I remember vividly coming home from a morning’s play in the low-income housing project. I was five years old. We had a foyer where the sole phone was located. My mother sat by the phone, crying uncontrollably. I asked what was wrong. “They won’t let you into school,” she sobbed.

I was five years old during that summer. I was scheduled to enter kindergarten that fall – or so my mother assumed. That was 1957. There wasn’t much thought of mainstreaming kids with disabilities. Kids with disabilities, no matter what kind, were shuffled off to “special schools.” 

The policy at P.S. 260 was no different than it was in any other school in NYC. It was only through the efforts of my aunt, a secretary at George Gershwin J.H.S., and the principal to whom she had access to, that I was allowed to enter “normal” school.

Back in the 50s, people with disabilities were feared, pitied, mocked. But that was a legacy carried down from generations past – Captain Hook, Captain Ahab, the one-eyed pirate, Quasimodo, Tiny Tim. Fifty-three years later, when I shop in grocery stores, I still switch aisles abruptly when I see or hear children in an isle. I can’t stand to hear them whisper (or sometimes shout) to their parents, friends, siblings, “There goes Captain Hook.”

For my kids, there were advantages to their dad having a prosthetic hand. They learned early in their lives to accept physical differences as a given. Even at two or three years old, my kids could pronounce the word “prosthesis.” They would drag it to me in the morning to “help me” dress. Sometimes they would try to wear it themselves.

The end of physical barriers for the disabled can be legislated. The public’s perception of people with disabilities cannot be legislated. Thirty-three years ago, my discrimination case against the Yellow Cab Company franchise in Milwaukee was heard in the Wisconsin Supreme Court. (At that time I spelled my last name “Godfried”). In the case, the owner of the company refused to hire me because I am missing a hand. He did not deny that he refused me the job because of my disability. He even stood up in court and shouted, “I would not want that man driving my wife and child around.” When I tell people today about the case, people (some half my age) respond, “Well … I can understand why the owner of the cab company would be concerned.” 

Recently my driving privileges for driving a company van were revoked by the company I work for. Their insurance company reviewed my driver’s license and saw that it requires that I drive with a wheel spinner. The company I work for refused to “modify” the steering wheel. Since my job does not require that I drive a company van, the revocation remains in effect. The vans are all equipped with power steering and automatic turn signals. These features allow one to drive safely (I presume) with only one hand on the steering wheel at any time. Indeed, Eau Claire police can be seen frequently driving squad cars holding steering wheels with one hand while their other hand holds their cell phones pressed against their ear. Wheel spinners (steering knobs), I might add, are illegal in Wisconsin for able-bodied drivers. These devices are considered dangerous. They’re not called “suicide knobs” for nothing.

Thankfully, the tide is changing in the public’s perception of what people with a perceived disability can do. This is due in part to mainstreaming in the schools and to laws such as the Americans With Disabilities Act. These actions increase public exposure for the disabled. We’ve come a long way. Compare the political careers of FDR, who felt that he had to hide his disability in order to get elected, to that of Bob Dole. Changes in perception come slowly, though. 

What is needed to change perceptions is more exposure. Hollywood and Madison Avenue can contribute immensely to this end. Movies such as Soul Surfer and 127 Hours are helpful, as are television shows that feature characters with disabilities. However, I think the greatest changes will take place when those with disabilities are given incidental roles – when the characters are merely in the background or in supporting roles, rather than the main characters in a story line. This reflects life more accurately and encourages all of us to see people with disabilities as everyday occurrences rather than novel events. Would you feel anxious about being tended to in an Emergency Room by an African-American or female doctor? What if the doctor had an artificial arm? Would that perception change if you constantly saw a character actor with that disability on your favorite TV show? Any portrayal of a person with a disability would, of course, have to be done by individuals who truly have the disability, not portrayed by able-bodied actors with the help of some camera magic and slick editing.

I think we also need to rethink portraying people with disabilities as being evil or pitiable. That means our beloved “Captain Hook,” “peg-leg pirate,” “Quasimodo” characters have to go. We need to consider how damaging and outmoded these portrayals are. We, the disabled, are not sinister, nor are we cartoon characters. We are fully members of society. Some of us can even write.