I had a very Scarlett O'Hara moment this past Monday, just without the feeling of superiority.
I recently lost the blue hang tag that I use when I'm in other people's cars to access handicapped parking facilities. So this past Monday I went to my neighborhood courthouse to see what the process is for getting a replacement. My latest surgical site was feeling good enough for me to walk in without a cane, but because it still had scabs I couldn't wear the big velcro and metal brace yet. So I was gimpy but not obviously handicapped to the casual observer.
I go into the building and the line for the area where I need to go is backed out through the door. I know there is a guard station inside the door, and I know I can't stand in that line. So I squeeze past the line of people attempting to access the services of their local government and I go up to the guard.
I show her my paperwork and tell her what I need to do. She asks if the parking permit is for myself or another person. I tell it is my own. She stands up, stretches her arm in the air so she can point behind me and over AND behind the big long line of people (must have been at least 50 folks standing, miserable) and tells me to go stand inbetween these two blue ropes.
There is no one else standing inbetween the two blue ropes. Everyone else, all the people who were there before me and who have been standing, sweating, waiting, being good citizens, are on the other side of those two blue ropes.
I point, in the manner of the guard, and say, "Over there??"
She says yes, so I do as I am told. There are about 15 service windows, and about 5 workers servicing citizens. All the people behind the windows are white. All the people behind the two blue ropes are brown or black. I am white, standing alone, inbetween the two blue ropes.
I get called to the window to be serviced before all the black and brown people who had been waiting before me.
Now, I know I was helped first because of my physical handicap. Thank you, because while I could stand there for the 8 or 10 minutes it took for me to be called, there is no way in hell I could have stood in that line for what must have been at least an hour or more long wait. And I couldn't have sat on the floor to wait in line because I couldn't have gotten back up without a lot of pain and possibly additional injury. So I am grateful for the accommodations made by society to people such as myself who just can't do what people who've never had a broken knee can do.
And I know that the folks who were near me in the room knew I was getting a handicap tag, they could see it, and they knew I was getting helped first because of a physical need.
BUT.
MAN oh MAN did I feel really really WHITE standing there.Labels: accident, personal urban drama |
