We often tend to view the world solely through our personal perspective. This may be due to ignorance, or perhaps we’ve never considered seeing the world through a different lens.
This is especially true when it comes to disability. In general, it tends to be overlooked, stigmatized, and packaged differently from its true nature. Yet, it undeniably exists. It speaks louder than many realize, inspires more than one can imagine, and possesses greater capabilities than others might think.
Perhaps human nature prevents us from truly understanding another person’s experience until we walk a mile in their shoes, or in this case, use their wheelchair. Maybe we need to try on every pair of shoes in the world to comprehend every step someone takes. It may seem like I’m searching for words to form elegant phrases, but my experience at the Empathy Retreat confirmed these ideas.
We must recognize and acknowledge that disability exists, whether it’s a part of us or whether we choose to ignore it. As someone in the first category, I strive to show those in the latter that you can lead a perfectly normal life despite society’s preconceptions.
The only thing that hinders me, let’s say, is the unfriendly wheelchair environment. Some may imagine how challenging it is to navigate a 10cm curb in a wheelchair, but how many have truly experienced it?
We need more social experiments like the one organized during the second day of the Empathy Retreat in 2022. Here, people without disabilities saw Sibiu through the eyes of people with disabilities. Whether they were companions, temporary wheelchair users, temporarily blindfolded, or had their hearing temporarily impaired, they all experienced the city differently. They saw the streets, buildings, and open spaces as obstacles and barriers they encounter every day. Were they aware of these barriers before? Yes. Did it change how they would relate to them in the future? Absolutely.
This raises the question: how do we make others see that inclusive design is not just a passing trend? We put them in our shoes, or, in my case, our wheels.
For me, what made this experience so significant was the human factor. The event brought together architects, urban planners, local councilors, activists from the queer spectrum, people with visual, locomotor, hearing, or neurodivergent disabilities, and people without disabilities. It created a microcosm of society, whether we realized it or not. Beyond the team activities, we formed a large group in our ‘free time,’ sharing stories, laughter, and understanding. There were no smaller groups, no one felt excluded, and no one excluded others. If a group of 36 people could achieve this, why couldn’t we extend this energy to a larger scale?
In conclusion, the Empathy Retreat provided the fresh perspective each of us needed. So, I can confidently say that society needs more experiences like this. Today, it’s me; tomorrow, it could be you. In the future, it should be everyone.
