Here’s a conversation a friend who uses a wheelchair told me she overheard outside the entrance of Disneyland a few years ago:
Mom: Okay, Suzie. This time you ask for a wheelchair.
Suzie: No, I don’t wanna ask for a wheelchair! Make Billy do it!
Billy: No way! I asked for a wheelchair last time!
Once upon a time, when I was a kid, there were a few reasons why kids who weren’t in wheelchairs were jealous of me because I was. They were jealous because kids in wheelchairs weren’t expected to do stuff like go to church or Sunday school. Church and Sunday school weren’t wheelchair accessible anyway. (Later, when I was in high school, older kids were jealous of me because being in a wheelchair meant I was never going to be drafted into the military and dragged off to someplace like Vietnam.) Other kids were also jealous of me because kids in wheelchairs got to cut to the front of the lines at Disneyland.
But then Disney cracked down. This came after media reports surfaced in 2013 about rich people who were hiring disabled people to accompany them and their kids to Disney World and paying them up to $130 an hour so that they didn’t have to wait in line.
My reaction to this was, “Where do I sign up?” If being in a wheelchair could get me a free trip to Disney World and up to $130 an hour, that sounded like a sweet gig to me. A guy’s got to make a living somehow.
But Disney was all indignant about it, probably because they figured it was costing them lots of money. That’s the kind of thing they get all worked up about. So in 2013, Disney instituted a new system: Disabled folks could sign up for a ride or attraction and then be assigned a return time so they could go do other things rather than waiting in line.
Recently, Disney announced it was revamping its access policy yet again because obtaining a pass for not waiting in line because of a disability had become the most widely-requested service at its parks. Starting this summer, the company announced, those seeking this accommodation will be questioned by medical professionals in an attempt to determine if they do indeed qualify.
Pretty soon, the only people who will be able to skip the lines at Disney’s theme parks will be Super Bowl Most Valuable Players. You know how after every Super Bowl Disney people with video cameras chase after the MVP and get him to triumphantly proclaim, “I’m going to Disneyland”? And then, a few days later, you see footage of the MVP at Disneyland having a grand old time.
I bet Disney doesn’t make those guys wait in line.
To me, the magic of going to Disneyland or Disney World was that it was one of the few situations where having a disability was an asset. But the Disney people seem determined to take that away. Their idea of treating disabled people fairly is to make us wait in line like everybody else.
Pretty soon, this will be the conversation you’ll overhear outside of the entrance of Disneyland:
Mom: Okay, Suzie. This time you pretend like you’re the Super Bowl MVP.
Suzie: No, I don’t wanna pretend like I’m the Super Bowl MVP! Make Billy do it!
Billy: No way! I pretended like I was the Super Bowl MVP last time!