Since the day I became paralyzed for life fifteen years ago last month, I, like you, have railed against the stereotypes more or less thrusted on my new, now old, self. Obviously the ones I saw first grew out of my immediate experience. Out in the world, I was either ignored like an outcast or patronized and talked down to like an feeble-minded octogenarian. “Oh, dearie, let me hold that door for you?...Is that book too heavy for you? Let me carry it… You know, God only gives us what we can handle…By the way, you are doing a super job with this horrible thing!”

That still goes on, probably in your life as well as mine, and will probably always go on until the cultural assumption of the helpless, hopeless, sickly paralytic has faded from history. And in most cases, this “killing by kindness” attitude is not a major impediment to moving through life, just a irritant. On the other hand, it’s the unspoken, maybe even unconscious, attitudes toward the disabled that are the real barriers to acceptance. What’s that job interviewer who opens the door and treats you like a conquering hero really thinking? Is it, “I can’t hire this guy – it’ll make everyone in the office sad”? Or, “Nice guy, but he’ll probably be sick half the time, miss a lot of days, and ruin our winning sales record!” Or, finally, “I know he feels entitled to this job and if I give it to him, he’ll be asking for one “right” after another and drive me *#&*! nuts! Or sue!”

It’s damn near impossible to alter a person’s thinking when either a) they won’t admit they are thinking that, or b) aren’t even conscious of it. Probably the only way “they” will start thinking of “us” as flesh and blood individuals and not part of an ever-threatening one-dimensional identity group who all think and act alike is when there appears to be enough diversity in our ranks that none of us can be so easily pigeon-holed and dismissed.

In a recent conversation with a gentleman who actually works with mobility-challenged clients but defines himself as a hardcore conservative, he said something that took me aback. “Every disabled person I’ve ever met,” he said, “is a Democrat. Why? Because they like the government services they get and want even more of them.” I started to attack his simple-minded premise and leap all over him with facts and figures, but I had no ready counter-argument. The fact is, every disabled person I’ve ever known who expressed a political opinion was a Democrat or at least a liberal. And even the ones who weren’t getting direct support from the government certainly thought it was a good and necessary idea. Me, too! In fact I think there should be a hell of a lot more government programs, from ubiquitous job training and placement services to making it mandatory that every other cab in Manhattan is accessible.

But here’s the rub. If we are all easily lumped together as lockstep FDR ditto heads, then at least half of the American public will see us, as a group, as either troublemakers or charity cases. As Marshall McLuhan once said, “To label is to libel.” As with any minority group, the label disappears when it’s no longer applicable. Bill Cosby changed the image of blacks forever when he showed up on TV as a rich doctor. Herman Cain added another wrinkle as a rich Republican. Not all blacks fit the conventional mode and no matter what you think of “Mr. 9-9-9,” that’s a good thing.

I recently wrote a cover story for New Mobility on the wheelchair-using character on “Glee,” Artie Abrams, and how he was something of a beacon of hope about disability inclusion in at least American high schools. I bent over backwards (which is hard to do in a wheelchair) to air the view that it was an outrage that the actor playing Artie was not disabled, but still argued he was a media milestone.

I knew some people would be upset with this actor-character dichotomy, no matter how I tried to explain it, but the vitriol was much more intense than I ever imagined. How could you celebrate “a minor walkie actor who plays a nerdy minor token crip?” wrote one reader. “Poor form,” wrote another. “How about doing a little work next time” and feature “a disabled father of four…who goes to work to support his kids!”

Everyone is entitled to his or her opinion, but comments like the above seemed to prove my point about a fixed disability mindset. A character in a wheelchair on TV can’t be a nerd? And an often dyspeptic one at that? Every New Mobility profile has to be about a hero? What if he or she were just a rich doctor or maybe a notorious vulture capitalist who laughs at the notion that his disability was ever a handicap in his pursuit of greed? Wouldn’t that guy make an interesting, unorthodox, not-cut-from-the-same-cloth story?

The point is, we are not all the same, shouldn’t be the same, and shouldn’t be perceived as the same in the eyes of a world that would rather not bother with us. I’m not suggesting that millions of crips become Republicans or budding Donald Trumps, just that we begin to celebrate how we aren’t alike – in taste, ambition, talents, and even politics -- as much as we espouse our common cause. Then put that on TV.

© 2012 Allen Rucker |

Purchase Allen's book:
The Best Seat in the House:
How I Woke Up One Tuesday and Was Paralyzed for Life