down a slope. I knew that if I screwed up, it would lead to more staring and I wanted to avoid that. To this day, I still have this fear in the back of my mind.

What I found was that it was a mixture of staring and complete avoidance. Some people would be fixated on me while others would act like I wasn't even there. These two extremes are best displayed at places like stores: some clerks will not even acknowledge your presence while others will pay special attention to you in case "you needed any help." The avoidance can become a problem when you actually DO need their help, of course!

So why is there a mixture of staring and avoidance?

The staring is easier to understand. Often it is not malevolent – people stare because they are curious but do not wish to express their curiosity with words. If you were to stare so intensely at an able-bodied person in a place like Canada or the United States, it may be interpreted differently.

I like to relate the staring towards wheelchair users to the staring that a Caucasian person may get in an Asian country. When I was in Asia, many non-Asians told me that they got a lot of stares but they understand it is from curiosity more than anything, since some areas are not accustomed to seeing non-Asians. I believe it is this same type of curiosity that causes staring in the West towards wheelchair users.

The reason for avoidance is much more harder to pinpoint but the prevailing theory is that it comes from childhood. When I am out and about, parents tend to direct their children away from me or tell the child to not stare or ask questions. Over time, the child is trained not to look at or interact with wheelchair users at all, resulting in avoidance.

Is this the right thing to teach our children? This is a much-debated question.

Those who say "yes" are often basing their answer on etiquette. They are trying to get their children to not be rude (by staring) or nosy (by asking questions).

Those who say "no" are often trying to promote understanding by familiarizing children with disability culture from an early age. It is theorized that if children are taught not to ignore people with disabilities, it will result in a more inclusive society.

Personally, I am in favor of the latter answer. I do not mind children asking questions because they are simply curious; it is also a great age to start learning about how other people live, whether it be related to different cultures, nationalities, sexual orientations or abilities/disabilities.

What about older children, teenagers or adults? In general, I do not mind older children or teenagers asking questions either. For adults, it depends on the person because I find that some adults hold some very concrete (and often incorrect) prejudices and assumptions about disability that are hard to crack even with the right information, for whatever reason. Older children and teenagers have prejudices and assumptions as well but they are not as concrete and inflexible as adults. This is my own observation, so other people may have different experiences.

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Concluding thoughts

Does staring bother me? It does, but so does avoidance. When you hear the word "inclusion," it does not mean treating certain groups differently but rather the same as everybody else. Both staring and avoidance are based on treating me differently because I am in a wheelchair. Treating me like everybody else you know would be the best solution.

Should we teach kids not to stare or ask questions? I do not think so. I think it is important to promote understanding at an early age before adulthood, when the more hardened prejudices and opinions about people with disabilities set in. I do not mind children and teenagers asking questions; I would rather have them ask questions than make assumptions that continue into their later years.

I understand that the staring is often due to curiosity, and not everyone gets a chance to ask the questions that satisfy that curiosity. That is what this blog is for – hopefully by answering questions, there will be fewer stares because you will already have some sort of understanding.

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Keep the questions coming! No question is off-limits (as long as it has benevolent intentions)!

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