Passing Judgment

Yesterday morning I decided that I needed to reinstate the Christmas spirit in my house. I checked the kitchen for ingredients, went through my cookbooks and made a list. I got Robby bundled up and we headed to the grocery store. It wasn't hard to convince Robby to come along because he knew that we were going to be spending the afternoon baking cookies!

It has become so cold that it is painful to be outside. The wind was whipping around, causing the cold air to push straight through the thickest layers. Pulling into the grocery store parking lot, I didn't even need to consider my options. I instinctively pulled into a handicapped parking space.

I have had a handicapped parking placard for several years. Although I don't always utilize the spaces, I do consider myself entitled. I have a disability that affects my mobility and, at times, the convenience of the spaces is helpful. Yesterday was bone chilling cold and I wanted to minimize my time outside.

It is not unusual for me to receive glares of disapproval from my fellow shoppers. At times I thoroughly enjoy watching the "parking police," as I have come to call them, stare at me as I pull out my handicapped placard. It is almost as if I can see their mind turning as "guess the disability" scenarios run through their minds.

As soon as I disembark my car and my prosthetic is visible, I receive the knowing nod of approval as they quickly look away. When my leg is covered, I often receive judgmental stares as I walk into the store. I have, on occasion, turned and pulled up my pant leg to show the judgmental parking police my disability.

Yesterday I was too cold to appease the spectators. I pulled into the space, grabbed Robby and raced into the store. It wasn't until after we were inside and shopping that I realized that I had been watched. Pushing the cart through an aisle, I "overheard" an elderly couple talking about people abusing their parent's handicapped tags. I knew that their comments were directed at me.

Trying to revitalize my sense of Christmas spirit, I held my tongue. I even stopped to adjust my prosthetic, which was fitting fine, to provide proof of my disability. The sight of them scurrying away as soon as I removed my leg was fun to witness!

I encountered a similar situation flying home from Columbus on Monday. We were flying on Southwest which does not assign seats to passengers. Basically a long line forms as herds of anxious passengers vie for a good seat. Because I have a disability I am afforded the benefit of "pre-board" status enabling me to board before others.

As we handed the attendant our pre-board access card, Scott and I both felt the disdain from the gaggle of not so jolly passengers waiting to board. I was wearing jeans so my prosthetic was not visible. Scott remarked that the other passengers are probably wondering why we get to go first and that they probably angry. I think he was right. I began to limp as an attempt to demonstrate my disability.

As cookies were being baked, decorated and cooled throughout the afternoon, I kept thinking about these two experiences. Is it human nature to pass judgment? When my disability isn't visible, it is often assumed that I am somehow being dishonest. I regret that I felt the need to prove my handicap, but at the time it just seemed easier. Hopefully this couple, along with my fellow passengers on the plane, will hesitate before doubting or judging another person using a handicapped "privileges."