Trying to scale walls of ignorance and apathy

I was staring at the largest wall I had ever seen in my life. It reached far over my head and… I was staring at the largest wall I had ever seen in my life. It reached far over my head and extended around to cover my entire visual range. I had seen walls like this before and they made me feel tired inside.

Perhaps it had been the many times I had climbed them in the past or maybe it was my confusion as to why they had never been torn down, but for whatever reason, I was finding it hard to do much besides look at the wall. I knew what I had to do, but it was taking me a while to well up the energy to do it.

George Lane arrived at his hearing at a courthouse in Tennessee. Lane’s hearing was on the second floor of the building, inaccessible to him in his wheelchair. The courtroom had no ramps or elevators, so Lane, refusing to be carried, crawled up the stairs. Court employees laughed at him.

As for me, seeing the taller people didn’t help. All around me, men, women, even small children where crossing over the wall without so much as a second thought. Some merely stepped over it, others scaled it with a single, effortless jump. I hadn’t moved.

Beverly Jones works as a court reporter. Some of the courthouses she works at are not accessible to her wheelchair. One day, Jones accepted the offer of a court employee to carry her up the stairs to the courtroom. While carrying Jones, the employee slipped. Jones nearly fell down the entire flight of stairs. Her fall was broken when she crashed into someone else.

The wall felt familiar and painful when I first placed my hand on it. Finding what appeared to be a suitable hold, I began to pull myself up. Inch by inch, I dragged myself upwards, muscles aching, fingers bleeding, nails cracking. Sweat was burning my partially closed eyes, but they were open enough to see that I hadn’t gotten far off the ground.

I could hear the people around me as I climbed. Some were laughing and pointing, others talked of ways to remedy my predicament. One proposed simply throwing me over the wall. Some questioned why I even bothered to try climbing it in the first place, why I didn’t just stay on the other side. Others asked me if I wanted help, a push or a pull, unaware of how ignorant they sounded. I did not want help living my life. I was different then most people and often times alone.

Ralph Ramsey is the defendant in a civil lawsuit. Arriving at the courthouse, he discovered that his wheelchair prevented him from entering the courtroom. He sent word to the judge that the second floor was not accessible to him. After some time, a prosecuting attorney walked down stairs to inform Ramsey that he lost the case and owed his client $1,500. The trial had gone on without him.

By the time I reached the top of the wall, I could see the small, concerned group assembled on the other side. They were familiar to me by now. What still hurt was to see the millions who kept walking along, unaware of my tiny existence, apathetic to me and to most matters of the world. They were the ones who built the wall.

I am not confined to a wheelchair. But if I was, I imagine that the whole world must look to be full of walls.

The walls will not come down easily, but some need to be torn down before others.

Lane, Jones and Ramsey are suing the respective states where the courthouses reside in an attempt to force the federal government to make all courthouses wheelchair accessible. They see the current situation as an injustice. The states do not.

According to information in recent New York Times articles, the states do not think that any of these people’s rights have been violated. They even go so far as to say that a person does not have the right to attend their own trial.

In 1990, the Americans with Disabilities Act was created to protect the rights of disabled citizens. However, over the years, the act has been under attack in courtrooms, and some of its original power has been stripped away. Many people, and states, feel that it is simply not necessary to build a ramp here or an elevator there. It was probably easier for these people to plead their cases, not having to crawl or be carried to be heard.

I understand that it will be a while before every apartment, office, and even school building is wheelchair accessible. But the lack of ramps and elevators in courthouses is a complete disgrace. Apparently, the phrase “justice for all” has been replaced with “justice for all who can walk.”

It is hard for some people to envision what life is like for those who are different. Caring takes valuable time and money. Apathy is easy and cheap.

But the next time you walk anywhere, picture every doorway, step and staircase as a wall. Then ask yourself what you would do for a ladder.

David J enjoys the use of his two legs, but doesn’t feel like that makes him more worthy of basic rights. Exercise your basic rights by emailing him at davidj@pittnews.com.