When I ran up to the corner, a car was waiting to make a right and I slowed down, wary of the young woman driving because she was texting on her cell phone. Lost in her electronic reverie she didn’t move so, I jogged past, giving her a wide berth. Good thing I did. 

Looking to her left, she gunned the engine and, if I hadn’t given myself margin of safety, she’d have run me right over. As her brakes screeched, I looked at her through my mirror shades and shook my head. Upset, she shook her fist at me, which pissed me off. 

“You are an idiot,” I yelled. Because I popped her faux sense of personal automotive space – or more likely she was now confronted by a howling man whose eyes she could not see – she burst in to tears of fright. Good. Sometimes, lessons have to be learned the hard way.  Maybe she’ll look next time. Resuming my run, I wondered if I’d saved some unknown runner in the not too distant future. 

A few miles later, I came to a busy intersection and, no fool I, stopped at the crosswalk and waited for traffic to respect the rules of the road. When the cars stopped, I started to jog across when a red sedan blew right through the crosswalk, prompting the other drivers to honk their horns in solidarity with my fury. “Motherfucker,’ I said to myself. Feeling my form falter as anger erupted in my chest, I slowed to a walk to catch my breath. I needed the break anyway. Then again, my vehicular close calls were partly my fault. Not in a legal sense mind you. If any of those morons had hit me, I’d’ve sued them for enough money to put my daughter through Harvard five times over and have a science wing named after me. No, my mistake was being lazy that morning and starting my run after 7:30 AM. If I’d started at 6:30 like I’d planned to, I’d have avoided most of the morning rush and enjoyed relatively clear roads, but I’d decided to sleep in a little but longer. My bad. 

I like to think I’m good driver and, while I’ve made my share of mistakes over the years, I take the safety of pedestrians seriously. So, I get quite aggravated when other drivers don’t give me the same consideration. But then again, people are assholes – and the pandemic made many drivers into even bigger ones. Is it just me or are people no longer signaling turns, running red lights more and treating stop signs and crosswalks as friendly suggestions? A few months ago, I watched aghast as a produce truck blew through a red light while a mother and her tykes were crossing the street. Furious, I followed the truck to a restaurant, took down the license plate number and reported it to the police when I arrived at work. 

“We can issue him a ticket,” the desk sergeant said. “But did you see the driver? Could you identify him out of a lineup?” 

“No,” I said. “I didn’t feel like confronting him in the parking lot.” 

Shaking his head, the cop said, “These companies hire anybody they can find and, when they get dragged into court, their lawyer will bring in several guys who all look alike and ask, ‘Well who was it?’ If you’re not certain who the driver was the case gets thrown out one hundred percent of the time.” 

“That’s bullshit,” I said. 

“Way it is,” the sergeant said, “I don’t make the laws, I only enforce them.” 

Resuming my run, I started down a residential street without sidewalks near my job, jogging in the direction of oncoming traffic, which is usually sparse on that road. Keeping my eyes focused twenty feet ahead, I spied a pickup truck barreling down the street, hugging the curb. The driver, you guessed it, was on his cell phone – with a cigarette dangling from his mouth. Jumping left onto someone’s lawn, I felt the truck’s slipstream wash over me as it blasted past. To add insult to injury, the pickup driver angrily blasted his horn, trumpeting his asphaltic covetousness. Turning, I gave him the finger, my lizard brain hoping he’d stop and get out of his truck, but he kept violating the speed limit right past a school. Which is just as well. Something tells me the mayor wouldn’t appreciate my getting arrested for assault. 

After three vehicular close calls in twenty minutes, my concentration was shot, and I decided to walk home. Nothing puts my heart into overdrive like anger. “This is why we can’ have anything nice,” I muttered to myself. When I got to my house, I jumped in the shower, aggravated that my routine had been derailed by thoughtless jerks but, as warm water cascaded over me, I realized I was being a bit of a hypocrite.  When I worked the Bistro, I couldn’t stand the legions of cyclists who came into the restaurant to refuel midway during their jaunts to and from Manhattan. Fifty year old men in spandex look ridiculous and goodness, those stupid shoes click clacking and scratching up our wooden floors! Then, after several glasses of wine, the weekend warriors would depart, cycling home in various states of inebriation. I couldn’t stand them – and they were lousy tippers to boot. 

To this day, I still have residual animus towards those guys, so much so that, when I pass a gaggle of them on the road I say to my wife, “Hey! Want to be famous?” Of course, I’ve never indulged my homicidal fantasies, but it’s illustrative of the sickness American car culture engenders. When we’re behind the wheel, we like to think we own the road and fuck everyone else. Despite my protectiveness of pedestrians, my tender feelings don’t seem to extend to cyclists. Sure, it probably results from waiter PTSD but, in the final analysis, that’s my problem. Feeling somewhat chastened, I got dressed, went to work, and discussed my close calls with a co-worker. 

“That’s why I gave up running,” she said. “That and my knees.” 

“It’s crazy out there,” I said.  

“You should run on trails. No cars there.” 

“Twisted ankle city. No way.” 

“There’s another thing,” my coworker said. 

“What’s that?” 

“Some people hate seeing other people exercising.  It reminds them of how much they’ve let their health go.” 

“You know,” I said. “I never thought of it that way.” 

Back behind my desk, I thought of what my co-worker said. Throughout my life I’ve run into people who would smoke, drink, and eat double cheeseburgers every day and then lambast fitness buffs as “pussies.” Most of them ended up toe tagged in the morgue before they hit sixty. Was their disregard for exercise a way for them to hide from the anxiety of what they were doing to their bodies? Did seeing someone cycle or jog make them angry because they were unwilling or unable to do so themselves? There’s an old adage, “Fear is the wish” and when people get scared, they get angry. Perhaps that’s why we can’t have anything nice. One thing’s for sure, running has given me a new appreciation for sharing the road with the carless. Self-serving? Too little too late? Perhaps, but late is better than never.  And let’s face it, I’m running because I’m also scared of ending up toe-tagged in the morgue. 

The next day I went running with a new attitude towards drivers- they’re all 100% out to kill me. 

The post Fear Is the Wish appeared first on Waiter Rant.

Persons with disabilities are expected to be patient — constantly in receipt of promises by policy-makers that change is on its way and that their concerns will be acted upon. Yet, it is hard to ignore just how light certain manifestos for the June election are on their commitment to the more than 100 million persons with disabilities living in the European Union.

It is not only that the pledges on disability inclusion are meagre. Even the websites of the main European political parties were recently found to be incompatible with basic accessibility requirements.

This is even more incomprehensible when Europe is juggling so many crises which disproportionately affect persons with disabilities — often not just left behind but forgotten. Far from the ‘polycrisis’ justifying the sidelining of disability issues, on the contrary, it enhances the case for their prioritisation.

A startling picture

We are talking about a very significant group of people. The latest figures from Eurostat suggest that 27 per cent of individuals in the EU have some kind of disability; among women, this rises to almost 30 per cent. It’s hard to let policy-makers off the hook for overlooking challenges faced by more than a quarter of the population.

The data speak for themselves as to the urgency of removing the barriers faced by persons with disabilities. EU-level figures paint a startling picture of just how different life looks if one has a disability.

Take poverty. In the EU, 18.3 per cent of people without a disability live at risk of poverty and social exclusion. For those with a disability, however, this figure jumps to 28.8 per cent. It leaps even higher for women with disabilities, of whom 29.8 per cent are so at risk, and soars to around 36 per cent for persons with disabilities who have high support needs.

Or consider employment. On average, the employment rate of persons with disabilities in the EU is over 21 percentage points lower than that for persons without. In some countries, the difference is far greater, such as in Ireland (37 percentage points), Croatia (36pp) and Belgium (35.3pp). Persons with disabilities are also far more likely to be working only part-time, in low-paying jobs or in sheltered workshops, which has a huge impact on their quality of life.

Persons with disabilities do not need sympathy but expect their rights as citizens to be vindicated. And while the EU cannot be expected to resolve all of these issues, it could do a number of things much better.

Young people with disabilities have it particularly hard. Many are forced to drop out of education early because they do not get the support they need: 22.1 per cent of persons with disabilities in the EU drop out of school, compared with only 8.4 per cent of people without disabilities. Again, the higher a person’s support needs, the more likely it is that these will not be met by the education system: a whopping 41.8 per cent of young people with high support needs do not finish school.

Those who manage to complete their schooling and go to university then meet an array of further barriers, particularly if they plan to take up learning opportunities abroad. The lack of quality, inclusive education worsens employment perspectives generally for young people as they make the transition towards adulthood: 31.1 per cent of young persons with disabilities are not in employment, education or training (NEETs); among those with higher support needs, the figure is around 42 per cent.

Nor does it stop there. Countless persons with disabilities are denied boarding on planes, trains or buses each year in the EU without explanation or arrive at their destination to find their assistive devices broken without any hope of receiving full compensation. More than one million persons with disabilities are still segregated in institutional care across the EU. And countless women and girls with disabilities continue to undergo forced sterilisation.

This is a snapshot of the barriers society creates for most persons with disabilities in the EU. They do not need sympathy but expect their rights as citizens to be vindicated. And while the EU cannot be expected to resolve all of these issues – the treaties do not give it the prerogative to do so – it could do a number of things much better.

Greater ambition is needed

First, its institutions need to acknowledge the scale of the challenge and allocate financial and human resources accordingly. Structural innovation is required: there should be a directorate-general for equality and fundamental rights in the European Commission, working in close co-operation with a disability committee or co-ordinator in the European Parliament and an equality configuration in the Council of the EU.

The union also needs to be much more ambitious in its political and policy priorities, focusing on the concerns of persons with disabilities with the courage to impose legally binding measures. The EU has proved its ability to do so through initiatives such as the new EU Disability Card and Disability Parking Card and legislation such as the European Accessibility Act.

In line with the EU’s competences, why not begin the new mandate by finally tackling denial of boarding on flights and ensuring fair compensation when mobility equipment is lost or damaged during travel? The commission has proposed legislation to revise these rights but stopped short when it comes to passengers with disabilities. The parliament and the council have the chance to propose a better, rights-based text.

The EU could pave the way by better controlling the availability and affordability of assistive technologies and devices persons with disabilities depend on across the single market.

The EU should also work on employment. There is a blueprint in the European Youth Guarantee, an initiative supported by €99 bn of EU funding which has assisted tens of millions of young people across the EU to get into jobs and training programmes and resulted in a reduction in the number of unemployed youth. The European disability movement is asking the EU to put in place a similar initiative for persons with disabilities. This ‘European disability employment and skills guarantee’ would be an adapted version, removing age limits for eligibility, allowing individuals to retain their much-needed disability allowance when in their new role and providing extra funds to support employers in making any necessary workplace adaptations or purchases.  

It is crucial, too, that people be given access to the assistive devices and technologies they require to carry out day-to-day activities. The EU could pave the way by better controlling the availability and affordability of assistive technologies and devices persons with disabilities depend on across the single market.

We also urgently need the forced sterilisation of women and girls with disabilities to be prohibited. And the EU must immediately stop its money being used to fund institutions where persons with disabilities are segregated and denied basic rights.

What is needed, first and foremost, is for policy-makers to acknowledge the barriers faced by Europe’s disabled population and to make removing these a priority. Our message to all political groups, all candidates for the European Parliament and all those in line to represent their member states in the next term within the other EU institutions is: do not pity persons with disabilities — just act.

This article was originally published on Social Europe.