A movement is afoot to get rid of the iconic wheelchair symbol on handicapped parking spaces. People often expect to see a wheelchair getting in or out of the car, if it is parked in a handicapped parking spot. The person may be ignored, but the wheelchair gets a response. “Tick. OK. Needs the handicapped spot.”
The handicapped designation is NOT reserved for people in wheelchairs. Parents of children with disabilities may require a handicapped space. People with braces you can’t even see or breathing problems that limit the amount of walking they can do may have a handicapped designation. It is up to a family doctor to determine if an individual needs to apply for a handicapped parking permit.
Unfortunately, our visual apparatus is largely to blame for making us quick to judge whether someone deserves a handicapped designation or not. Our eyes want to put what we perceive into categories, as fast as possible, so that we can go on about our business without spending time having to figure out what we see. If the person parking in a handicapped space looks disabled, fine. If they don’t, the tick mark goes next to the box marked, “Wrong! Scofflaw! Cheat! Not nice person!”
States and cities are being encouraged to adopt a new symbol that depicts a person in a wheelchair and in motion (CBS News, 10/16/2015). The person is as integral to the sign as the wheelchair. That is an important change. It is a small way to educate the general public that those who park in a handicapped spot have different abilities. They may or may not have a wheelchair and may or may not look like they are able-bodied. Above all, the spot is for a person. The person with that vehicle is working with some form of handicap.
Soon, those parking spaces may be marked “reserved,” rather than “handicapped plates only.” It’s all part of the same effort to help the general public understand that members of the disability community need those spaces for a wide variety of reasons. I hope they also write “no parking” on the diagonal lines.
I was parked in a handicapped space outside the drug store the other day (I wear an ankle brace). While I was picking up my prescription, a FedEx truck driver backed his truck onto the diagonal lines that are painted between two handicapped spaces in order to leave room for vehicle ramps and wheelchairs. He wanted to save himself the trouble of walking a few extra feet with his dolly of cartons.
There isn’t room on those diagonal lines for a delivery truck to park. He left a mere inch or two on either side, blocking 
both cars in the handicapped spots. When I went into the store to find him and explain, he ignored me and finished his business, which meant I stood on my crappy ankle with the brace for longer than it can tolerate.
When he finally pushed his dolly outside, I tried to have a conversation with him about caring about the people who need those parking spaces. He tried to tell me that the diagonal lines were reserved for delivery trucks! And he was cheeky about it! “You see that cop car over there? Go ask him if you don’t believe me.”
In this awful time of the coronavirus, with its necessary social distancing, I have been wondering if people might give some thought to the big issues. While I can appreciate that for parents of preschool and school-aged children, these days can be wearying, how about the rest of us? Can we let the social isolation slow us down a little? Can we consider what a difference it makes to treat one another with kindness and respect?
This seems like such a good time to understand that our individuality thrives in direct proportion to our concern for the common good. When we take care of others, we are nurturing our own well-being.
