Are You Wearing Blinders?

Have you ever noticed how incredibly oblivious the people around you are at times? Just like a race horse wearing blinders so they can only see what's right in front of them, some people don't seem to realize that they live in a world with other humans, animals, and so much more.

You know who I mean, right? - That driver who just stopped in the middle of traffic to change lanes because they didn't plan ahead. - The pedestrian who walks slowly out to cross the road just as the light turns yellow - and then takes half of your green light to finish crossing. - The shopper who leaves their cart right in the middle of the aisle while browsing so you can't get around it. - The person who just steps in front of you, or grabs the last parking space. There are so many more, aren't there? And, as ever, it's so much easier to see someone else's oblivion. As someone with a disability, there are some things I notice which aren't as obvious to some.

If you've ever been to any kind of audience event with children - or even someone who's 'vertically challenged' - you've probably experienced that moment of annoyance when the person in front of you stood up and your child couldn't see the stage anymore. Maybe your child cried or had a tantrum, or perhaps you spoke with the person about it. How did that go? (PS - the answer is probably "not well") Last week, I had the opportunity to attend an outdoor concert with some friends. There are some things I know will limit me there - long walks are a little challenging, and I can't stand long on uneven surfaces, or really at all. But I know these things, and thankfully, my friends understand and are supportive and caring. Other people at the concert, though, really didn't get it - or didn't see. For example, when the main act came on, many people stood up to see better. We were on a grassy hill, and so this worked well for most people. It didn't for me, but then, I knew it wouldn't. And it was ok. I'm not really a visual person, so not being able to see wasn't critical to me so long as I could hear well, and for most of the concert, I could. Challenges happened when the people in front of me started dancing around. It's not that I (or anyone else) minded their dancing. But as they were drinking and only about a foot in front of me, there was an active concern that they might stumble and trip or fall on me. One of my friends noticed, and cautioned the people about this. They listened, and shifted their dancing to more of a shuffle, but I felt a little like they (the strangers, not my friends) resented the fact that my disability interrupted their pleasure.

The other challenge was one that was more unique to me - obvious, and yet not so. Because my experience of the concert was almost entirely an audio one, sound mattered. Midway through the concern, some young men stood behind me and were talking - loudly enough to hear each other over the concert ... and thus, loudly enough for me to hear them over the concert, unfortunately. I asked them a few times to either speak quietly or take their conversation elsewhere, and eventually simply pointed out that "I'm here to hear him, not you". I'm still not sure they got the point, but at least they toned their volume down and eventually moved to a quieter area to continue their conversation. As with most things, there are lessons here - for me, and I hope for others as well. Even when I'm the person who feels slighted and unseen, it's a great reminder for me to be aware of those around me. There are probably times when I'm the oblivious person too. We all want to be seen. Let's take the blinders off, shall we? One of the things I find valuable about little annoyances like this is simply that it reminds me to be conscious of what's around me. If I'm a car making a turn, it's courteous, sensible and safe for me to signal in advance, so others know what I'm doing. If I'm walking across the road, it make sense for me to pay attention to the cars who might be turning. I may be right, but they've kind of got a size and weight advantage there. Whatever you're doing - don't forget there are others around you. You matter - and so do they.