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Back in high school, I participated in a disability simulation as part of a leadership program run by my city's chamber of commerce (yes, that sentence now produces three distinct cringes).
What it taught me was to fear the very life I now lead.
What it taught me was to fear the very life I now lead.
We were given wheelchairs and told to navigate a rehabilitation course, which was presented to us as an "obstacle course". The wheelchairs were heavy hospital chairs and far too large. The very first obstacle was a short ramp.
I was a competitive soccer goalkeeper and martial artist and also lifted weights, but I only made it a few feet up the ramp before my arms turned to jelly. I panicked, grabbed the railing, and then realized I couldn't take my hands off of the railing without rolling back down.
I stood up and called it quits. The facilitators didn't say "this chair is too heavy and large for your to use". They didn't mention that there was actually a way to use the railings to ascend the ramp. They were just like, yup... see how hard life is in a wheelchair?
Fast forward to actually being a wheelchair user now: I have a lightweight chair that fits me and is appropriately balanced, I have chair skills, and I'm... kinda ripped up top...? I also have a SmartDrive for steep ramps and long hills.
That rehab ramp would no longer be a match for me. It would actually be fun. I feel sorry for my fellow students, now also adults, who may never have another opportunity to use a wheelchair and are therefore unlikely to ever find out how it feels to move confidently with one.
I also can never forgive the facilitators for how many times I flashed back to that moment on the ramp when starting to realize that I actually needed a wheelchair. Up until the day mine arrived, I wondered if my life would be a series of panicked ramp incidents from then on.
Of course this hasn't been the case; I love my wheelchair. I love the control it gives me over my pain and fatigue. I also love going fast. I love riding across smooth surfaces. I love fidgeting and tipping back into a wheelie. I love leaning into a hill. I love the way I move.
And I know that not everyone feels comfortable doing this, but I love letting trusted friends try my wheelchair -- with my guidance and a grain of salt -- so that they can glimpse that joy rather than the fear I learned my first time. It's not a "simulation"; it's an invitation.
(FYI: if you're ambulatory/nondisabled and want to get some chair skills in a way that isn't meant to teach you to fear disability, wheelchair basketball is inclusive -- meaning you don't have to be a wheelchair user to participate. There are usually loaner chairs provided.)
