(continuing... [Final])
Practical Guidelines
When meeting people with disabilities, the best thing to do is to be an open slate. Be willing to learn and make no assumptions. For instance, don't assume that all people who use wheelchairs can't walk, or that someone with a cane needs help crossing a street. There are no fixed rules.
And remember three things: i) Believe it or not, disability is not contagious; ii) most people with disabilities want to promote understanding. So if you have questions about a disability, just ask -- of course, within polite boundaries and only if your question is relevant to the conversation; and iii) people with disabilities would rather dwell on their strengths than weaknesses. Then again... don't we all?
If you think someone needs help, ask. It is always okay to ask; it is not okay to assume. Once you ask, don't act until your offer is accepted. Some people prefer to go it alone; simply follow their instructions. Always speak to the person you're addressing, not to a companion or interpreter (if there is one).
Mobility impairments. When arranging to meet someone with a disability, be sure the location is accessible (including parking lots and bathrooms). For people with mobility limitations, ask if they require accommodations (such as elevators or ramps). If you think a problem may arise, change the venue and inform the person ahead of time. Here are some helpful hints about people who use wheelchairs and scooters, which are a source of freedom and mobility for those who can't walk or have difficulty with movement or endurance. A wheelchair is part of an individual's personal space. It is good to respect that space. It is not polite to touch or lean on someone's wheelchair without permission. Always ask before you move a person in a wheelchair -- out of courtesy, but also because this may affect their balance. If a person is transferring from a wheelchair to a car or chair, don't move the chair beyond easy reach. And if you are having a long conversation with someone in a wheelchair, it will make both of you feel more comfortable if you are at eye level.
Speech impairments. Remember to be patient when a person with speech impairment is speaking. Don't finish a person's sentence or anticipate their response, although it's okay to repeat or rephrase their words to be sure you understand. If you have difficulty understanding what someone is saying, don't be afraid to ask them to repeat it one or more times. Never pretend or presume to understand when you don't. And, finally, be aware that most people with speech impairments can actually hear; exaggerated volume doesn't make it easier for them to understand.
Visual impairments. When you meet people with visual impairment, remember that there are many degrees of visual impairment. White canes are used by people who have restricted vision as well as by those who are totally blind. When approaching a person with vision impairment, announce yourself and introduce anyone else who may be with. Before shaking hands, say something like: "I'd like to shake your hand." Inform the person who is visually impaired when you are about to leave. If asked, offer your arm as a guide (never simply take the person's arm) and inform the person of any obstacles such as curbs, steps, or low arches. When offering a seat, place the person's hand on the back or arm of the chair. And, though tempting, don't pet or speak to a person's guide do without the permission of the person. Guide dogs are at work, even when sleeping under chairs.
Hearing impairments. For people with hearing impairment, again remember that there are various degrees of hearing impairment. Some people develop hearing loss after learning to speak. Others are deaf or hearing-impaired from birth and may communicate by sign language. And keep in mind that even when people use a hearing aid, sounds may seem distorted. To secure the attention of someone with hearing impairment, touch that person lightly, or use another physical sign or gesture. Always speak clearly and closely. Again, exaggerated articulation or gesticulation does not make it easier to understand you.
A Vision for the Kingdom
It should be the dream and desire of us all, -- someday soon, we hope -- to see the ways of inaccessibility and discrimination, of ignorance and segregation, of patronizing and exclusion, pass away through the example and covenant of Christ (2 Cor. 5.17). "For you are all one in Christ ... There is no such thing as Jew or Greek, slave or free, male or female" [and St. Paul could quite easily have added "disabled or non-disabled"] (Gal. 3.28)
We should all promote and work sincerely for a Church where there is ample room for all. After all, this is the literal meaning of the Greek work for forgiveness (syn-chore-sis). The Church should have a breadth that makes all its members comfortable, and where no member is stifled or excluded.
Nor is this vision a goal merely for the future. For us, especially, as members of the Greek Orthodox Archdiocese of America, it is an established policy. The Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) was the first comprehensive civil rights legislation to protect people with disabilities. Even before it was signed into law in 1990, the Clergy-Laity Congress of the Greek Orthodox Archdiocese in North America, held in San Francisco in 1982, accepted a recommendation by its General Assembly that parishes make every effort to become more accessible to people with disabilities.
One Parent's Reflections
Whenever I imagine persons with disabilities, I think of Christ Jesus. As Christians, we worship a God who became flesh and lay powerless, motionless, and utterly disabled on the Cross. Ours is not a God of power and might, but of vulnerability and woundedness. So often we choose to forego or forget the crucifixion, preferring to turn directly to the resurrection. Christ rose from the dead with His wounds. We too shall discover Him in our wounds, and we shall discern His presence in our vulnerability and courage to live the lives we have been given.
Whenever I reflect on persons with disabilities, I think primarily of persons, not of disabilities. People with disabilities are human beings, as we all are. Individuals with disabilities are created in the image of God, as we all are. Our brothers and sisters who live with disabilities are fragile, as we all are. I have learned that a person's disability is seldom the source of his or her greatest pain. The greatest pain is fear: fear of rejection, the fear of being a burden, the fear of losing one's former identity, often the fear that nobody values them; it is the absence of love, and trust, and touch. Show me any person -- "abled" or "disabled" -- who cannot identify with this profound sense of suffering!
Whenever I consider the way we treat persons with disabilities, I think of human -- all too human -- walls. Walls that shut people in. Walls that prevent people from meeting and talking to others. In days gone by, people with disabilities were sometimes kept behind actual walls, inside institutions. Now they are a part of mainstream society. Yet they may still find themselves isolated, alienated, imprisoned in sadness, without a sense of community and belonging. Now there are walls of shame. Walls of prejudice. Walls of hatred. Walls of competition. Walls of fear. Walls of ignorance. Many are excluded from churches, whether because the buildings are inaccessible or -- worse -- because the parishes are -- or appear -- unwelcoming. However, largely due to the ADA laws that facilitated public awareness, many of these physical and emotional walls are crumbling, bringing solace and solidarity to disabled individuals and their families.
Finally, whenever I address persons with disabilities, I think of a young man that I know so well and love so dearly. And I think of the many children with disabilities in our communities, both known and unknown to me. The young man that I know has a name and a story. And I know that he also prefers that we notice his face, and not his braces or his canes. He is a young man with dreams. He also has cerebral palsy. He knows his limitations, just as he recognizes the limitations of those around him. He appreciates that not everyone has the capacity to embrace him. This, he is convinced, is their disability, not his. He has dignity for self and reverence for others. Above all, he has a sense of gratitude. He has learned to balance a healthy sense of dependence with a liberating sense of independence. He challenges my understanding of love and respect. His disability allows him to see more clearly, live more freely, be more human and, therefore, so much more like God. How can I ever be thankful enough to God for this?