I love the city. Even small ones like the one I found myself waiting in yesterday.
My dad was picking up something from Adrian Locksmith and had to ask a few questions. I waited in the truck parked facing the intersection across from the courthouse plaza. It was around 3:00 PM, so the traffic was bustling.
From my vantage point, I could see straight ahead into the humble downtown area with its restaurants and shops I’ve always been fascinated with, but yet never really fully explored before. Living 30 minutes away, we never really seem to take or even have much time to get downtown. My parents are always there on a mission of some sorts that requires us to stay in the outskirts of town for Meijer or Aldi. When we do get there, we often have little time or we are there at awkward moments where things are all closed. No one is at fault for this, it’s simply the way things are. Not even when I went to college at Siena Heights could I fully understand or appreciate the town for what it was. Commuting to and from, back and forth was extremely taxing and left me with very little time for any outside escapades from the campus itself.
As I sat on this corner, watching a pair of golden yellow motorcycles pass by amongst a sea of black and white pickup trucks,”Somewhere That’s Green” came over my Broadway station. Only I realized that I didn’t want to be somewhere green, I yearned to be right there in that crowded town teeming with life.
While I have always been into showtunes, they have an even more striking impact on me now. While you might be tired of hearing about it by now. I’m reminded of an opportunity that has really shown me this town more than anything else has and will probably continue to. This may sound melodramatic or even haughty, but I truly feel as if The Croswell has given me the most incredible chance to prove myself than any other organization has ever done before. Of course, I have been blessed beyond measure and have been given countless gifts over the course of my life, but this is the first real time, amidst a sea of job interviews and numerous applications without even so much as a rejection message, I feel like an organization has said “Yes, you are welcome here.” I may not be getting paid or even a permanent position for that matter, even reaching the stage is a borderline impossible task without my dad and others. Nevertheless, the fact something I pushed for in my adult life was finally taken seriously, not just dismissed as being just another candidate, application or submission. The fact The Croswell was willing to even consider having me aboard is a ton more than I can say for other local organizations. It’s given me a small purpose in a life that seems to be extremely difficult to find one in. While writing is a wonderful purpose for me, it’s difficult to find myself in a community or consistency that something like a “proper job” would entail, especially as a resident of a smaller town where the focus is often on sports and recreational activities rather than art and entertainment.
On top of all that, I feel like I’m getting to experience this wonderful downtown even more now that I have found The Croswell. I’ve been to the local coffee shops and had my hair trimmed at My Cousin Vinny’s. Meeting with friends and family, going to Shakespeare in Trestle Park and bumping into college professors while being reminded of the beautiful parks in town are just a few of the things I have loved about being more attached to the city.
As I look at the towering, marvelous courthouse across the street from my perch, I can’t help but reflect on my many trips to Ann Arbor and what wondrous architecture it has, how happy it makes me to simply look upwards and see pillars, frescos, and the majesty of aged brick or stone. People go past like they do in the sunset, never even noticing the beauty bestowed upon the rafters and scaffolding. Even the small graffiti tags on the electric boxes and light poles are filled with life and color.
The prospect for me is amazing. Walk a few blocks and see a show, a little bit more and pick up a few groceries or stop in a bar, then on your way home, stop by the park and watch the dogs and people roam around in the auburn sun. To be that close to everything, to have this small, wonderful world at my fingertips without having to ask someone else to go with me or take me to it, that is my ultimate dream. I would love to be able to do things on my own terms. I don’t even want to be alone or do everything by myself, but I would like to have the ability to reach the things I want to do when I want to be there without having to worry about others being able to help get me there. You just can’t do that as a wheelchair user in the country. I can’t just pop into my friends house a few blocks away or swing by the bar for a impromptu cocktail. I have to ask for a friend to come pick me up and then I have to use them to get back. Sure, I may have to wait the same way for a bus or a car in the city, but not only would that be easier and more readily available, I would feel better about using a service that is available than having to ask busy friends and family for help.
Not only that, but I always feel bad asking people to do things or go places they have no interest in doing or going to simply to help me get there. My parents have no interest in comic books, yet they regularly make the trip to shops for me, typically sitting outside in an effort to give me privacy. I’m thankful for the opportunity and this gesture, but it also leaves an empty feeling in my stomach when I know they are not engaged or even present. Plus, there are many restrictions going around with others that might not be as prevalent when alone. People have different energy levels and, for the most part, these limits don’t necessarily bother me. However, I can think of several instances where I would have rather continued an adventure that got detained or derailed by someone else in my party being unable to do so. This might be what I feel is the most selfish thing about this whole desire of mine. I don’t want to push others past their boundaries and limits just because I want to be happy, but my own limits and desires don’t often match those that are gracious enough to be with me in the first place. I’m blessed beyond measure to have such generosity in my life. but it seems like I’m constantly being given opportunities by others that don’t share my drive to do them. Living in a city may ease these feelings by making the things I want closer, thereby more possible for me to do as I see fit. For example, if a cinema or theater was more readily accessible to me a few blocks down the street, I would go literally any opportunity I could. I adore cinema and theatre, but I find myself going less and less often because I would have to catch a ride or find time to include someone else in the experience. If left to my own devices, I would probably be one of those people who practically lives at the cinema. As things stand, I simply don’t have that luxury.
The main problem at this point is finding a job that pays enough and would be close enough to an affordable apartment that I could reliably get back and forth between. As you can imagine, this is a quite tedious, frustrating, and frankly terrifying process that seems to be taking forever. Seeing as I can’t just go to a restaurant or factory and get a temporary job while I look for a more permanent one, my prospects until I find one are pretty slim to none. Yet another reason I long for a chance or an opportunity to be a part of something.
To add to everything else, I have never in my life truly lived alone before, let alone anywhere outside of my hometown. I can’t imagine what it will be like when the day comes when I secure this thing I want the most. I would seemingly be losing everything I have ever had to begin with.
To live with disability is to live with fear and patience, either controlled, uncontrolled or both simultaneously. A fear not only to provide for one’s self and family, but to live for one’s self. While it could be said that we all struggle in these ways, disability makes these struggles not just more difficult, but also much slower than what might be possible for others. Change often comes slowly for minds not as slowed or nearly as impeded as one might think. Even with all the good things in life, it often seems we sit still, and are told to sit still enough, that our souls are held down not by our bodies, but by the very patience we choose to have. it can be a wonderful gift, this peace of stillness and calm. I probably would not be half as wise or aware as I am now if I could literally run through life without a care. Peace is possible and can be found with any disability, but sometimes the waiting will drive you crazy.
I don’t want to leave where I live, I truly don’t. The scenery is some of the best in the county and the people are truly some of the best I’ve ever known. I truthfully would have to mature and learn a ton myself before I could even take the plunge. There are lots of things I don’t know how to do or have struggles with. However, I find myself being called again and again back to the places no one in my country-loving community seems to understand has every opportunity I need in order to possibly become my best self in. Not only that, but there is a true beauty in the urban environment that people take for granted because they only see the flaws in the system. Whenever you gather people together in close proximity, problems can and will arise, but so also can beauty, change, and camaraderie. The serenity of nature is unmatched, but it cannot alter the fact that in order to be my most independent self serenity will be best found in a place where I can carve my own path and make my own way in life. A city certainly won’t solve all my problems. In fact, it will create a whole chapter of new ones. However, I feel like if I don’t at least try, I’ll regret it.
Yesterday, I sat at a crossroads and enjoyed everything I saw. I pray I can find the courage. strength, and any other glittering keys needed to cross it one day. I hope everyone can.
If you want to learn more about disability advocacy, especially the incredible efforts of the people who worked tirelessly to get to where we are today, I highly recommend you check out the documentary Change, Not Charity: The Americans with Disabilities Act on PBS. It’s an incredible watch and quite eye opening. Perhaps a testament to not only helping far we have yet to go, and- more importantly- what we could potentially lose.
Calm and Cultured 