It's a cold Friday afternoon in April reminding us that the warm weather we had, in Chicago IL, a few weeks ago, during March, was a loan and we were paying for it now. We've just finished Jumu'ah (Friday Prayer) and have sat down to have some early dinner, drink coffee and talk with other congregants. My mother is on her way to work and lets me know that my father's ride should arrive shortly.
Numerous peeks out the window, several trips to the corner, all to discover that, without conscience, the driver never showed up and he ,or she, has reported my father as a no-show.
Several phone calls to dispatch, and two hours later a sullen looking driver, giving terse one word answers, arrives to take my father home. I walk with him to the van, place his ramp inside and wait for the driver to secure his chair to the floor.
My father is, among other things, a disabled senior citizen confined to a wheel chair. At 64 years old he's a 9 year stroke and heart attack survivor and travels primarily by handicap accessible van. He's a retired Structural Ironworker (Local #1 ), U.S. Veteran (USAF/USA-ANG), respected martial artist, writer, community organizer, Imam, and also one of the most well read people on any number of subjects you could ever dream of meeting.
Despite what he has accomplished in life, his gracefully graying presence in a wheelchair affixes the label of disabled-senior to him, which in the minds of the ignorant means, powerless, ready for the picking, and of no account. The original driver's failure to show up and his/her statement that my father was a no-show is emblematic of that ignorance.
I cringe to think, how many elderly and disabled fall victim to this type of laziness and hardheartedness? My father is still mentally sharp and more than capable of fighting his own battles, but I'm thankful he has my mother and the rest of the family to advocate for him as well. What of those who are unable to speak for themselves? What of those who have no one to advocate for them? They sit frustrated and powerless, being made to feel of no account.
Something as simple as arriving on time with a smile to pick up a passenger, can make all the difference in how a person transitions from a "normal life" to negotiating life in the sphere of the "Handicapped", "Disabled", or "Differently Abled."
People working in industries offering provider services to seniors and the disabled take on a responsibility which they are likely never to be justly (monetarily) compensated for (there should certainly be some reform in this area). I've met some really dedicated and beautiful people, working in this industry; unfortunately, they are the exception and not the norm. These individuals are depended on by people to take care of their mothers, fathers, grandparents, and sometimes their husbands and wives. They have every expectation that their loved ones, or they themselves, will be treated with dignity, patience, and respect, and every fear that they will not be. The fear is to be looked at as a broken vessel with no worth, and no voice.
In light of the United States increasing senior population, coupled with medical advancements which have lengthened the life expectancy of stroke and heart attack victims, conversations around how to best serve them will continue to come to the fore. Among these conversations the criteria regarding the quality of care and service provided to these individuals must be reexamined.
Regardless of where a person falls in the hierarchy of those entrusted to serve our senior, disabled, or both, they must embody a prerequisite modicum of integrity, civility, and respect.
It's said that you can judge a society based on how well it treats its young and its elderly. If this is true, we have a long way to go.
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