Through Their Eyes

Sometimes, I wonder what it would be like to see myself through a stranger’s set of eyes. It’s a curiosity I’ve had for a very long time, though I’ve thought more about it recently, well, because I’m a ‘thinker’ who often thinks too much. You’re probably wondering why I’m even so interested in what others see when they look at me and I realize it’s an odd subject, but allow me to elaborate for you.

I’m pretty sure I started thinking about this when I was in elementary school, probably after I began regular ed classes. (If you’re wondering, I was only in a special ed class for Pre-school and Kindergarten. After that, my mother was advised by my teachers to put me in regular instruction because I had too much potential. Probably one of the best decisions ever made in my life.) The reason I say it happened after entering regular classes is because I believe that’s about the timeframe that it took for me to realize I really was ‘different’ in the eyes of my young peers. Prior to this, I don’t think I was exposed to as much staring as I received from them and I hadn’t ever seen myself as odd, so no wonder it threw my little child-size brain for a loop. I caught on quickly and figured out that when kids looked at me, they were seeing the wheelchair first or the way my head kinda slumped to one side a bit too much or the way my wrists contracted and looked freakishly odd. Maybe it was something entirely different. Either way, the looks I received were not your typical ‘hey, wanna play with us?’ kind of looks that I imagine kids give each other at a park or school playground. I recall that the worst of it always happened at lunchtime when it was time to eat at those long brownish tables. I’m not sure if they were amazed that I ate or if I just looked really weird chewing and attempting to feed myself without assistance, but damn, those little eyes were intense. (Despite their staring, I never skipped a meal because food has always been one of my closest friends and I would never give up precious time with a friend.)

I’m not sure if someone ever gets used to being stared at or the object of attention in a room full of people, but I did acclimate to the looks from kids and it became second nature to me (that’s not saying that I didn’t struggle with it). Basically, I learned how to just ignore it all and I’m fairly certain that was my coping mechanism to get through my elementary school years, and all subsequent years of schooling, though naïve pre-pubescent me actually believed that the staring and awkward sideways glances would eventually cease once my peers grew older and matured. In retrospect, learning to deal with people’s reactions to me was probably the best thing I could have done for myself because, contrary to my young wishful thinking, the looks and pointing and jeers were always present. Even grown adults got in on the action eventually.

If you had to reread my last sentence to make sure you understood what I am saying, allow me to clarify for you. You see, adults aren’t much better than children when it comes to common decency and staring at someone who looks strange. As a matter of fact, it becomes even more hurtful when adults are the ones showing their uneasiness once I catch their eye. I can’t emphasize how many times I have caught middle-aged folks giving me the death-stare or better yet, turning their eyes away from me when eye contact is made, as if I might be the most repulsive thing they’ve seen thus far in their lives. (Like, is it really that hard to just smile or say hi when our eyes meet? I promise I won’t jump out of my chair and bite you!) Elevators are the absolute worst. Imagine being confined in a small space with a crowd of folks’ eyes only on you without saying a word. There’s nothing like it. The thing is, I don’t mind the occasional glances because I completely understand that humans are curious creatures and there’s nothing wrong with that (hence, why folks should ask questions instead of just staring, mouth slightly agape, like a dimwit), but it’s taken to a whole new level of unpleasantness when those eyes are surveying me from head to toe for more than ten seconds. Those types of stares, where I feel like I could scream, are the ones that have contributed to my desire to see myself the way they see me. Just so I could get an understanding of what makes my presentation of disability such an eye-magnet, and not in a good way. (I honestly believe that it’s my ventilator interface that draws the most attention for whatever reason, but, alas, that’s just my speculation.)

I’ve always tried to only focus on the aspects of my life that I can directly control, and the looks (and the comments, but we’ll touch that later on) that I get on a regular basis in public are something that I have no control over. Thus, I’ve found that the best way to get through the crappy parts of this existence is to just laugh it out and make light of a situation that would otherwise be painful to face daily, rather than allow the negativity to weigh me down too much. I’m not going to lie and say that it’s not sometimes difficult to overcome this bulls**t that society throws my way, but I always seem to muster up the strength to get through it.

(Fun Fact: Back when I was about 13 and I started to have to go out in public with a mask on my face that was connected to my ventilator, my mom and I were starting to realize that I was gaining more stares from a wider audience. It was this realization that prompted my mom to give me the nickname ‘Fascination’ [because obviously humans are quite fascinated with me] and whenever the staring got too intense, she would say to me, “Come on, Fascination” or something along those lines and it would lighten our mood a bit.)

I honestly don’t understand why folks prefer to gawk instead of just coming out and asking whatever questions are floating around in their heads (especially the grownups, c’mon), and I can’t even be sure that they’re all conscious of what they are doing. But, being aware of how your actions affect others is the first step to correcting the issue. So, if you ever catch yourself or even a friend staring at someone that is not typical (don’t worry, that doesn’t make you a bad person), remind yourself of the message you’re conveying to the person you’re looking at. Instead of making someone feel like they’re a freak or abnormal or some kind of extraterrestrial by giving those awkward looks, maybe try a smile or a friendly hello. Even ask a question if the curiousity is just too much for you to bear. Not only will you camouflage your minor indiscretion by heeding to my request, but you will help dismantle the message that society sends to folks like me: that we’re so out of the ordinary, so ‘other-ed’, that we become objects to gaze upon rather than interact with on a human level.

See ya’ll next week!