Not so Hot Girl Summer

This 2019 summer is the time for hot girl summer. As UrbanDictionary defines it, “a summer of just being you, having fun.” This summer, for me, isn’t necessarily a “hot girl summer”. I’ve been hot hot hot in valley heat of Los Angeles, working for two law firms and the City of LA Department on Disability. I struggle to do anything but sleep on the days that I’m not working. Sure, if you have my snapchat or instagram, you know that there definitely have been some highlights this summer. Photoshoots with friends, finding the best, basic food and much needed love from my grandparents.

You see, I have come to the conclusion that having a disability can be a win-lose in the battle of trying to peak in this battle to be the hottest girl in summer. On one hand, it can be quite difficult to thrive in the summer with a “handicap” that makes it quite limiting. I’d want nothing more than to relax on the beach, but without a car, it is a two hour travel not worth the wait. Lyft may be convenient, but damn expensive. I’ve even learned to appreciate and miss the quick NYC subway system - because Los Angeles, I love you but your subways and buses are limited and slow. A majority of my friends live 2,800 miles away, so I can’t make them my personal taxis. SO, I am often forced to writing this blog, watching South Park and facetiming my friends.

There are some perks of having a disability in the summer. At Universal yesterday, I got all the perks of being an express without paying the $350 express price. I also got to park right at the entrance. While I very much enjoyed this A-list, reserved for celebrities’ treatment, I could not help but understand and overthink why this was the case. More so, why are all these extra perks necessary? The conclusion I reached, while chugging butterbeer and Lard Lad donuts was that summer fun isn’t simply accessible. Sure, nobody enjoys waiting in those 180 minute lines - and I commend those who did in 90°+ heat - but I know for a fact that I just don’t have the physical stamina for that. People in wheelchairs are constantly walked over, stuck in mass crowds coming at all directions, having to navigate complicated accessible routes, and, for some, not able to ride the rides at all. The perks, like skipping lines and parking close are quite convenient, but is it worth it?

I do think about how my abilities affect me on a day-to-day, but in the summer it seems to be more on the forefront of my brain. It’s hot, there is a less structured schedule, tourists are everywhere and I’m, in general, off my rhythm. I’ve had two scary times where I almost died this summer in one week. I have had to wait for ridiculous durations of time waiting for buses to arrive. I have been pushed down walking in shopping malls and coffee shops. I tripped in multiple stores that followed with strange looks. It is hard to think of an adventure when my disability didn’t get in the way at least once. I don’t mean to complain, but this is the nature of someone with my form of Cerebral Palsy; you are able to go places, but there will be obstacles. Sometimes I wish I could have it be simpler - either completely useless and helpless or 100% independence and strength. The grey scale of CP does make moving around more difficult because I never really know how hard/easy/impossible somewhere or some place might be.

Two examples are the times this week where I was genuinely concerned for my safety - all because I misjudged and thought I could do something my body could not handle. The first time was crossing the street on my way to work. Simple action, done it a million times. However, the escalator that I normally go up from the train station was broken so I climbed the stairs. Now, I’ve climbed many stairs in NYC, so again, nbd. I should mention that these were 4 flights long and unnecessarily steep. But, I wanted to preserve and rush to make my bus. Unfortunately, my knees were too weak and gave out the second I stepped out on the street and I was unable to stand up for some time. For anyone who has ever crossed a street, you know that there is a time limit and it is generally a pretty short time. That time went away and I was still on the ground in immense pain. The cars, though, started driving because they did not see my 5’6” self on the road crying. I was terrified, all because my body was not physically able to do a basic task - cross a damn street - since it already had to climb a fucking mountain.

The second time this week was at the Harry Potter world ride. At the ride, there is a moving floor that you step on to get on to the ride. The directions of the floorboards also change and the ride attendants are trying to get the passengers on the ride so the turnaround time can be fairly quick. Didn’t seem that difficult, until my ankle twisted at the sudden change in direction and I fell on the floor - going towards the drop at the ride. The attendants had to make a big deal and stop the whole ride to get me up before I fell into god knows what. At least a hundred people in that room were all staring at the weak girl crying for help, after she told the people it was not a problem. I was so embarrassed and quite shaken up. The guards insisted I get off and not ride - because obviously disabled people are not cut-out to ride on fake broomsticks with automated Daniel Radcliff. Even if I did get off, I would feel more defeated than already falling down in front of all these people.

There is still a sense of pride that I believe I have to uphold as a disabled person. Scary things can occur where I feel I can get injured or even die, and yet I am supposed to push through because this is my life. I fall countless times. I have countless scrapes and scars, little-to-near death experiences, the whole shebang. And yet, I brush myself off and continue with the rides, going to work, getting my coffee, etc. I have to be strong. If not, then I will only confirm what many ignorant people believe about people with disabilities - that we are weaker than the other population. These things just happen to us because our “handicap” is lesser than. I refuse to add to that belief, so yes, I laugh off almost getting run over by that big truck zooming by me that day in the street. I smiled and got on the ride even though the little boy started laughing next to me. I refuse to make a big deal of these things because if not, it will be the focus of my summer instead of the 85% part of my summer where everything was perfectly lovely.

So the next time you see someone skipping the line at an amusement park, or taking half-off on the metro, parking in a handicap spot, just know they definitely are not fully enjoying it as much as you think. It isn’t easy to be disabled in American summers. But, let us all have our own hot girl summer.