People who are minorities must fight every day of their lives. This fight, though, isn’t political, financial, but it sure as Hell is social and psychological. Personally, I find myself fighting to be heard, fighting to be taken seriously, and fighting the critical voices within my own mind, which are oftentimes my greatest enemies.
four-foot eleven, under a hundred pounds, a childlike voice, Asian, blind, left-handed…need I elaborate further? Add all of those into a generally placid, somewhat passive, mostly abhorrent of conflict package, and you’ve got yourself a train wreck in the making.
Having two eyes which don’t work like everyone’s, if at all, is much the same as having two left feet in a fancy-schmancy ballroom where your performance on the dance floor is as much a judgment upon your own worth as it is a disaster for your social standing in the group. You’re having a great time, but people secretly stare, point, and snicker at your ineptness at executing a proper waltz or tango. Should you ever use dance as a form of artistic expression, people end up taking your opinions on the matter for granted because you just can’t dance and will never dance. Likewise, people assume that blind people must automatically be incapable of doing things for themselves as others can because they cannot imagine themselves in a world where the lights have been forever turned out or obscured.
I dare you to try it. Just try it. Ask any of your friends to spend an entire day doing simple things around the house with the caveat that they must be blindfolded. Under no circumstances, within reason, must the blindfold be removed. They must use all senses but sight to accomplish their mission, keeping in mind traditionally accepted social norms such as using a fork and knife to eat steak etc. Unless you have the privilege of meeting a person who is very open to other points of view, nine times out of ten, your average Joe will politely decline for one reason or another. “what if I hurt myself,” they’ll say, or “It must be hard for you, but I really would rather not.”
Yeah, and why not? why the hell not? What’s your answer? Are you scared that it could one day happen to you? OK, and if you are, is it so bad to walk in another person’s shoes for a mile, six inches, or even two?
We moan and groan about how minorities make such a huge good-for-nothing fuss about their plight. Oh, really? OK, if you want to complain, why don’t you step in their shoes for a while if you believe it to be so tolerable. From dawn ’til dusk you fight. You fight an uphill battle against the shopper’s assistant at the grocery store who must help you find the items on your shopping list from treating you like you’re an overgrown and overdeveloped two-year-old. You fight to keep people from doing stupid things like carry you out of a van for fear that you might break. If you happen to have a childlike, light, bright, soprano voice, you fight for every word to carry just as much weight as those of a rumbling bass. Your anger is no longer the heartfelt emotions of a person but the minute, insignificant squeaking of a mouse, barely audible and barely worth your conscious attention.
Sometimes, I get tired of trying. Sometimes, I even get tired of fighting. Why must I constantly struggle just to get equal treatment and respect that others take for granted? All too often it’s a case of, “Are you sure you can wash those knives?” “Be careful, those knives are sharp.” “Did you like listening to that movie?” “How do you get dressed in the morning?” “How do you eat?” “How do you sleep?” “How do you know when to go to the bathroom?”…
sometimes, I get tired of being a non-white, non-right-handed, non-male, non-sighted, non-rich, non-Christian, and non-lower-voiced individual. Sometimes, I get tired of being special.
