A wheelchair = liberation

Having kids with physical limitations is illuminating.

After a battle with insurance, they finally approved an adorable little yellow smiley face wheelchair for Sunny. I pushed for it because there are so many things we can’t do with her now: we can’t go to the mall, or the State Fair, or the little village festival behind our house, because Sunny can’t walk that far. She walks, but with a lot of pain from significant knee deformities.

What I didn’t bank on was the sense of freedom a mobility aid would give to my kid! She’s over the moon excited, asking to go to the zoo now, and to the mall to get boba tea, which are things we couldn’t do without difficulty and a lot of pain before. And she has grand plans for Legoland next summer. I’d better start saving for it now!

I’ve never though of a wheelchair as a mechanism for delivering freedom and elation before. I thought of wheelchairs as being restrictive, limiting access because handicap accessibility sucks generally. I’ve “felt bad for” folks bound to a wheelchair… until now.

Now I see that a wheelchair is giving my kid access to a bunch of fun activities like the local science museum, zoo, and mall. It also gives her access to the outdoors because uneven ground is nearly impossible for her. Now we can go to the local swimming hole, and can access any handicap accessible parks and outdoor events and even maybe a handicap accessible cabin for camping. Her entire world just got way bigger.

I guess the lesson here is: question your assumptions, especially if it relates to the lived experience of people who are different from you. They might have a very different perspective than you think they do. Don’t pity my kid because she’s using a wheelchair – she doesn’t feel bad about it. Just celebrate how much more she can do because of a mobility aid.