In the Land of the Blind...wheelchair bound: The importance of language

A few years ago, I went on a summer trip with the group Ski for Life in the Pocono Mountains. Ski for Life is an adaptive sports program for visual and mobility impaired folks. I was the only mobility impaired person along - the rest had visual impairments.

One day we went to a local pond. One of the volunteers offered to take me out on a tandem kayak, so I rolled down to the water and with assistance, transferred into the kayak. We paddled out onto the pond and left my empty wheelchair by the water's edge.

We paddled down to the other end of the pond to see some wildlife. All of a sudden we heard a commotion back on shore. I looked over and there were three of my visually impaired friends, gathered around my empty wheelchair, yelling my name loudly.

I watched, puzzled, as they got down on all fours and began to "search" the area - for me! The volunteer hastily paddled us back to shore so that we could reassure them I was okay. We reached them just before they started to wade into the pond to find me.

A few minutes later I was back in my wheelchair, surrounded by folks.

"Where did you go? " one person asked.

"I was in the kayak," I replied. As grateful as I was for their kind concern, I still didn't understand why they became so upset.

"In the kayak? Without your wheelchair?"

"Of course."

She looked puzzled. "But you're wheelchair bound, aren't you?"

Smiling, I realized that she took the term literally. "I can get out of my wheelchair!" I said, laughing.

We underestimate the importance of language. To her, because she could not see, the words meant that I took my wheelchair everywhere I went.

I took a few minutes to explain to her how everything worked - and looked. After feeling foolish for a moment, she said "Well what was I supposed to think? You shouldn't go off abandoning your wheelchair like that anyhow." She strode off with her guide dog, her mouth set in a determined way.

"Just stay in your wheelchair unless you tell us where you're going, " Tom ordered me. "You scared us to death!"

It constantly amazes me the assumptions all of us make about each other and our disabilties. Thank God we can learn to laugh about it!