We all make them. When you see someone on the street, in a store, or at the office, your mind will go to one or two words that you attach to that person. Sometimes these connotations are incredibly positive, and sometimes they are frighteningly negative (that is, if you’re human). We all spend a significant amount of time, I’d surmise, wondering what those few words might be for ourselves, and then making slight adjustments to our “look” or our “vibe” in a subconscious request that others use those certain few descriptors that we find to be the most desirable: beautiful, smart, talented, hot, sharp, or funny, to name a few.

Last week in a post-holiday shopping blitz, I was in a busy clothes store. When I went to get into the line to pay, a woman moved out of the way and said “that’s okay, sweetheart, just go in front of me.” Sweetheart? Yes, that’s correct. And - along with it, an offer to cut the line and ignore the 20 people in line behind her. Inherent in the use of that word, the sing-song tone of voice with which she spoke, and the free ride that she offered, was a generalization that me, as a wheelchair user, should be someone to feel sorry for - someone to pity.

When someone calls me sweetheart, while knowing absolutely nothing about me as a person, do I become angry, annoyed, frustrated? To be honest, it depends on the day. Most of the time I let it roll off my shoulders, knowing that one must pick their battles in life, and this one is simply not worth the energy. Some days, however, it can be the straw that breaks the camels back; the tip of the iceberg representing a type of discrimination that persists, poking its head above water, but indicative of a monstrous presence that exists under the surface. For this reason, it can be very frustrating.

I’m quite certain that every person reading this blog could make a comparison within their own lives. While we don’t want to spend too much time dwelling on the injustices at the sacrifice of positive action, it can help to vent a bit! Sweethearts, dudes, babes, boys, kids... carry on... work hard... our time will come. :)

cheri