Live with intent.

frequently when i’m out and about with someone walking, they can’t anticipate what path i will take and therefore they’re in my way pretty frequently. this is fine! i can politely ask them to step to the side. but it makes me think about how little non-wheelchair users understand the way wheelchair users move. as someone who used to walk everywhere, it was an adjustment period for me to figure out how to navigate the world in a chair. here are some things that didn’t occur to me so that you don’t cut off your friend right as they’re building momentum to go up a ramp 😆

for context, i use an active manual chair. the world is very different in a power chair. even among active manual chair users, there is a huge diversity in physicality and strategies for getting around. this is a general guide that i think will apply to most manual wheelchair users. i’m starting super basic and getting more complicated as i go.

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1. manual wheelchairs are a momentum game. it is very easy to maintain speed and direction. but speeding up, slowing down, or turning, is hard. one thing this affects is if we’re on a wavy sidewalk or other twisty-turny walkway, that is a pain in the ass and i am taking as straight a path as i can.

2. wheelchair users also have to pay attention to the slope and condition of the pavement, so our path somewhere will be different than yours, even if we’re taking the same route to the same place. for example, i usually have to go down slopes straight, not diagonally, to avoid tipping over sideways. one area this affects is crosswalks. many intersections have one curb cut for both roads you could cross, which means i will go down curb cuts to a crosswalk as if i am aiming for the middle of the intersection.

your path in orange, mine in blue. to you it seems indirect, but to me it’s the path of least resistance.

i also will be building speed in the second half of the crosswalk. this is a much easier way to tackle a ramp. if i approach with momentum, i won’t have to drag myself up the slope once i get to it.

3. building momentum and maintaining it is only half of the job. the other half is stopping. manual wheelchairs cannot stop on a dime if they’re moving with any kind of speed. if i tried to stop immediately when going downhill, i would fly out of the chair. so don’t walk right into the path of a wheelchair in motion and then stop! i will have to turn to the side very quickly and hope i don’t tip. i can’t tell you how often parents pushing strollers will stop their stroller directly in my path and then get offended when i am alarmed and turn sharply to avoid hitting their child. from their perspective, i was being careless and going “too fast.” in reality, normal walking speed takes a few feet to slow down from and stop.

4. in terms of slope. see this street in san francisco?

i can’t go down this street, it’s way too steep. i would give myself friction burns on my palms trying to control my speed. if i was in a situation where there was no avoiding this street, like in an emergency, i would be breaking my straight-slope rule and zig-zagging in the middle of the road.

this would require several zig-zags back and forth, more than the four that i drew. i also could not go up this road other than with this method. up or down, i risk tipping over sideways if i’m not careful.

4. in a similar vein, consider terrain. slopes with grass or carpet take huge amounts of energy to get up. this grassy hill isn’t insurmountable, but it would take me like thirty minutes to get up there. honestly i would probably go backwards, because it’s easier to pull yourself up a slope than push yourself.

other types of terrain can be completely immobilizing, though. this decorative gravel pathway is beautiful, and inaccessible to me. my casters (front wheels) simply will not go through that.

5. in terms of walkways and obstacles. if there’s a deep gap in the pavement lined up the way i’m going, and it’s, say, an inch wide, that is an obstacle for me. my casters are one inch wide, and my back wheels are an inch and a half. i’ll get stuck in it like a train on a track.

i have to straddle this, even if it means being too close to the middle of the sidewalk and preventing us from walking side by side.

similarly, if a crack is greater than an inch high, i’m gonna wheelie over it. at two inches, i have to. a wheelie may require a change in speed, either faster or slower depending on the person.

i have 4 inch casters, so a lip as little as 2 inches will stop me in my tracks. a lip as little as one inch, hit with any speed, can knock my casters out of square. casters can get knocked out of alignment pretty easily depending on the chair. i’d rather not have to pull out an allen wrench and a level, so i’m gonna wheelie.

this happened when i hit about a 1.5” lip on a pavement crack when i was going downhill at maybe 3mph.

6. putting it all together. see how diagonal this crack is?

this is another situation where i have to go straight relative to the slope. because that crack is wide, it will probably also require a wheelie. if i tried to approach that straight relative to the sidewalk, my left caster would get up the slope, i’d wheelie, then my right caster would land in the crack. i have to go this way.

(also lol at the trash can blocking the curb cut)

MR. SPIRO: Do you give these lectures at all of your depositions? MR. BANKSTON: I do, and you can watch them.

is ESPECIALLY hilarious to me having listened to multiple depositions Mark has had to take in the Sandy Hook case, where he has needed to lecture EVERY. SINGLE. ATTORNEY. at some point in the case about how they're violating Texas Rule XYZ, because they all, to a one, did something seriously ethically questionable during the deposition.

The founders of Jane, an underground network in Chicago, US that assisted people in getting abortions. From the left moving right: Martha Scott, Jeanne Galatzer-Levy, Abby Parisers, Sheila Smith and Madeline Schwenk.

Martha Scott was 19 in 1965, when her friend's sister became pregnant and Scott helped her find a doctor to perform an abortion. The group connected individuals seeking abortions with doctors, and later, performed abortions themselves. Their clients were informed they were not doctors, but doing abortions themselves allowed them to keep costs low. They made people aware of the services through signs with slogans like "'Pregnant? Don't Want to Be? Call Jane." The group operated for seven years and performed an estimated 11,000 abortions; no deaths were ever reported.

Quote from Scott: "You're messing around inside somebody else's body. It's not necessarily given that you won't do harm. It wasn't perfect, by any means. But we were dealing with women who really didn't have other options."

Quote from Galatzer-Levy: "I hadn't had so much as a speeding ticket [when I joined]. But abortion really was the front line, it was where women were dying."

You know what else is confusing? Being told my entire life that I would be exclusively attracted to men when in fact I am a raging queer. And you’re not giving kids enough credit, if they can handle topics like ‘you have a set of earthly parents and a set of Heavenly Parents and both are real parents to you’ then they should understand the concept of being trans.

(He got called to be a mission President a year after that - when he got home it was the first time I'd attended church in since he left. I still call him my Bishop. He was, and remains, a great man.)

Anyway, it was the BoM year, so the number of lessons I skipped was non-trivial. I think I repeated the 3rd Nephi, Chapter 17 lesson alone at least six times to avoid some of the dumber ones. Sometimes the kids just wanted to play outside so we’d sneak some of the teaching aids out of the library (mostly fake crowns and other costume gear) and go to the grass. I’d tell them we were reenacting BoM scenes, but it was always just silliness. The boys loved it when I joined their stick battles and they could all gang up on me and chase me around the lawn, and the girls liked when I joined their dramas. Especially murder mysteries. They’d present me with some sort of weird 8 year old parking lot jungle juice in a paper cup, and I’d take a small sip and then spend a minute or two “dying” from poison. Sometimes I barely had to fake it. I'm pretty sure they gave me straight gasoline once.

There was a set of fraternal twins in that group, a brother and a sister, and one day the boy asked why I wasn't on a mission yet. I told him I didn't know how to answer that, and he apologized, and I told him you have nothing to apologize for. His sister looked appalled as soon as he brought it up (mission stuff is a huge Mormon taboo) but when the day was ending, she stayed behind to help me fold chairs. And when that was done she asked if she'd see me in heaven.

And it struck me how much it must have been worrying her, for her to stay late and to overcome the taboo of asking. So I told her I would do my best, and she said that had to be enough, and I gave her a hug and walked her to parents, then got behind the wheel of my ridiculous half-spackle car and bawled like a little kid. I cried so hard my shoulders hurt. Then I went to the gas station and got a hotdog.

The people making these policies aren't afraid that the kids are going to be confused. They're afraid that they won't be. That they'll look up at you, and love you, and tell you that whatever you're doing has to be enough. They're afraid that if you helped their kids be happy and live a good life, those kids would love you, and then they would have to love you too. And so to keep their hatred safe, they throw you and what you could offer their kids away. It is cowardly, and selfish, and so sickening that it is hard to look at.

And in the end, all I could do was stop looking.

eastern emerald elysia, elysia chlorotica