When we first moved into our neighborhood, the houses around us were not even built yet. We happily watched as the neighborhood came together and started to take shape. Originally, we parked our cars in our driveway, in our garage, on the street, and even in the overflow parking (now designated for guest parking only), which was fairly disability-friendly. Then one day, I came home to signs on both sides of the street, which indicated no more street parking. Bruce, always aware of how much harder little things are for me, told me that I should park in the driveway and he would park in the overflow parking spots. For a while, this solution worked. Until one day, we were informed that the Homeowners’ Association (HOA) was planning to tow any vehicles owned by residents of the community, because one car was intended to be parked in the garage, and one car in the driveway. That was over a year ago, and that was when I reached out to the HOA for a parking exemption. 

Well let me just say this: it was as if I requested a personal valet and a golden chariot rather than some reassurance that if by some chance Bruce parks his car in a “guest” parking spot, he wouldn’t be towed. I was asked to supply medical documentation from my doctor (which I did), because apparently my designation of “handicapped” according to the Motor Vehicle Commission doesn’t alone qualify as documentation. Then, to my complete and utter disbelief, they told me that I had to disclose my diagnosis. I responded by telling them that I most certainly was not required to disclose my diagnosis to anyone, least of all them, but since I have been an open book regarding my MS from the beginning, I honored their ridiculous request. 

For months we continued to follow through with no response, and our HOA went through three different property managers during that time (each equally as inept as the next). We forwarded all the information (multiple times) to each person who was designated our property manager, and we continued to do the driveway dance, which is often very taxing on me. Because my sleep patterns are so horrible, rearranging the cars in the morning is very difficult. Often, Bruce ends up moving both cars, one at a time, which is not exactly what he wants to do (nor does he have time to do) before heading off to work. Plus, maneuvering the tight space in the garage is not something I’m very good at, and more often than not I get bumped and bruised because I am already off balance. 

Finally, after all of our perseverance, we were told of the solution: the handicap car can remain in one of the handicap spaces on the street without fear of being towed. Fabulous. The handicap spots are so far from my home, that I can’t even see them from my house. We told them that this could only be a temporary solution, and that it makes no sense that the disabled person should park that far from her house. It kind of defeats the whole purpose of this parking exemption. Plus on nice days, the handicap spots are full of bikes and scooters that belong to the neighborhood kids, who leave their items unattended and haphazardly strewn about. 

This picture was taken from my driveway looking towards the handicap parking spaces, which are not even visible here because that’s how far they are from where I actually live.

We did not get any response as far as a more feasible, permanent solution. When we reached back out to the property manager, she responded that the solution had already been given to us, and she clearly did not think that there needed to be further attention given to our request. Reminder: all we want is reassurance that if by some chance Bruce happens to be parked in a “guest” spot, he won’t get towed. 

The most frustrating part about this simple request, is that I have been made to feel like I am demanding the earth, the moon, and the stars. It might seem ridiculous that simply moving cars around can be that hard, but when you have MS, even the tiniest little tasks are incredibly exhausting. Not once has the property manager even seen our development and in her eyes, she was done. Even after we submitted the photo above and my hand-drawn map (below), she still thought she had addressed our concerns. A person who struggles with a disability should be given at least a modicum of sympathy, and not have to jump through hoops for such a small accommodation.

Ok, so I’m not the greatest artist, but you get the idea…

What they don’t know, or rather what they are learning now, is that they pissed off the wrong girl. I spent my whole professional life making accommodations (as was my legal obligation) for my students, hoping to make things doable for them according to their particular disabilities. I am proactive about my situation, but I am also very aware of how people perceive accommodations that are made. I never take advantage, but I gladly accept the small things to which I am entitled (such as handicap parking) because it allows me to conserve my energy, thus making my life more doable. I have consulted my attorney, and I am prepared to get the state Department of Social Services involved, if need be. 

The moral of this week’s story is to advocate for yourself, but choose your battles wisely. This battle doesn’t need to even be a battle but because I have been ignored and brushed aside, it is a battle that THEY chose. I am not just fighting for myself here either. Any time I take on a challenge related to my disability, I hope to pave the way for those who struggle like I do. At the very least, the ever-present teacher inside of me hopes to teach others how to appropriately respond to people with disabilities, and to teach people with disabilities how to advocate for themselves. It’s not an easy road to walk, especially when I stumble or fall. But I always get up and get back to work, and that’s what really counts.