[dropcap]I[/dropcap]’ll admit that I mindlessly sat in one of the fold-up disability seats on the SkyTrain the other day. I don’t have a disability, I just saw the empty seat on what looked to be a fairly full cart, so I went in for the taking — mindful that I would give up the seat to any transit-goer whom I knew would need it more than myself. In other words, any transit customer who is either elderly or uses some form of apparatus to help with their mobility.
However, after clicking through CBC’s website last night, I was given a small dose of reality, and perhaps a little guilt. I read a story about a young woman with severe epilepsy who uses the disability seating on Vancouver’s public transit amid the dirty looks from bystanders who are ignorant to her invisible condition. She states that while there’s not enough room in the back to have a seizure without getting hurt, she’s now calling on TransLink to provide proper signage for people with invisible illnesses, such as hers.
The numerous times I’ve sat in a disability seat, I don’t recall ever being given dirty looks, but perhaps I haven’t been paying proper attention to those around me. This might be a fault on my behalf. However, I do see a sadly difficult circumstance when it comes to asking TransLink to ‘properly’ accommodate all customers on public transit.
The fact of the matter is that invisible disabilities are just that — invisible. Unfortunately, the general public is ignorant of these issues, and that’s just the way it is. After all, how could they know? To ask TransLink to update their safety signage to include those with invisible problems is a safe request, but it’s equivalent to asking people to ‘be considerate’ of others when using transit services, something TransLink already does.
If the transit-goers don’t notice there’s a problem, then the problem won’t be solved.
And while this is a fair use of sign space, I’m saddened to say that many perfectly healthy people don’t take it to heart. The public in this city like to keep to themselves while they travel; most won’t be bothered to keep an awareness of others while on transit, and most don’t want any part in drama should it occur.
The unfortunate truth is that if the transit-goers don’t notice there’s a problem, then the problem won’t be solved. If you have an invisible disability, it’s best that you, yourself, make others aware by using your own signage — whether it be a tattoo, a paper sign, or some other indicator. Yes, I understand that many disadvantaged people may feel ‘branded’ or ‘outcast.’ They may not feel comfortable publicly displaying their personal problems, and they probably don’t want to be reminded of them each time they use transit.
However, it’s sadly out of TransLink’s reach to help these people. Invisible disabilities are a tricky subject to navigate when it comes to public spaces. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that when these issues meet the need for public recognition, they’re impossible to solve without somebody feeling violated or isolated in the end.
While I’ll be sure to leave the disability seat to someone else from now on, if I’m sitting in another space and you indicate to me that you need it more than I do, I will respect those needs. But you can’t expect TransLink to influence people to do this for you.
A lot of people are ignorant about disabilities. There is a lot of bigotry out there as well. Saying the disabled shouldn’t expect help from society is like saying people who experience racism shouldn’t expect help from society, either. Do notice, in a lot of talks about inclusion, race is mentioned, gender is mentioned, sexual expression and orientation are starting to be mentioned, but disability is still mostly ignored. Let’s look at the case of the person with epilepsy – sitting at the front means not risking further injury in case of an episode – and sitting at the back means risking what? bruises, broken bones, possible head injury? Yet the author of this article argues that Translink has no responsibility in providing safe transport for this person – not when it comes to monitoring seating that has been set aside. Let’s keep in mind that this person also probably does not have a driver’s license. Let’s keep in mind the seats for the disabled are at the front because there is acknowledgement they may not be able to walk as well or as far as others, may have mobility issues, and are more likely to fall or otherwise be injured otherwise. Trust me when I tell you, disabled people NOT needing to sit at the front, WON’T…. because (for the most part) they get what being disabled means on a whole other level. People could get id’s, but only need to show them if there is an issue – and the id need not reveal the reason for the person’s need to use the reserved seating. And also, perhaps society needs to look at itself and we all need to ask what kind of a world we are building – one based on mutual respect and compassion? or one that is unaware and uncaring, and wants to stay that way? And let us not forget the bus drivers – who have the job of driving in all kinds of weather and traffic conditions. And yet are expected to deal with a lot of other issues – fare collection, unruly passengers, etc etc. In old movies, when there are buses, there is the driver and at least one other person. Perhaps we need to go back to that.
The author is responding to a piece (I read it) which said that people with invisible disabilities should be accommodated. The answer was, “If you have an invisible disability, it’s best that you, yourself, make others aware by using your own signage — whether it be a tattoo, a paper sign, or some other indicator.” Which tells me that the author didn’t pay much attention to the piece at all.
The person who the article on CBC was about, has a tattoo. It is not “across her face” it is nicely on her wrist. Perhaps the author thinks the only way it would *really* work is if it was flashing neon.
As, James Preston commented previously, there is little discussion about treating disabilities as a social justice issue outside of the disability community. This quite honestly is a bit of a problem that is starting (it seems) to be shifting. CBC often talks about disability issues, and often through considering them to be social justice issues.
Yet this author, seems to see that it is OK to discriminate against people who don’t yell and scream that they shouldn’t be discriminated against. The somewhat “wise” idea of people identifying themselves does actually make some sense in the case where a person has not done anything to make their issues clear.
I have a number of issues myself (mobility, pain, etcetera) which would make it entirely appropriate for me to sit in the front of the bus in the disability seating, but due to the fact that some of those issues end up getting more triggered by the typical people who do end up at the front of the bus (it tends to be people who want to talk who end up at the front of the bus, and this leads to sensory overload often when I sit in the front of the bus) I will often sit at the back of the bus, when I am even able to ride the bus.
I do not use any mobility aids. I will often give up my seat for another person automatically without even being asked, and almost always when I am asked. I trust that if I am seeing someone who is in more need of a seat than I am, I likely am the only person who will give up that seat.
I also trust that there may well be some reason a person is asking me to give up the seat that means they need it more than I do if they have bothered to ask.
In both cases, I could well be wrong. But I’d rather (like most people with disabilities) err on the side of giving up my seat to someone who doesn’t really need it, than err on the side of failing to give up a seat to someone who does need it.
What I am getting from this article is that the author feels like the disabled person should wear something that announces to the world that they are disabled so the author doesn’t feel bad about sitting in a disabled seat? How about the author just doesn’t sit there and simply and silently acknowledges that those that do suffer from a disability (whether invisible or visible). Some people do not like to talk about their disability, and being forced to tell it to the world simply because someone does not feel like being courteous/accommodating/a decent human being is mind boggling.