Beyond Acquara

When Big N came to visit last month, he took the light rail from the airport. And he commented that it was kind of interesting because in Toronto he can’t get away from people who want to help him sometimes and here he couldn’t find anyone to stop and help him get a ticket. He actually called me from the airport station and I verbally walked him through buying a ticket from the machine by memory. Then I told him that nine times out of ten, there is a waiting train at that station that is turned off and everyone gets on and waits up to about 1/2 hour until it goes. He said that there was no train, and I said that it was a double edged platform and to check behind him on the other track. Sure enough, train waiting. I wondered if people would just let the train ride away and leave him standing there.

D has had trouble on the train as well. There are two of four doors on each train car that he can use with a wheelchair. A ramp deploys and then once inside there are two spaces for wheelchairs. Both spaces are near the necessary buttons to push to make the ramp deploy when you want to get off. It really works best if you push the buttons before the train stops and the doors open or they have to re-close and the ramp deploys and then they re-open and everyone gets impatient and mad. The problem is, many times when the train is busier, no one moves for a person in a wheelchair. So you end up being sort of stuck in the aisle unable to push the button when your stop comes. Or, worse, you get in the designated spot, lots of people get on and are standing around you, and then no one moves when you want to get off. It is a 500 pound chair. It will break your foot. It can nudge you and knock you down.  So unless D wants to be killing people left and right, he pretty much has to yell at them to get them to move.

I say yell because often times (not always) a polite “excuse me, I’m coming off” doesn’t cut it. Sometimes it is because people are just oblivious to what is going on around them. They are on cell phones, have head phones in their ears, are engrossed in a book or on an electronic game. Or just spaced out. It’s not every one who acts like this and makes traveling while disabled hard. There are plenty of nice people who do what they can to be helpful. But many times (say 50% of the time??) no one seems to care.

So, Big N was commenting on something and wondering about the cultural implications.  He said that on our train, the pre-recorded announcement says and several stops (something like) “You are required to move for seniors and people with disabilities.” Compared to what the Toronto subways say which is (something like) “Please consider giving up your seat for pregnant women, small children, seniors and people with disabilities. Courtesy on TTC makes everyone have a better day!”

And one thing I did notice when I was using the subways in Toronto was that I NEVER did not have a seat. Ever. People could not give up their seats fast enough to give myself and my two kids three seats together. It didn’t matter how busy the train was. If I got us all prepared to stand, there were people corralling me to seats. It was as if they couldn’t stand to sit in a seat with a mother with small children in front of them. They just wouldn’t allow it. Now, this was when I was not pregnant, not always with Big N (who looks obviously blind) and not always with my cane visible (sometimes tucked under my arm or in a bag, because the speed of those subways rushing into the platform not 3 feet away from me scared the crap out of me and I always had my hands on both kids.) People just realized how hard it is for a mom to help two small kids stay upright on a train when it is standing room only and also seem to understand the need for a mom to stay very, very adjacent to her kids.

So, our question was, does asking people nicely like they do in Toronto help people be nicer about it? Instead of “you are required to move” like they do here? Or is it that the culture for being nice already exists there and so there is no need to get bossy about it? I don’t know.

I bring this up because I had the most hideous day yesterday on public transportation. I took the kids to their preschool and back which includes the train and–currently during my pregnant state—one very short bus ride. Now to be fair, on the way there in the morning I had no trouble except for finding adjacent seats. Many times there are seats for all of us but they are spread out and I don’t feel comfortable being apart from my kids. So, I was offered a seat by someone who moved because she had an empty seat next to her. And then one kid has to go on my lap or stand between my legs or we all just squeeze in together. It’s workable.

And then I was in their classroom all morning because I had to volunteer. I had to stand, sit on the floor, stand up again, sit in child sized wooden chairs, stand sit stand some more and just generally be physically busy. By the time it was time to go home, I was tired and my hips/pelvic bones were achy-breaky. Then, my other problem is getting the kids’ artwork home. Many times it is not a big deal, but sometimes it gets tricky. Last week they made “faerie gardens” in pie pans and I could only take one home. This week they did outlines of themselves on big butcher paper. Ugh. I’m all for kids doing art projects but I want most of these things to vanish after they are done with them and never be remembered again. Doesn’t work that way with 4-year-olds. So, I have a backpack, they each have lunch boxes, I have Little N’s faerie garden thingy from last week which is full of soil and seeds and beads and stuff and needs to be kept level. I have two rolled up pieces of butcher paper that are each taller than the kids. (The kids and I carried these intermittently. The kids tended to hit everyone and everything with them.) I have to walk two blocks to the bus stop and then I have to stand there for 20 minutes because the bus we usually take, we missed due to all the scrambling to carry stuff. And then I stood at the train station for 45 minutes because I don’t know why. The train was late for some reason (It usually comes every 6 to 10 minutes.) The missing trains made it so there were a lot of people to have collected wanting to get on the train and it was very busy.

So when it finally came, I had to herd the kids onto it without holding on to A. And a bunch of people rushed between me and a 4-year-old. Like, who does that? I never, ever get between a parent and their young child. I’m always conscious of making sure little kids are connected with their adult. Well, luckily, (I guess) A got on the train and couldn’t find me and freaked out and so just stood there yelling for me. So I found him quickly. But then there were no seats. So first and foremost I have to find a way for the kids to hang on to something they can reach. And then I have to find something for me to hang on to while I carry all this stuff that the kids can’t carry now because they need to hang on. People, I am seven and a half months pregnant with a giant kid who weighs in about the size of an 8 month one week fetus. Because of my pregnancy and my hip/pelvic thing, my balance is for shit and I can’t even make my legs do that wider “brace yourself” stance that you can usually get away with if there is nothing to hold on to. And already in pain, after about three stops of the shaky train braking and unbraking, I was almost doubled over in tear-induced pain. It was kind of one of those things where I was actually too far away from anyone who had seats to ask for a seat and I was right in the aisle and would have needed to corral my kids over to two or three seats. Wasn’t happening. And I was kind of starting not to be able to think straight anyway.

I hear this huge guy sort of smirk and say something about how he hoped I wasn’t going into labor on the MAX, which would make him late as he laughed to his buddy. This got the attention of some woman who was also standing, and she came over and asked if I was ok. I said, I’m not going into labor or anything but I just have a lot of pain right now. So she basically yelled that “This lady needs a seat!” And every one just kind of looked around at each other. So she whispers to me, “What a bunch of assholes.” Then she bellows to all these people (around 6 of them) sitting in disabled seating that they are REQUIRED TO MOVE and points to the sign. More eyeing each other like, “whose gonna do it?” and then finally one person moves. So I got one seat. I moved A to between my legs and I moved N to right next to me hanging on the (much better height for him) handicapped grab bars.

So there is my story. But I just want to say two things. I am not some sissy blind chick who has to have a seat all the time. When I am alone (and not pregnant) I think nothing of standing up and NEVER sit in disabled seating. When I’m with the kids, I usually try to find them a seat and am fine standing as long as they are sitting. In a pinch, we have all stood and not batted an eye about it. And I also try not to judge anyone for not moving out of disabled seating because you never know what people’s deal might be. But fuck if there aren’t times when people are so completely oblivious to the needs of others because they have their head stuck so far up their cell phone that they don’t realize they are next to living humans that I don’t get pissed off.

Also I would like to say that I usually can speak for myself, but the pain this time actually was that bad. And, embarrassing as it was,  this random woman stepping in and helping was a life saver for me. All I need now is the very real possibility that I could dislocate or break a hip or have so much pain that my blood pressure starts doing crazy dances. This is the most dangerous time in my pregnancy. Things all went to total hell at 33 weeks my last pregnancy. I have to be careful. I thanked her then, of course. But if you are that random woman (literally or figuratively in another similar situation) THANK YOU for stepping in and helping out a total stranger and not just minding your own business. As much as some people piss me off, I know that there are others like this woman who do more than make up for it by being a decent human being who cares about others. Sometimes your random act of kindness can literally mean more than all the rude and complacent people combined. And also? The people of Toronto rock for knowing enough not to put someone in this position in the first place.

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Oh, and another thing. Can I bitch about another thing? Moms need to cut the fucking judgment on each other already. I was asked about my due date by a group of moms (IRL), and I talked about my first week of December planned Cesarean. And I got the whole lecture about the overuse of Cesareans and how they aren’t natural and they are so awful and dangerous and natural childbirth is the most wonderful, bestest way to go. And I’ve read Naomi Wolf’s Misconceptions and I’m up on the controversy about overmedicalized births. Therefore, I totally support any woman’s right to assess her own risks and her own resources and comfort levels and to have all birthing options available to her. I am very glad that women can and do have such wonderful experiences with natural birth. Dooce’s account gave me goosebumps and I was nothing less than thrilled for her. However, until you have lost your eyesight, watched copious amounts of blood come out of your eye, nose, ear and mouth, been on bedrest, had to choose between your own health and that of your unborn children, and almost died during pregnancy…you pretty much need to shut the fuck up. Every person has to take their own circumstances into account and assess their own level of risk. I am a single mom to two young children with a severely disabled father who lives in poverty and cannot easily take care of them long-term. I have kidney disease and a bum hip and a uterus that has seen more than one major surgery. I simply CAN’T, CAN’T, CAN’T die or even be out of commission for too long without major implications for my kids. I know the risk of C-sections and in MY (ME, MINE, MY OWN) case, the risk assessment is way less to have this level of medical intervention. Okay? So share the love, sisters. This is about giving women CHOICES that they have control over, not just dictating how it should be done. How is that different than what the medical establishment has done already against women? Okay? Okay.

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