The way the human brain copes with guilt from disability never ceases to amaze me. They feel bad for us; they walk and we can’t. Yes, it’s a crappy injustice, but you don’t see us bawling over it.
Yet for once able-bodied people have gotten it right when it comes to helping out people with disabilities — they think we should have a mentor with a disability similar to ours. They rightly believe that giving us a new “wheelchair” friend or a disabled friend will help us in figuring out our new lives. But after we’ve been mentored, at what point are we ready to become a mentor ourselves?
To answer that question, I have no idea. I think some people — no matter how much time passes — will never be good mentors. To be one requires coming to peace with living with your disability, and we all know we have a few bitter brethren out there who may never get to that point. I can’t blame them; some days I feel I’ve barely made peace with my disability. You definitely have the good days and bad.
But despite my doubts, I’ve been a mentor for awhile now, a few times intentionally, but most of the time unintentionally. People read about me, see my webs