
I grew up in love with dance. It set me free. I still love to dance even now, despite my injury, using my newly acquired chair dance moves. But now when I dance anywhere in public, and I mean anywhere outside of my living room, the entire experience has soured. I’m now overwhelming pitied every time I go out dancing. To some, seeing someone in a wheelchair try to dance is like watching a short person reach for the top shelf.
The good news is that not everyone feels this way. I’ve met a few good apples along the way who actually felt good things about seeing someone in a wheelchair bustin’ a move. There were like, “Damn you rock,“ or, “Pop a wheelie and I’ll spin you.” Super fun stuff. Sure, they were all probably drunk, but at least they saw the glass half full like me. But the looks I get from the “pitiers” I’ll admit, can really put a damper on your spirit.
A look of pity sears into your mind. They don‘t go away. And despite mentally suffering from the way they think, I don‘t blame them. I was once able-bodied. I know how the mind goes to that place. But here’s the thing - them feeling pity is what crosses my mind whenever I dance in public now. Case in point, a wedding reception I went to over the weekend.
It was a country wedding, meaning the guests were not used to seeing a woman in a powerchair, let alone one in a tight black dress. I’ll sometimes shrug off looks and relish making a statement, but in some instances, like this one, my shyness got the best of me. I felt their eyes on me all day. So instead of dancing at the reception, I watched from my table. I’d rather be dancing at a club downtown.
When they finally got to the Chicken Dance, a drunk woman came up to me and said, “It must be hard being in a wheelchair, not being able to dance and all.” I wanted to correct her, tell her it was still possible, that I could still most certainly dance, but I had no energy to care. If I had told her what was really going on, that I didn’t want to feel looks of pity, what would she have said?
Sometimes its time for deep discussions when you have a disability, and then there are times to simply withdraw, and to dance alone to Run DMC when you get home.