Barriers Unseen
by Olegario "Ollie" D. Cantos VII, Esq.
Without a doubt, no one may credibly disagree with the assertion that we as people with disabilities must have the same rights and responsibilities as everyone else, but what exactly does that mean? How will society come to embody a celebration of differences and a spirit of equality rather than paternalism? This question is sometimes as difficult to answer as it is to solve, because paternalism is not always obvious and degrading as in someone blatantly saying, "Awww, look at the handicapped person. Let's do what we can to minimize what must be a debilitating condition characterized by a lower quality of life." Rather, the paternalism (though not consciously intended by any means) takes form in more subtle but no less harmful ways. The attitudes, both of people with and without disabilities, are key to making the difference between failure and success, ignorance and understanding, and limited beliefs and boundless expectations. The following true story illustrates why legislation, litigation, and direct advocacy are only PART of the ultimate solution. The rest must take form in good old-fashioned basic education.
One day, as part of my participation in a local Big Brother organization in Los Angeles several years ago, I took my then-11-year-old little brother, Seth, to a bowling alley where (contrary to baseball) strikes were the goal rather than the critical event to avoid. When I was done with my first frame, Seth told me that people were watching me and smiling, apparently because they had not seen a blind person bowl before. After our first game, we agreed to ask the alley staff to put in the bumpers so as to remove the proven likelihood that the ball would consistently roll into the gutter in spite of repeated and passionate efforts to have the ball do otherwise. When the bumpers were installed, the gentleman said to me, "This'll be great, because it'll help you not to bowl gutter balls." At first glance, there really seems to be nothing wrong with this statement, because it was true. With the bumpers firmly in place, any time the ball rolls to one side or the other, it would simply deflect from the side, thereby significantly increasing the chances that more pins would be knocked down. Also, since I am not able to see where the pins are, it may arguably "level the playing field" by compensating for my not seeing where I should bowl the ball.
Here is the unexpected twist: The bumpers were NOT installed for me but for my little brother. He was a beginner and was not happy with his score during the first game, and he wanted to have the bumpers put in so as to help him out a bit. Meanwhile, I have been a bowler for many years and, as a matter of personal practice and preference, unless wanted by those accompanying me who wished to use bumpers themselves, I do not use bumpers, because I want to learn how to do better without modifications to the game. Notice what the gentleman did NOT say when talking to me about the bumpers. He never said that I could not bowl well, nor did he say that he thought that I should bowl apart from those without disabilities. He never made a wisecrack remark, nor do I imagine he would have ever wanted to. He never spoke to me as if I were a child, and I would venture to say that he did not give a second thought to his passing remark. Yet, what he did not say was just as important as what he DID say. Because I was blind and my brother was not, he merely ASSUMED that the bumpers were for me. Why WAS that? The logic in his mind would undoubtedly dictate (however unconsciously) that, because I was not able to see and because bumpers were needed, they must have been for MY benefit. Did the gentleman mean any ill will towards me at all? Not in the least. In fact, I am sure that he would be the first to assert that I had the right to be there at that alley just like everyone else. Yet, his beliefs about blind people came through loud and clear (though none of this was ever directly stated). When the people looked at me and smiled as I bowled, would these total strangers have done so if I did not have a visible disability? I would suspect not. In the case both of the gentleman and the fellow bowlers, no bad feelings were ever intended, nor did this lead me to have any feeling of bitterness toward them at all. However, these small but powerful instances illustrate how far we still need to go.
Confidence in ourselves finds its heart in our attitude. Once the bumpers were put in, something remarkable happened to Seth's score. It went up significantly, jumping from a mere 37 in the first game to a whopping 119 in the second. Among my buddy's frames within this glorious second game were 3 strikes --strikes that seemed like distant ideal dreams in the first game. He was proud of his accomplishments, and so was I, and I told him so with all the pride and enthusiasm that a big brother could muster. "Hey, bud, you got it from ME, you know," I joked as I put my hand on his shoulder and smiled.
Here is something that you may find quite surprising. Before reading ahead, think of whether or not you thought Seth's strikes were due to the ball moving down the lane every which way. With each of the 3 strikes that he earned, the ball went STRAIGHT toward the pins. No trajectories in which the ball ricocheted left, then, right, then left or vice versa. No deflection. The ball decisively met its target with all the precision of a top professional bowler. What was the difference here? I WAS still at the same bowling alley at the same lane. The only change was the set of bumpers put into place. But, with the bumpers' presence, Seth bowled like there was no tomorrow, like there was nothing stopping him. NO more fear of the gutter, because that fear was gone. That limiting belief now out of the way, he was able to do far better, because he believed in himself much more. The day will come when those bumpers will no longer be needed to enable him to feel secure in his ability to bowl and, just as is true with the kid who learns how to bike confidently who first started with training wheels, Seth will move on to excel without the barrier of limited beliefs to stop him. The lesson that his experience teaches us is that, sometimes, the only thing stopping any of us from reaching our most ambitious dreams is ... ourselves.
People with and without disabilities must constantly assess how they are to identify and confront negative attitudes. What happened to me as a person who is blind may just as easily have happened to people with any disability and of any age. The disability may vary as may the particular circumstances and situations, but the fundamental tenets are the same. Limited beliefs cross all disabilities and have a direct impact on the views of and about the disability community. These unseen barriers are also a factor behind limited expectations within social, educational, political, and economic contexts.
Our reaction to all of this, of course, is not to become embittered or to lead members of the general public to think that we as people with disabilities and those who love and support us must have some sort of chip on our proverbial shoulders. We need constantly to educate the public about our abilities and to strive to enable people to understand that the most basic of daily tasks and recreational activities are not something to be praised simply because we do them. Instead, we should be praised for the true quality of what we do (judged on the same expectations as others) and, in a recreational setting, our having fun should simply be looked at as our enjoying life to the same degree as those without disabilities. People should not view disability as a basis for our somehow being unluckier than the rest of the population. Gone are the old notions of disability either as a curse or a blessing. We are neither tragically deprived nor wondrously gifted simply by virtue of the disabilities we possess. To cause a revolution in the societal mindset, we as members of a united community (both with and without disabilities) must renew our commitment to the ideal of equality of opportunity in every setting. Meanwhile, we as people with disabilities will assert our right to participate fully in the life of our respective communities, NOT under the rubric of "beating the odds" but in the spirit of simply doing what others do, fulfilling and exceeding expectations as others fulfill and exceed them, living as others live, striving for our dreams in the same way that others do, and persisting to achieve our goals as all of us should.
As a society, our attitudes may be our greatest assets, or they may be the chief contributors to our worst downfall. The choice is ours.
[Note: In 2004, out of 15,000 mentor-mentee matches, Ollie was named California Big Brother of the Year.]