Wheels On Down the Road

Category: Life & Perspective

Personal experiences, reflections, accessibility topics, and disability advocacy.

  • More Than Qualified, Still Overlooked: One Disabled Worker’s Truth

    The Harsh Reality of Disability and Employment

    Finding a job is hard. Finding one as a person with a disability? Often twice as hard—and half as fair.

    Despite decades of progress, people with disabilities still face enormous hurdles in the workforce. From inaccessible interviews to discrimination that’s harder to prove than to feel, the disability employment gap remains stubbornly wide. As of 2024, only about 22.5% of people with disabilities are employed, compared to 65.8% of non-disabled people, according to the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics. And now, with looming threats to Social Security programs, the urgency to find stable, fulfilling work is greater than ever.

    Balancing Purpose and Pay

    I have been looking for more financially stable work for quite some time. I love what I do right now. However, I need something more reliable regarding the amount of money I can bring in.

    I am also looking for jobs that will feed my soul. They should not drain my emotional and physical energy. I know that might seem like taking the easy way out. Throughout my life, I’ve learned that being in draining positions harms my overall well-being.

    Many people with disabilities face the same struggle. They try to balance physical or mental health needs with the demand for financial stability. It’s not just about wanting a job. It’s about finding one that doesn’t push you past your limits.

    A 2022 study by Accenture found a significant correlation. Companies that embraced disability inclusion were twice as likely to outperform their peers in profitability. They also had improved productivity. Yet, many of us never get the chance to show what we can do.

    Living on the Edge of Uncertainty

    I am in a rather unique situation. I do receive SSDI. This allows me to be more selective about the work I do. I am also aware of the changes the current administration is trying to make to Social Security.

    You should look for alternate sources of income. This is important in case there is a stoppage in the SSDI checks you receive. According to the Social Security Administration’s 2024 Trustees Report, the trust fund is projected to be depleted by 2033. Reforms are necessary to avoid depletion.

    The Job Search: A Loop of Silence and Rejection

    In the past six months, I have submitted countless applications. Most of the time, I don’t hear anything back. Then there are rare instances where I get to interview. I don’t know if I suck at the interview process. I don’t know if it’s because I am a wheelchair user. Maybe it’s because I have a service dog. Usually, after that first interview, I get the dreaded response. It says: “After careful consideration, we have decided to move forward with other candidates.” Their experience more closely aligns with our current needs.

    Statistically, this kind of experience isn’t unusual. According to the National Organization on Disability, many employers still have biases. They also have inaccessible workplaces and a lack of inclusive practices. These conditions make it harder for disabled applicants to be hired or promoted. These invisible barriers reinforce the frustrating reality many disabled job seekers face. You can be qualified, capable, and enthusiastic. Yet, you might still be overlooked.

    My Work History: Then and Now

    I have been working on and off since I was 14 years old. During the summer of 1998, I had my first taste of what a job would be like. I was taking summer classes in the Twin Cities thanks to the generosity of my aunts. They had an amazing friend who worked as a head chef at a hotel near the airport. They were willing to give me a chance at what I can now only describe as something of an internship. Arrangements had been made for me to “work” one day a week. Despite this, I still had to interview with the head chef. I was scared and nervous and excited all at the same time.

    My first official summer job was at the Swift County Recorder’s Office in the summer of 2000. It was an exciting experience, even though the job was simple: scanning documents to be digitized. It gave me more responsibility and a little bit of spending money. I worked so much that I burned through the allotted funds that paid my wages. The following summer, I had a similar job with the county’s Soil and Water Conservation Office. Again, it was a simple job but taught me a lot about responsibility.

    These early jobs weren’t glamorous, but they helped shape my work ethic. I was learning to navigate a world. This world was not designed with me in mind, like it wasn’t for many other young adults with disabilities. According to the National Organization on Disability, workplace biases persist. Inaccessible environments remain. Additionally, a lack of inclusive practices continues to be a major roadblock to employment for disabled individuals.

    Campus Jobs, First Steps, and New Lessons

    The summer after my senior year of high school, I didn’t work. Not because I couldn’t get a job, but because I wanted one last summer of freedom before college. During college, I held a few on-campus jobs. While living in Hutchinson, I worked part-time as a tutor. To be honest, I don’t even remember what subject I tutored. However, I do remember getting a letter from the county about not reporting the $65 I earned. I had no idea I needed to at the time.

    At Augsburg, I had a variety of jobs. I helped the campus LGBTQ+ organization with their website and digital advertising. I was also a tour guide for the admissions office. My focus was often giving tours to prospective students with mobility challenges.

    A Decade of Retail—and Then, the Curtain Closed

    After graduation, I was fortunate to land a temp job with a downtown Minneapolis staffing agency. I was surprised they hired me, but I guess when you’re a temp, they take whoever they can get. That role lasted about eight months, and then I was unemployed again. I submitted many applications back then. It felt like a lot. I rarely heard anything back.

    Eventually, I applied at Best Buy. They had a location at the Mall of America. It was easy for me to get to. I’d never worked retail in my life and barely shopped at Best Buy before. I remember the hiring process. There was a phone interview. Then there was a group interview (my first ever). I felt completely out of place during it. I didn’t say much because I didn’t know what to say. Somehow, I said enough to move on to the final interview and land the job.

    Originally, it was supposed to be a seasonal role, but they decided to keep me on part-time after the holidays. I continued working at Best Buy for nearly 10 years. Over time, I shifted into different departments and eventually landed a full-time position. It was nice having PTO and a consistent paycheck.

    Unfortunately, it wasn’t meant to last. In the summer of 2018, Best Buy closed that location. I considered applying to the nearby Richfield store and even had a few interviews there, but it felt different. They seemed more hesitant to hire someone with my “unique abilities.” It didn’t work out, but I received a decent severance package and took a much-needed three-month break.

    That hesitation? It mirrors what many disabled workers experience. Too many hiring processes contain a subtle skepticism. There’s a belief that accommodating a disabled employee is more trouble than it’s worth. But data and my own personal experience contradicts that. Studies show that providing accommodations often costs less than $500, and the long-term benefits—employee retention, morale, and diversity—are invaluable.

    I did a training video in 2017 while I was with Best Buy on this exact issue. My general manager and I were featured in a video about workplace accessibility. The video highlighted how simple accommodations can make a huge difference in supporting disabled employees. These include clear communication, flexibility, and simple adjustments to schedules and the layout of an eight-foot section. For example, the management made the point-of-sale terminal more accessible. This change helped me ring out customers in my department.

    All they had to do was remove a section of shelving to lower the register. It didn’t just work for me—it worked for everyone. While the video is now unlisted, it remains one of the proudest accomplishments of my time there and is still featured on my LinkedIn profile as a reminder of what true inclusion can look like in action

    Where I Am Now—and Where I Want to Go

    In the fall of 2018, I landed my current role at U.S. Bank Stadium. I love the staff I work with—it’s a great environment. Things have changed a lot since returning post-COVID, but I don’t see myself leaving anytime soon. That said, hours have been very limited since the pandemic. I need something that provides more financial stability.

    In 2021, I met Amy B., a personal trainer specializing in inclusive fitness. She created Fit with Amy B to provide training for people of all abilities. I improved my own health through her program. She also brought me on to help behind the scenes making everything run smoothly. She saw the benefit of having people with disabilities not only workout with her. They also worked with her to bring greater awareness to healthy living, regardless of your abilities. I truly loved what I did for Amy. I have yet to find another job that offered the same level of flexibility. It also provided fulfillment.

    Unfortunately, SSDI barely covers my monthly expenses. It doesn’t give me the flexibility to do the things I enjoy, like traveling or going out with friends. Living on a fixed income can be incredibly limiting.

    According to the National Organization on Disability, many people with disabilities face financial insecurity. They also encounter systemic bias and physical barriers. These obstacles prevent equal access to job opportunities.

    And yet, studies by Accenture show that companies prioritizing disability inclusion perform well. They are also twice as likely to be innovative.

    The Bigger Picture: You’re Not Just Hearing My Story

    This isn’t just my story. It’s the story of many people in the disability community. They want to work. They are ready to work. They constantly run into walls—both visible and invisible. It’s time to break those walls down.

    Call to Action

    We need employers, policymakers, and communities to step up. Employers must rethink hiring practices to eliminate bias and prioritize inclusion. Lawmakers need to protect Social Security and invest in programs that support people with disabilities, not strip them away. And for those reading this: listen to our stories. Share them. Advocate for change. Because no one should be shut out of opportunity simply because society hasn’t caught up to our potential.

    Sources:

  • The Cost of Loyalty: What It Takes to Be a Season Ticket Holder

    The Cost of Loyalty: What It Takes to Be a Season Ticket Holder

    I wasn’t planning to write this today. I sit here and look out at the dreary Minnesota sky. I know there’s a significant chance I won’t attend tonight’s Minnesota United FC match. I felt like I needed to put some thoughts down.

    Quick note: I’m part of AccessiLoons—Minnesota United FC’s first and only supporter group focused on accessibility and inclusion. However, everything I share here is based on my personal experience. It doesn’t reflect the views of the group.

    This will be the second game I’ve missed this season—and not because I’ve lost interest or stopped caring. Far from it. I’ve been a season ticket holder since 2015. That was long before the team joined MLS and before Allianz Field was even a blueprint. Supporting this team has been one of the most consistent and joyful parts of my life.

    But tonight, like many nights, I’m forced to weigh the realities of being a fan with a disability. The weather is cold, windy, and there’s a chance of rain or snow. And rain and power chairs don’t mix well.

    After last weekend’s afternoon match, my wheelchair started to malfunction on the way home. Thankfully, I made it back safely and the issue didn’t repeat itself—but moments like that stick with you.

    Every time I head out in this type of weather, there’s that voice in the back of my mind:

    • “Is my chair going to malfunction again?”
    • “Will I get stranded somewhere?”
    • “What do I do if something goes wrong?”

    It makes you cautious at times about leaving the house.

    This post isn’t just about one missed game. It’s about what it really takes to be a loyal fan in 2025—financially, physically, and emotionally.

    When Passion Meets Practicality

    I’ve always budgeted for my season tickets. When I was working full time, the yearly price increases didn’t hit as hard. Even during the pandemic, I had enough money coming in to keep my seats. Soccer was one of the few constants during an unpredictable time.

    But when the world reopened, my income didn’t bounce back as ticket prices continued to rise. Something that once felt like a justifiable splurge now feels like a financial stretch.

    Still, giving them up feels impossible. Supporting this team is part of my identity. It’s how I connect with friends. It’s where I feel community. But loyalty, especially on a fixed or limited income, comes with a price—and that price keeps going up.

    Accessibility Isn’t Just About Seats

    Being a fan with a disability adds another layer to all of this.

    Sometimes, I simply can’t attend—even when I want to. The home opener in March is always a weather gamble, and this year was no exception. That was in the evening—and I had just worked an afternoon shift at U.S. Bank Stadium. I was already cold and running low on energy. I didn’t know if I had the stamina—or the body regulation—to sit through the full match.

    As someone with limited mobility, I can’t generate much body heat. Once the sun goes down, so does the temperature—and so does my ability to safely enjoy the game.

    I made it to the match the weekend before because it was an early afternoon kickoff. It was still cold, but the sun made it manageable. That little bit of warmth made all the difference.

    And then after the issues with my wheelchair after last weeks game there’s the added layer of equipment concerns. It was enough to shake my confidence. Now, every time I head out , I have to ask:

    • What if my chair stops working?
    • What if I get stuck far from home?
    • Who do I call?
    • Will anyone be able to help?

    That kind of risk doesn’t factor into most fans’ decisions to attend a match. For disabled fans, it’s part of the mental math every single time.

    To be clear, many of these challenges aren’t unique to Minnesota United or Allianz Field. The stadium staff has generally been supportive, and there are accessible features in place. But even well-designed venues can fall short when the full spectrum of disability isn’t considered. These issues show up in stadiums across the country—and they’re often invisible to those who don’t live with them.

    Some of the most common barriers disabled fans face include:

    • Cold or extreme temperatures that are dangerous for fans with mobility or circulation limitations.
    • The distances from parking or public transit stops are long. They can feel like a marathon for those with fatigue. This is also true for those with chronic pain.
    • Crowded concourses and bottlenecks that create safety issues for wheelchair users and others needing space.
    • Ticket policies with little flexibility, even when health issues make last-minute changes necessary.
    • Energy management challenges—sometimes, it’s not about willpower. It’s about knowing your body has limits.

    The Marketplace Problem

    When I can’t attend, I turn to the SeatGeek Marketplace to resell my tickets. But that experience isn’t fan-friendly either.

    I need to list the tickets above face value to cover SeatGeek’s 10% seller fee. This is necessary to just break even. On top of that, buyers are charged another 10% fee. That’s a 20% markup just for a resale—not to make a profit, just to avoid losing money. And guess what? Most people won’t pay that.

    So now, I’m out the money, and I missed the game. It adds insult to injury.

    Lately, I’ve found myself quietly wondering what the future holds. I’m not ready to give up my season ticket membership yet. However, I’m starting to reevaluate things. The rising costs, the physical strain, the uncertainty that comes with each game—it all adds up.

    At some point, I may have to ask myself whether this version of loyalty is still sustainable for me. I love this team. I’m not going anywhere as a supporter. However, being a season ticket holder might look different down the road.

    Let’s Do Better—for All Fans

    If you work for a team, a supporter group, or even a ticketing platform, ask yourself a question. What are you doing to make sure disabled fans are fully included?

    Accessibility isn’t just about wheelchair spaces or ADA check boxes. It’s about understanding the full picture. This includes weather risks, energy limits, and malfunctioning mobility equipment. Resale policies also matter. Then, there is the emotional toll of being excluded from something you love.

    If you’re not thinking about all types of access, you’re leaving people behind.

  • Holding Onto Love: A Reflection on Loss and Love

    I’m sitting here writing my next story when Wherever You Are by my friend Ellis starts playing in my ears. Just like that, memories flood my mind. They are the people who have passed on and left this world.

    “I’m still here, after I’m gone. In the birds singing their love songs, in the summer sun let me warm your heart. ‘Cause I will always be wherever you are.” – Ellis Delaney

    Three years ago today, my Grandma Marlys Hoiland passed on to whatever is next. These are my thoughts and feelings through the lens of a child, and now an adult. Sometimes, we just need to put words to the emotions we carry. For me, this was one of those times.

    There is just something about grandparents. As a little kid, I feel like I spent a lot of my time with her and my Grandpa Roger. I vaguely remember the Easter Bunny stopping at her house instead of mine. I think we were staying with Grandpa and Grandma. Mom and Dad were gone somewhere.

    One of the coolest things about her? She was a school bus driver. When we went on field trips, there was always a chance she’d be the one behind the wheel. For little me, that was the best thing ever.

    Grandma Marlys standing in the snow next to a yellow school bus with ‘Benson School District 777’ written on the side.

    But when my grandpa Roger passed in the summer of 1994, things changed. I was just a kid—too young to fully understand what was happening, but old enough to feel the shift. I wanted to spend time with my grandma, but I was afraid to ask. The issues the adults in my life had with each other weren’t mine to carry, but they affected me anyway. So I kept my distance because I didn’t want to make things difficult.

    Years later, when I moved to Hutchinson to attend college, I got the chance to reconnect with her. It felt like I was trying to make up for lost time. I made a point to enjoy the moments we had, and to be present. I didn’t bring up the past or the complicated family dynamics—I just wanted to be her grandson.

    Grandma Marlys sitting next to Levi, both wearing glasses, in a cozy living room setting.

    Then life took me to the big city, and time slipped away again. As things settled down at school, I promised myself I’d see her at least once a year. I kept that promise for many years. I was lucky to have an amazing friend. He would drive me the two-and-a-half-hour drive, just so I could spend an hour or so with her. We shared a meal and a laugh.

    Grandma Marlys in a blue hoodie, resting her arm on her Levi's as they sit close together in a warmly lit home setting.

    When she got sick, we all knew time was short. The family planned a birthday party for her, knowing it would be her last. Once again, my friends rallied around me. They drove me back to that small town. This allowed me to be there. I told her I loved her. I told her I was sorry I didn’t do more. I felt it deeply in my heart. I knew it would be the last time I’d get to say what I had been holding onto for years.

    On March 20, 2022, she passed. One final time, my friends stood by me. They drove me to her funeral because they knew—just as I did—that I needed to be there.

    “If you don’t want to, don’t say goodbye. Say I’ll see you around the next time.” – Ellis Delaney

    As a child, I didn’t have control over the choices being made around me. I felt powerless to bridge the gaps that had formed. But as an adult, I can make my own choices.

    I can choose to reach out, to show up, to hold onto the people I love while they’re still here. I can choose not to let the past dictate my present.

    I am not capable of changing what happened, but I can learn from it. And I can make sure that when I look back, I have no regrets about the love I’ve given.

    Love is something we can choose to hold onto, even when time and distance try to pull us apart. It’s in the memories, the laughter, and the simple moments we share.

    I carry my love for Grandma Marlys with me, not just in my heart. It is clear in how I choose to live. I strive to be present. I cherish those I care about. I also never let love go unspoken.

    I can’t change the past. I can only strive to be a better person. I aim to do what I know is right. I want to honor the people I love while I still have time.

    I love you, Grandma Marlys. Always.

    Check out my friend Ellis Delaney and their song Wherever You Are on Bandcamp.

  • LGBTQIA+ Community Under Attack

    LGBTQIA+ Community Under Attack

    The first days of any presidency set the tone for the administration’s priorities. For President Donald Trump’s return to office, that tone has been clear—an outright attack on LGBTQIA+ rights. From executive orders restricting gender identity recognition to questionable leadership appointments, his policies are already harming individuals in my community. As someone who values equality and dignity for all, I cannot stay silent.

    Erasing Gender Identity: A Blow to Trans Rights

    One of Trump’s first executive orders has a controversial title. It is titled Defending Women from Gender Ideology Extremism and Restoring Biological Truth to the Federal Government. It mandates that all federal documents must reflect an individual’s sex assigned at birth. This effectively strips away recognition and rights for transgender Americans at the federal level.

    The real-world consequences of this policy are devastating. Euphoria star Hunter Schafer recently shared a troubling experience. Her newly issued passport listed her gender as male.

    This happened despite her legal documentation reflecting her gender as female for years. This is not just an inconvenience. It is an erasure of identity. This act could lead to further discrimination or challenges in travel, employment, and everyday life.

    A Culture War in the Arts: The Kennedy Center Controversy

    Trump’s influence extends beyond policy it reaches into the cultural fabric of the nation. Trump appointed Richard Grenell as executive director of the Kennedy Center. This appointment quickly led to Trump’s own placement as chairman of the board.

    Shortly after, the Kennedy Center canceled a Pride performance featuring the Gay Men’s Chorus of Washington. The official stance claims the decision preceded Trump’s takeover. It was due to scheduling and financial issues. Skepticism is warranted based on past social media posts by President Trump.

    Trump made a post on his social media platform, Truth Social, on February 7, 2025. This post only fuels doubts about the real motivations behind this decision.

    The message is clear: spaces that once championed inclusiveness and diversity are being reshaped to fit a restrictive, exclusionary agenda. The LGBTQIA+ community is being pushed aside, told that our voices, stories, and identities are no longer welcome.

    What Can We Do?

    Living in Minnesota, a predominantly Democratic-led state, I am fortunate to have leadership that will likely resist these harmful policies. However, that does not mean I can be complacent. National-level attacks require a national response. Here are some ways I—and anyone who shares these concerns—can take action:

    Call and Write to Federal Representatives

    State leadership may resist these policies. However, our federal representatives still play a critical role. Contact senators and members of Congress to demand that they take a stand against these executive orders.

    Support Advocacy Organizations

    Groups like the ACLU, Human Rights Campaign, and National Center for Transgender Equality are fighting these policies. They are taking legal action in court. They are challenging these policies through legal means. Donations, volunteering, and spreading awareness can help them continue their work.

    Amplify Voices of Those Affected

    The stories of transgender individuals and LGBTQIA+ artists being impacted by these policies need to be heard. Sharing their experiences on social media, engaging in discussions, and supporting LGBTQIA+ creators can help push back against this erasure.

    Vote and Encourage Voter Registration

    The 2026 midterm elections will be crucial. Ensuring that pro-equality candidates take office is one of the most effective ways to push back against harmful policies.

    Use My Platform

    Wheels On Down the Road was created to foster open discussion, and now is the time to use it. I can contribute to the national conversation by writing, sharing, and engaging with others. I can also push back against this administration’s regressive agenda.

    Final Thoughts

    The fight for LGBTQIA+ rights is far from over. The setbacks we face today will require resilience. Unity and action are also needed. Trump’s policies attempt to erase identities, silence voices, and dismantle progress. But we are still here. We are still fighting.

    I refuse to let this administration dictate the value of people in my community. Now is the time to stand up, speak out, and take action.

    Sources:

    Trump, D. J. (2025, January 20). Defending women from gender ideology extremism and restoring biological truth to the federal government. The White House. Retrieved from https://www.whitehouse.gov/presidential-actions/2025/01/defending-women-from-gender-ideology-extremism-and-restoring-biological-truth-to-the-federal-government/

    Yurcaba, J. (2025, February 10). ‘Euphoria’ star Hunter Schafer issued male passport due to Trump’s policy. NBC News. Retrieved from https://www.nbcnews.com/nbc-out/out-news/euphoria-star-hunter-schafer-issued-male-passport-rcna193212

    Wilkie, C. (2025, February 12). Kennedy Center cancels Pride performance featuring Gay Men’s Chorus of Washington. The Hill. Retrieved from https://thehill.com/homenews/administration/5154147-kennedy-center-cancels-gay-chorus-performance/

    Trump, D. J. (2025, February 7). Post on Truth Social. Retrieved from https://truthsocial.com/@realDonaldTrump/posts/113964959500715895

  • Presidents’ Day and Disability: A Hidden History

    Presidents’ Day and Disability: A Hidden History

    Today’s post is a history lesson, but I hope you find it enlightening rather than dull. It’s Presidents’ Day, a holiday originally created to celebrate George Washington’s birthday on February 22. As the nation grew and elected more presidents, the holiday evolved into a day to honor all U.S. presidents.

    Presidents and Disabilities: A Lesser-Known History

    Since this blog focuses on disability, you might wonder why I’m writing about Presidents’ Day. The reason? Many past U.S. presidents have had disabilities—some visible, some hidden. Growing up, I had dreams of becoming president, thinking I would be the first disabled person to hold the office. However, history proves otherwise.

    One of the most well-known examples is Franklin Delano Roosevelt (FDR). According to Wikipedia, FDR was elected in 1932 as the 32nd president of the United States. He remains the only physically disabled president in U.S. history. FDR led the country through the Great Depression. He also guided the nation during World War II. He implemented the New Deal and reshaped the American economy.

    Before he moved into the White House, ramps were installed to make it more wheelchair-friendly. To maintain his public image, photos were taken at specific angles to minimize the visibility of his disability.

    FDR’s Disability and Advocacy

    FDR began experiencing symptoms of a paralytic illness in 1921 at age 39 and was later diagnosed with poliomyelitis. He underwent extensive therapy, including hydrotherapy at Warm Springs, Georgia. Although paralyzed from the waist down, he made great efforts to conceal his reliance on a wheelchair and leg braces. In 1938, he founded the National Foundation for Infantile Paralysis, which played a crucial role in developing polio vaccines. While most historical records attribute his condition to polio, some modern experts suggest he may have had Guillain–Barré syndrome.

    Disability advocate Hugh Gallagher argued that Roosevelt went to great lengths to appear able-bodied, stating:

    “FDR did not want the public to be aware that he was forced to use a wheelchair.”

    President Roosevelt in his wheelchair on the porch at Top Cottage in Hyde Park, NY with Ruthie Bie and Fala. February 1941.
    FDR Presidential Library & Museum photograph by Margaret Suckley CC BY 2.0 via Wikimedia Commons

    In contrast, historian James Tobin suggested that Roosevelt used his disability as a strength. He portrayed himself as a fighter and an underdog. He did this rather than becoming someone to pity.

    In one of his rare public acknowledgments of his disability, Roosevelt addressed Congress on March 1, 1945, just a month before his death:

    “I hope that you will pardon me for this unusual posture of sitting down, but I know you will realize that it makes it a lot easier for me not to have to carry about ten pounds of steel around on the bottom of my legs.”

    Franklin Roosevelt is depicted in his wheelchair in the Prologue Room of the Franklin Delano Roosevelt Memorial National Park Service photo

    Designing an Inclusive Legacy: The FDR Memorial

    Even after his passing, the National Park Service ensured his memorial was accessible. According to NPS, landscape architect Lawrence Halprin designed the FDR Memorial with wheelchair ramps. He incorporated interactive statues and Braille engravings. These features made it accessible long before the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) was enacted.

    Other Presidents with Disabilities

    FDR was not the only president with a disability. According to United Rehabilitation Services of Greater Dayton, many U.S. presidents had disabilities, ranging from epilepsy to learning disabilities. Here are a few:

    • George Washington (1st President, 1789-1797): Believed to have had a learning disability due to struggles with spelling and grammar.
    • Thomas Jefferson (3rd President, 1801-1809): Reportedly had a learning disability despite being a principal author of the Declaration of Independence.
    • James Madison (4th President, 1809-1817): Had epilepsy but played a key role in drafting the U.S. Constitution.
    • Abraham Lincoln (16th President, 1861-1865): Battled severe depression and possibly had Marfan Syndrome.
    • Theodore Roosevelt (26th President, 1901-1909): Suffered from visual impairment due to a boxing injury.
    • Woodrow Wilson (28th President, 1913-1921): Had a learning disability, possibly dyslexia, and suffered a stroke while in office.
    • John F. Kennedy (35th President, 1961-1963): Experienced chronic back pain and is suspected to have had a learning disability.
    • Ronald Reagan (40th President, 1981-1989): Developed hearing impairment due to an on-set accident during his acting career.
    • Bill Clinton (42nd President, 1993-2001): Has high-frequency hearing loss and wears hearing aids.

    A Legacy of Strength and Resilience

    Throughout American history, presidents with disabilities have faced unique challenges, yet they persevered to lead the nation. Their stories highlight the importance of resilience and show that disabilities do not define a person’s potential.

    This Presidents’ Day, as we honor the leaders of our country, let’s also recognize the barriers they overcame. Disability should never be seen as a limitation—it is simply one aspect of the diverse experiences that shape great leaders.

  • Help Wanted?

    Help Wanted?

    “Do you need help?”

    This is a question that many people with disabilities, including myself, face daily. While it is often asked with good intentions, it can be an awkward or even frustrating experience for both the person offering assistance and the one being asked.

    Understanding the Context

    I recognize that offers of help usually stem from a place of kindness. In most situations, I will either accept the assistance or politely decline. However, the decision is rarely a simple one. Various factors influence how I respond.

    Take, for example, the buttons that automatically open doors. When I am out with my service dog, I typically decline offers from others to open doors for me. The reason is straightforward. My dog is trained to perform that task. If people frequently intervene, he may start to expect others to do it for him.

    That does not mean I refuse all forms of assistance. If someone is already holding the door open as they walk through, I will pass through as well. I have also observed this: many people find it fascinating to watch a service dog. They enjoy seeing it complete tasks it has been trained to do.

    On the other hand, there are situations where assistance is both welcome and necessary. For instance, if something is out of my reach like an object on a high shelf I appreciate the help.

    One particular instance stands out: while walking my dog, he once relieved himself just beyond my safe grasp. Despite my best efforts, I could not reach the mess. A businessman in a three-piece suit walked past, saw my struggle, and offered to help. I gratefully accepted because I understood the physical exertion required to complete the task on my own.

    Individual Perspectives Vary

    It is important to recognize that not all disabled individuals feel the same way about receiving help. Some welcome assistance, while others strongly prefer independence. I have encountered individuals who become frustrated or even angry when assistance is offered. This reaction may stem from viewing help as a sign of weakness. They may also be newly disabled and still adjusting to their limitations.

    How Can You Help?

    People often ask me what they should do in these situations, but there is no universal answer. The best approach is simple: ask. If someone accepts your help, that is wonderful. If they decline or appear irritated by the offer, do not take it personally. More often than not, their reaction is based on their personal experiences rather than a reflection of you.

    What You Should NOT Do

    One crucial rule to remember is never assume someone needs help and act without asking. Walking up and intervening without permission can be disruptive, and in some cases, dangerous. For example, when I transfer from my wheelchair, balance is critical. If someone were to assist me without warning, they could unintentionally cause me to lose balance. This action might lead to a fall, putting both of us at risk.

    Conclusion

    Offering help is a kind and thoughtful gesture, but it must be done with consideration and respect. The best way to assist someone with a disability is to ask first and accept their response without judgment. Understanding that every individual has different needs and preferences will create a more inclusive and respectful environment for everyone.

    So, the next time you see someone who needs help, remember: a simple question—“Would you like some assistance?”—can go a long way in fostering understanding and respect.

  • An Invitation to the Table

    An Invitation to the Table

    Last week, I found myself at a local coffee shop, seated at one of the accessible tables. My belongings were spread out, coffee in hand, ready to tackle some work. The table bore a small marker—a symbol indicating it was designated for wheelchair users like me. But as I sat there, I began to ponder the true meaning of that symbol.

    The purpose of such designations is to ensure that people with disabilities have a space where they can comfortably work, eat, or simply exist in a public setting. It is an acknowledgment that accessibility matters. But here’s the thing: while the table may be designed with accessibility in mind, it is not a table just for me. It is a table for anyone who needs it.

    If someone had approached me and asked, “Can I sit here too?” my answer would have been a resounding yes. Because that table, while accessible, is not exclusive. It is a space for anyone—a place to rest, to gather thoughts, to work, or simply to breathe.

    I think about all the possibilities that table represents. It could be a refuge for someone needing a break from the rush of the day, setting down their burdens alongside their coffee cup. It could be a haven for a book lover, lost in a story. Or maybe it is where a casual conversation begins, sparked by the big, goofy yellow dog lying quietly beneath the table, tail wagging at the possibility of a friendly pet.

    We live in a world where our focus is often directed inward—our own lives, our own struggles. We sometimes forget to notice the people sitting just a few feet away. Too often, we see others as strangers, obstacles, or distractions instead of potential connections.

    But what if we shifted our perspective? What if we saw spaces like that accessible table not as individual territories, but as shared places, open to all? What if we recognized them as opportunities to connect?

    I believe we need more moments where we simply sit together, whether to chat or to exist quietly in each other’s company. There is something powerful about being present with another person, even if only for a short while.

    So, if you ever see me at a table like that, do not hesitate. Walk up, meet my eyes, and ask, “Can I sit here too?” And I will say yes, gladly inviting you to share the space. Because at the end of the day, that table is not just for me—it is for anyone who needs it.

    Maybe we will talk about life, about our mutual love for this coffee shop, or about the silly antics of our dogs. Or maybe we will simply sit in silence, each focused on our own tasks, comforted by the presence of another person nearby.

    In a world that often feels isolating, taking a seat at the table might just be the first step toward creating a little more connection, understanding, and community.