Erin Kelly offers her thoughts on the Orlando shooting.
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When I was young, I didn’t think much about the world and its tendencies to be dangerous or harmful. I didn’t think of the world as a breeding ground for negativity, though I knew it existed. I saw negativity differently—as a sea of staring, wondering eyes because of my disability. It wasn’t because I didn’t know any better. That was just the extent of my view at the time.
My eyes were opened as I got older. I slowly began to see that my perception wasn’t altogether wrong—but it wasn’t right, either. I realized that some people aren’t who or what they say they are, and their ability to hurt and harm others sometimes outweighs everything else. I knew that after a friend had stabbed me in the back because I was in a wheelchair—which suddenly made me radically different in his eyes.
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It was a humbling but scary thing for me to come to terms with, for the simple fact I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t want it to be real. Now as an adult, it’s a different story. I realize now, probably more than ever, that one can never truly escape or deny reality. You may be able to leave it or even forget about it for a while, but you always have to face it or come back to it at some point.
When I look at the mass shooting that took place in Orlando a few weeks ago, I’m reminded that this is a vicious, violent cycle. I heard about the shooting the day after it happened—when it popped up on my newsfeed on Facebook. It was early morning. I had just woken up to check my phone and a few sources were reporting on it here and there, presumably because details were just trickling in. I turned my phone off and laid in my bed for about two hours before starting the day.
I turned my phone back on to find my newsfeed flooded with headlines and updated statistics. The death toll was first reported as 50 before getting bumped down 49 in addition to the 53 others who were injured. Then I read that the youngest victim killed was only 18. At this point, I put my phone down—to wipe the sleep from my eyes and to try to make some sense of what I’d just read. It didn’t come.
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The first things I thought of were, ‘What if that were me?’ ‘What if I somehow found myself in this type of situation?’ I’ve asked myself this many times when I’ve read news of shootings and situations where people intentionally hurt others. This was the first time, however, where I could actually feel just how vulnerable my cerebral palsy makes me by default. This was the first time when I knew that if this can happen to a healthy, able-bodied person, it absolutely can happen to me.
I couldn’t seem to get the question of, ‘What if it were me?’ out of my head. My brain would know to drive away at the highest speed my motorized wheelchair would go, but my body would be too slow to react—and I’d get shot. If I’d already been shot and dragged out of my chair, I’d likely die trying to crawl away. I think my vulnerability would completely outweigh my chances of survival, and there’s no doubt in my mind the shooter would see that and take full advantage.
That’s a scary thing to wrap my head around, but I’m grateful to have the capacity to think this way. There are a lot of people with disabilities who don’t have that capability, so I don’t take it for granted. On the flipside of that, I’m not sure what I’d do if I couldn’t think for myself.
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As the world regroups in the aftermath of America’s latest tragedy, I can’t help to think back to my friend who disregarded me. I’m thinking about how he threw away our friendship because of a part of my identity—the same way those 49 people died because of their sexuality. I remind myself that what my friend did hurt me, but his actions didn’t hurt the world. In contrast, the actions of one man—one killer—have forever changed the lives of more than 100 families—in what President Barack Obama has called the deadliest shooting in US history.
What’s wrong with that picture? I’ll just leave you with this: If mankind can harm or kill someone because of their sexual orientation or disability, who—or what—is next?
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Photo Credit: money.cnn.com