For the last number of months, I have had to rely on both a wheelchair and the assistance of others to get around.
Fortunately, for me, those days are almost behind me.
When you are ill, you spend a lot of time thinking about what you’ve lost.
I’ve lost time chasing our grandkids around, celebrating life’s little victories, working on things I care about with people I admire.
But if you work at it, there is a place you can arrive where you can focus on what you gain.
I’m there.
Today, I understand more deeply what it means to lose mobility, and the barriers faced at every turn.
This isn’t the first time I’ve experienced these obstacles. As a child, I had accessibility challenges that were fortunately fully resolved. But I will never forget the feelings of frustration, inconvenience, and helplessness. Or being called a “cripple” by other children who didn’t know about the power of their words.
So, I am here, both with humility and determination, to try and make a small difference about something I know well — the power of that language.
A few weeks ago, I asked the concierge at a venue for directions.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, “you must be looking for the handicapped entrance.”
Now, let’s get something straight: she was perfectly accommodating and helpful. And I don’t, for a second, believe she was trying to offend me. But still, the word “handicapped” stung just as “cripple” had stung 55 years ago and the pain struck me with unexpected intensity. It made me feel small. And yet, it put into perspective something I had never truly understood — until now.
My life, my line of work, is about finding the right word. The notion of the wrong word was always just something that missed the bullseye, that which was close, but not quite there. And so, I focused instead on the power of the right word delivered at the right time.
Now, I see things differently.
Now, I realize that the wrong word at the wrong time carries much more power.
From my vantage point, which was, until very recently, not from the perspective of someone who relied on a wheelchair, accessibility issues only seemed to surface in our national conversation when a major company — usually an airline — had failed a customer with accessibility needs in a catastrophic way.
The naming and shaming that follow from these unfortunate incidents is, of course, an important part of making things right. But it’s not everything. The issue is far more pervasive, and each of us has a part to play in the broader solution.
Though it doesn’t always feel like it when we’re furiously typing on social media, the reality is that words are a personal responsibility. In this context, they play a crucial role in combating ableism and ensuring that every Canadian receives the respect, dignity, and equality that is their fundamental right.
Language, of course, evolves. Something that may have been progressive or acceptable 20 years ago might now be seen as outdated or offensive. This extends to other equity-seeking groups as well. For example, members of the LGBT+ community reclaimed “queer” from a word of derision to one of pride and celebration. It’s a complicated issue, and while there’s no one-size-fits-all solution, we can and should strive to do better.
Being mindful of our own language is a significant part of the solution. Words have been used to marginalize and belittle people for generations. Even when the intention isn’t harmful, certain words can conjure painful memories or reinforce damaging stereotypes.
Though it’s just one piece of the puzzle, inclusive language matters.
Many accessibility advocates have spoken about how their wheelchairs and mobility devices aren’t tools of convenience but rather extensions of their body. That they allow them to be independent. Gain access to space. Realize their potential.
Unlike so many for whom this is a lifelong reality, my reliance on a wheelchair has been temporary. But with determined effort, I won’t forget this experience and what it taught me. That words matter. The right ones and the wrong.
It’s the power we have to speak our truth and do our part to make this world a little more inclusive.
