Who is the real disabled person?

Every year, December 3 is celebrated as the International Day of Persons with Disabilities. Naturally, both political parties and municipalities celebrate this day through their social media accounts or events they organize. It feels as if the meaning and significance of the day are being misunderstood. Because December 3 is not a day to celebrate the disability of disabled people. It is a day of remembrance. It is a day to understand those who have disabilities. That is exactly what I did. As an able-bodied person, I thought like a disabled person. To understand them, I left my house for a day as if I were one of them, and then I decided to write down the notes I took here.

I left the house this morning just like every other morning. The only difference from other days was spending the day thinking like a disabled person and taking my notes. And then, while writing, asking you all. I am ready, and if you are ready, I am starting my observations...

I left the house. Naturally, I started walking to the bus stop. I was walking while examining every point of the sidewalks as if I were sifting through them, taking my notes. Small potholes and the gaps between the cobblestones caught my eye, and a question popped into my mind. I wonder, does a person with a physical disability in a wheelchair or a visually impaired person with a cane struggle with these gaps while using this sidewalk...?

While taking notes on what I saw, I continued to walk. When I reached the end of the sidewalk, I saw there was a ramp. Yes, there is a ramp, but a vehicle was parked in that section as well. If you are disabled, how are you supposed to pass through here?..

I continued walking toward the bus stop. If the stop is on a flat area, there is no problem. If it is under a bridge, you have to open your hands and pray at that moment. Why? So that the elevator works. Because if the elevator does not work, woe to you... Fortunately, the elevator was working at the stop I boarded from.

I had traveled at most 1 kilometer from home. As you can see, problems kept arising until I reached the stop. I hoped there would be no problems on the bus. I got on the bus that arrived. The seats reserved for disabled people were full. The section in the middle reserved for disabled people in wheelchairs had been filled by other passengers. These questions immediately came to my mind: Would space have been cleared in the middle section if a disabled person wanting to board with a wheelchair or a motorized vehicle had arrived? Or, were these seats, which are reserved for the disabled, the elderly, and women with children on public transport and are occupied by able-bodied people despite the signs, really being vacated when a disabled person, an elderly person, or a woman with a child arrived, as the signs suggest?

With questions in my head and a notepad in my hand, I arrived at the Şirinevler Ataköy E5 stop and got off the bus. The escalator was not working. I immediately headed for the elevator. The elevator was working. However, able-bodied people were also using this elevator, which should be used by the elderly, those with children, and the disabled.

While complaining, I used the regular stairs to get onto the bridge. I saw a young man selling tissues in a wheelchair. I went up to him. After buying tissues, I started chatting. I started asking questions without saying I was a journalist. After a short conversation, when I asked where he lived, he said, "Bahçelievler, brother." In other words, the street he lived on was about half an hour away from where we were. I asked, 'How do you get here?' "Brother, in my wheelchair. Sometimes by public transport. Because the public transport vehicles that see me don't stop. They only stop if there are other people at the stop. If the bus is empty, I get on," he said. I asked about the elevator leading to the bridge. If he could use it. "Brother, believe me, I wait in line to use it. Those who get into the elevator look me right in the eye, press the button, and close the door." While I was the one listing questions in my observations, this 28-year-old brother of ours was experiencing all of this and even more every single day.

Yes, now I ask,

Based on what I witnessed and wrote, is the one who cannot walk the disabled one, or is the one who can walk but does not appreciate it the disabled one?

Is the one who clings to life despite their disability and works to earn their bread the truly disabled one, or the one who has a healthy life but just sits around doing nothing?

Is the one who cannot sit in the seat reserved for them after boarding public transport the truly disabled one, or are those who occupy these seats the disabled ones?

Is the truly disabled person who cannot park their vehicle in the spots reserved for them in shopping mall parking lots the disabled one, or are the able-bodied drivers who park their vehicles in these spots the disabled ones?

Every 6 months, a disability statistics bulletin is published by the Ministry of Family and Social Services, and numbers are provided. However, no one knows what the actual number of disabled people is.