At my instigation, Mark and I went to Norway last week to see the Northern Lights. We had a terrific time. (If you want to see just one image, go to the online version of the newsletter.)
Mark found an accessible tour, so I saw the lights from two perspectives: standing in the cold—and sitting in the van. The cold didn’t worry me. We have winter clothing, and the guide brought more clothing, including boots! However, I can’t stand with my head back for long periods of time. (That vertigo thing.)
Our guide asked about my capabilities in advance, so we had no surprises and a great time. No one had any assumptions—we clarified everything in advance.
Contrast that with my experience flying home.
If the airline delivers my rollator to the gate and there’s a jet bridge, I’m totally capable of managing my way around any airport.
However, sometimes, the airline uses stairs as a transition. While I can do stairs, I’m not good at them, especially going down with open stairs. (Yes, a vertigo gift.) And, most of the time, there’s an elevator right there for those of us who have trouble with stairs.
In Paris, we had that set of open stairs that led to a bus. (I assume this was all about passport control.) And there was a lift (elevator) literally steps from the top of the stairs. However, the airline person would not allow me to take the lift and get on the regular bus. They knew what I needed (an assumption), and that was the mobility-challenged airport bus. (That’s a bus with an elevator that unloads or loads people from one of the aircraft doors.)
I know how to manage any and all of the buses—the buses were not the problem. The problem was their assumptions about my abilities.
What and When Do You Assume?
I suspect that when people see the rollator, they assume I amble, and slowly. I’m pretty slow on ice and snow. But give me a flat floor, and I build up a head of steam. I bump into people all the time—especially at airports—when they cut in front of me and stop. I can’t slow down as fast as they can. They assume I’m slow and can stop on a dime. Nope. I’m faster than they think and I need a couple of steps to slow down.
I wonder about their assumptions because these people speed up to go around me and stop.
The airport staff thought I was unable to take a normal bus, so they needed to escort me everywhere I needed to be. Not true.
Because of their assumptions, they took my boarding pass. That meant I was under their control with no agency and no options. They infantilized me (treated me like a baby who can’t do anything for herself).
If they’d let me proceed after the airport elevator loading/unloading, I would have been fine. But they insisted I use the handicapped buses to and from the gates.
There’s a big problem with those handicapped buses. The rise (the height of the steps) is too high for me to easily maneuver. I needed the bus people to load and unload me.
Which infuriated me.
The regular, non-handicapped buses are just like the rental car buses—and I’m fine with those. (They’re not easy, but doable.)
And, because the people driving these buses insisted on circling the entire airport (okay, that might be a bit of an exaggeration) to maximize the number of people on the handicapped bus, I arrived on my flight to Boston just two minutes before the boarding door closed. Three hours in Paris (Paris!!), and I didn’t get to shop. Or wander. Instead, I spent the time on buses that didn’t fit my mobility needs. (My agile friends will recognize the increased batch size created a throughput problem. Little’s Law in real life.)
All because these people assumed they knew my abilities.
Assumptions Often Lead Us Astray
We often assume that people conform to some kind of “average.” For example, the shoulder harnesses in cars allow most people to be comfortable when they drive or ride in the front seat. And most cars have a way to raise or lower the shoulder harness.
Does that assumption work for all people? No. But it works for most people. That’s why the shoulder harness height is a reasonable assumption.
And when we know we’re not average, we can plan in advance, as Mark did for our Northern Lights tour. We took control in advance. We didn’t have to deal with other people’s assumptions.
Everyone’s abilities are different. My handicaps and abilities are totally different from the next person’s. I can manage my various handicaps in many places—including airports.
But, the assumptions the airline made meant I lost my autonomy and agency in a public space. A space I was quite able to navigate. By myself.
That’s why I like to question my assumptions.
Question Your Assumptions
When we generalize assumptions, such as, “All people who use an assistive device need this specific kind of support,” we might be correct. Or, in my case, totally wrong.
The airline staff could have asked me. Especially when I begged for my boarding pass back, so I could walk to the gate instead of having to go out in the cold and take a bus that didn’t fit.
Especially in my workshops and consulting, I clarify first, not assume. Here are some questions I use:
- Can you explain what you think I’m asking for? Can you clarify what you need?
- Do you have the knowledge you need to do what I’m asking? When I use these words, do you understand my meaning?
- Do you have the time to do that work?
And my favorite question is: How can I support you?
The airline staff inflicted help on me. (See When Do You Assist, Support, or Inflict Help?) Help I did not want or need. Instead, they could have explained the situation and asked what I needed.
I’m sure I’m different from most of the people with mobility issues. (My longtime readers are laughing or snorting along with me right now.) All the more reason for others to question their assumptions.
Let’s assume less and ask more.
Announcements…
My cover designer is iterating on the cover design for Project Lifecycles: How to Reduce Risks, Release Successful Products, and Increase Agility. I’m working on the index and the layout. I wrote this book because all the fake agility out there makes me nuts.
Once I finish the book, I’ll open up registration for the Q1 2024 writing workshop. Go there if you want to get on the notification list.
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- Create an Adaptable Life Blog to see the blog, not just the newsletter.
- My Books
- My Workshops
- Managing Product Development Blog
- Johanna’s Fiction
Till next time,
Johanna
© 2023 Johanna Rothman