A blog reader asks, in relation to my lament against a person with a disability being automatically characterized as an inspiration, "Why can't you just be gracious and accept the good will that's being offered to you?"
If the question is directed at me, I can say I do, although admittedly my graciousness consists of a nod and a smile.
If the question is directed at people with disabilities as a class, I think the point is been missed, that point being it demands a standard no one can live up to all the time. It robs the person with a disability the right to a fallible human response to situations encountered.
A writer I admire left a note about the subject on Facebook quoting Dylan Thomas' poem, "A Refusal to Mourn The Death, By Fire, of a Child in London," which she suggests "the idea that as soon as we start eulogizing someone, we start fictionalizing their actual experience of life and actual personality, and co-opting what was once theirs for our own purposes."
With that insight in mind, I suppose the question then becomes Why does someone want to classify a person with a disability as "an inspiration?"
The only way I can understand that thought is to turn it upside down: why do I find certain people inspiring?
There are hundreds of people and hundreds of reasons from the historic (Abraham Lincoln and Joshua Chamberlain) to people in the news.
With those three penned here from the top of my head, I sense that I am inspired by moral or physical courage. I suppose I am an average sort. Few there are who will argue physical or moral courage is uninspiring. We humans are apparently wired to respect those qualities because we instinctively realize they work for the common good.
But it takes no great degree of moral or physical courage to live using a wheelchair. For me it may only be a bastard marriage between fear (of death) and (genetic) endurance.
That I use a wheelchair and want to be happy and productive means Nothing (in the Zen concept) and Many Things Not Entirely True (in the subjective emotional perceptions of the observer).
And to me: it apparently means I think about it too much.