I visited a couple friends last night, both of whom have SMA. When you have more than two gimps in the same room, the atmosphere becomes something akin to a bunch of army buddies swapping war stories. We exchanged anecdotes regarding the eccentricities of past PCAs and nurses, remarked on the exorbitantly high prices of adapted minivans, and discussed when it’s more appropriate to use “gimp” versus “cripple”. There we all were, with our respective partners and/or care providers in attendance, whiling away an ordinary evening. But I wondered how ordinary we would seem to some passerby who happened to glance through the window.
I didn’t have many friends with disabilities when I was growing up. I desperately wanted to assimilate with the able-bodied kids and not be clumped in with all the special-ed students in my school. When I think about the birthday parties I had as a kid, I don’t remember inviting many peers with disabilities. Eventually, I got over myself, but some traces of guilt still remain for the way I may have ignored or mocked some of the kids with whom I grew up. And so when I was hanging out with my friends last night, I thought about how nice it would have been to have a circle of friends like this when I was struggling on a more daily basis with the insecurities of being a gimp in a world that is entirely too normal.
