Navigating a world that often isn’t looking

Reading “The High Rise” blog by Andrew about politeness in public, and I was inspired to write about my experiences as someone now living with disability.

The past year has been a whirlwind of adjustments since my amputation and the subsequent use of a prosthetic. While the physical challenges have been immense, I’ve also encountered a surprising number of social obstacles.

I’ve noticed a different response in people’s behavior towards those with visible disabilities. It’s almost as if having a wheelchair or a crutch automatically grants you a hall pass to politeness. People are far more likely to apologize for bumping into you or taking up too much space. While I appreciate the sentiment, it highlights a broader issue: our society often defaults to treating people with hidden disabilities.

Public transport has been a particularly interesting microcosm. It seems as if everyone is glued to their phones, oblivious to the world around them. This is especially frustrating when trying to secure a disability seat. It’s often necessary to explicitly ask people to stand up, and even then, it’s rare for someone to offer their seat without prompting.

Often I find it’s older people who are more likely than younger people to get up and offer me a seat. As someone with a disability, I always look around to see if someone else needs a seat more, and have sometimes been the only one to offer their seat to someone else.

This disconnection from the physical world extends to pedestrians. People are so engrossed in their devices that they rarely look up, creating potential hazards for those with mobility challenges. I’ve even had someone physically push me out of their way, completely disregarding my presence. It’s a stark reminder that for some, appearances matter more than people.

To avoid these kinds of encounters, I’ve learned to steer clear of certain places and times. Newtown on a Saturday night, for instance, is a recipe for disaster. Alcohol and inattention are a dangerous combination

If I’m going into a busy space, I’ll generally take my crutch/walking stick, even though I don’t need it, just to signal to others I have some mobility requirements.

While these experiences have been frustrating, they’ve also been eye-opening. It’s a harsh reality check about how we interact with each other in public spaces. It’s a call for greater awareness and empathy. We need to start looking up from our screens and really seeing the people around us.