COVID Was the Great Equalizer
I am a disabled artist. Full stop.
The nature of my disabilities affect the way I’m able to move within a community, and I’ve learned how to adapt my life so well that other folks perceive me to be pretty “normal”. People don’t really notice it until I start getting tired. When I get to that point I can’t talk anymore or hold things - I don’t use glasses to drink water out of because I’ve dropped so many.
Ableism is a form of oppression that doesn’t get talked about enough. When COVID happened, and everyone had to stay home, able-bodied people learned what it feels like to be restricted to the same four walls. No going to the movies, to school, to work - they couldn’t come and go as they pleased.
I’ve Always had to Isolate
Every year from October to April, I stay home to avoid the worst of the flu season. If I do visit with people, there are no hugs and no handshakes.
I have chemically induced asthma. This means that anything with fragrance, from perfume to febreeze to dryer sheets, causes a severe, life-threatening reaction in my body. I’m not sure which specific chemical I’m allergic to because the process to find out involves me sitting in a room and having a bunch of different chemicals sprayed into the air. There’s also a waiver I would have to sign that says if I were to lose my life as a result of the testing, the doctors can’t be held liable. No thanks!
Because of this condition I HAVE to isolate. I can’t be in a meeting with people or sit in a classroom. At any point in time, while in a room with other people, I could suddenly be triggered. This is terrifying, and I have PTSD from my last job where I worked on a floor with a hundred other folks who couldn’t abide by being scent free. I have a multi page document from my doctor that provides info about this condition and it says that if an employer can’t provide a scent-free environment, I need to work from home.
When my asthma gets triggered, inhalers and epi-pens don’t help. I do carry an epi-pen for other life-threatening allergies, but it does nothing for my asthma. I don’t even get hives, I immediately can’t breathe, I cough, choke, and I have to go to the ER to get oxygen and adrenaline. The reaction is so severe that I can’t even express what’s happening in the moment when it gets triggered.
This has been the norm for me for about 10 years, so when the pandemic hit and restrictions began, staying home was nothing new to me.
Everybody Had to Live Like Me
I’ve gotten more done in the last two years than I have in the last 10.
COVID was an equalizer because now everyone was stuck at home. Nobody could have meetings, go to class, go to the movies, etc. Everyone was forced into doing things virtually, just like I've always had to.
Restrictions could last forever for me, and I’d be just fine with it. Which might sound horrible to others, but I was finally able to build a business and get the education I needed in a way that worked for me.
That being said, just because I am “used to” living this way, that doesn’t mean it’s easy for me. It’s hard. So many folks want mandates and restrictions to be lifted because it’s so challenging to live this way. Where is the empathy and support for those of us who don’t have a choice?
Now, I’m bracing myself for the restrictions to be lifted because it means going back to being left behind again.
Demand Justice
Now, empathy and compassion are wonderful, but we need to go further: inclusivity and decolonization. This is so important.
We can start practicing these ideas by analyzing the current systems in place.
Who put these systems in place?
How were they built?
Why were they built this way?
How can we change them to include everyone?
By allowing everyone to show up as they are and making sure no one gets left behind is the essence of community.
Do The Work
We must consider the needs of those who are attempting to access services. We live in an ableist world. Take a moment to think about the stores you’ve been in, the learning environments, virtually any setting where someone would go to receive something. Is that business operating in an inclusive way, or an ableist way?
Is virtual attendance an option?
Is there an option to book an appointment for those who need extra time and assistance?
Is there parking?
Are there ramps, or only stairs?
Do the doors have automatic capabilities?
Is it a scent-free environment?
Is the music blaring?
Are the lights bright enough? Are they too bright?
Is there room to move around?
Is there a public washroom?
Are the folks working there warm and inviting?
Do the staff speak another language? Can they interpret sign language?
Do they understand that everyone has different needs?
Do they understand that everyone deserves access to their services?
For those of you that run your own business and want to work towards better accessibility, the key here is to slow down. Ask questions and don’t be dismissive. Please recognize that the disabled person in front of you is working so hard to accomplish things that you don’t even need to think twice about. Acknowledge that it’s challenging to ask for help in the first place, and even harder when they finally do and they’re met with a “no.”
Now, bear in mind that some things can’t be changed so easily, like location, for example. But it’s worth investing in the community by making businesses as accessible as possible. That money will come right back to the business as more folks feel safe to be there.
I’m hoping that there will be more compassion and that support and accommodations will continue to be made as we transition out of restrictions.