‘Whose idea was this hill?’
‘Yours,’ Neil and Isla chorused together, as we trudged around the zoo.
The zoo is Neil’s happy place, that’s fine, let’s go. These days, it’s also a place. Somewhere that isn’t this weirdly shaped corner apartment, so let’s go, anywhere.
I’ve been to the dentist and other places I’ve explained my fright reflex to bewildered people. I’ve been to get vaccinated, twice, happily.
I’ve watched Isla skip into school bubble birthday parties, and she even had one. Outside, in a tent. I choose to think the rain at the end was cleansing.
One afternoon, with Isla at a party we didn’t throw, Neil and I went to find bagels. We parked, on a hill, and went down the hill to a curb cut, which was blocked, by a car. We went around the car, and found the bagel place, in a new building. Up a bunch of stairs.
Now. Disclaimer here, I swore a little bit. And my husband pops a wheelie and we’re up the steps.
But I’m so incensed that an upgrade means steps, so sad that our first trip out-out is an inaccessible entrance. Nothing has changed.
‘Screw this, they don’t get my money.’ I’m bumped down the stairs.
We find a place with tables outside, and order. Not bagels.
Before the food comes, there’s this:
‘Where does this go?’
‘The girl in the wheelchair.’
First of all, I’m 40. That happened, too. So, thanks but no thanks for calling me a girl. Second, I’m also wearing sunglasses my kid picked out. They’re gold, because she says I’m golden. Neil bet Isla that I wouldn’t like them. But he lost. So, use them as an identifier. There’s my hair. And if we’re talking about the table, there’s also my husband in an obscure band t-shirt.
If you want to talk about my wheels, fine. I’m goddamn proud of them. They take me to places where I’ve seen some shit. Good shit.
But don’t forget the girl in the wheelchair is frustrated. Frustrated when you block my ramp, my school, my home, my career, my parenting, my bagels.
The girl in the wheelchair is sick of your ableist shit.
On that day I wrote this: Out for a walk and a car was parked on pavement and blocking curb cut. And one of my fave places moved to a building with steps where I will no longer be spending my money. We’re back, people. We never left. Don’t be ableist dicks. – on my Facebook page.
I have a love/hate relationship with leaving my house these days, reason being it’s not really my house, and we’ve recently started looking for another one, but outside is strangers who get too close. Inside is audiobooks and card games and hide-and-seek, which I kinda suck at, but anyway.
Outside is fresh air, and picnics and friends with books. And still, outside is inaccessible. Even though the year is what it is, even though we’ve done so much, and isn’t access nice? Well, access is a human right, so there’s that too. We’re still here.
And so, that day at the zoo, I felt every inch of that hill. I love Edinburgh, it gave me a husband and a daughter, we left and for some reason came back. I love it, but it’s basically hills that lead up to another giant hill.
I park and take a break, swear a little, a lot. Eat ice cream, it drips. Keep going. The front wheel snags, we swerve.
‘Should we go backwards?’ the kid asks.
‘Haha, no.’ I say.
And yet.
The accessible exit. Is closed.
We turn back. Down the hill.
‘Free-wheel!’ laughs Isla.
I let go. A bit.
We’re still here.
*
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4 Comments
Who wants bagels any way? Shops/businesses sometimes can’t alter the access but at least try to accommodate put what you can in place. After all it is just a human right. Would they offer someone a shewee because they hadn’t put in a ramp to the bathroom? Would anyone think that was good enough?
We (royal) may not be able to alter hills and steep is a thing in Edinburgh. But we sure as hell can speak with politeness, to the actual human being we are supposed to be addressing. There is no excuse for blocking anyone’s car let alone the car that has a lift fitted, a blue badge or a baby aboard sign. Would a police car be blocked in 🤔 No! Once upon a time people would adress a man with would your wife like tea? WTF that was stopped seen as condescending and sextet (but after all he was paying) 😬 Now it happens to people in wheelchairs, with white sticks, with hearing aids and believe it or not with scars and limps and disfigurement. When will we learn? All new premises should have access built in only older ones should need adaptations, but mostly basic manners and rights must not be a choice. No wonder you vent we must get this right.
I wouldn’t have written about them if I didn’t want them. But there’s only one place for real ones.
Also, the listed building defence doesn’t fly any more. Alterations for access are sanctioned.
Love you, love this. Can you believe I’m going through months-old emails?! I couldn’t just delete. I’ve been a very bad blogger and blog friend. Keep healthy and safe. Send cute kid stories!