I was at Tony's Gym engaging in my typical forty-five minute workout on the elliptical machine when I first saw him. He was about my age, and his father was pushing him in a wheelchair specially made for him. Somewhat interested in determining his problem, I casually watched as the boy's father, who kept a constant eye on me, helped him out of the wheelchair and up to the walker. The critical look in his eyes seemed to ask me why I was even glancing in their direction. I looked away, not wanting him to think I was gawking at his physically challenged son. When I felt it had been long enough, I allowed my eyes to wander back towards them and watched the boy begin to walk towards the rowing machine. With every awkward step he took with his feeble legs, a loud thud came from the walker that was slamming against the floor. Not expecting this, I was a little surprised at the amount of noise he was making, but nonetheless bothered by it. His father stepped back and allowed the boy to move himself up and over the step between him and the machine. I instinctively felt great sympathy for the boy. Realizing his father could see it in my expression, I glanced away again. Once the boy was seated, I proceeded to make my way down the steps to the women's locker room. I knew the dad was watching the expression on my face as I walked past them, taking extra care to see how I responded to the situation. I knew he was trying to determine if I was uncomfortable and thought of his son as a freak or if I could actually handle it. Coming in contact with a physically or mentally challenged person is an awkward part of everyday life, and most people find themselves at a loss of how to respond to what they encounter.
Most people think of themselves as considerate, rational people who know how to handle almost any situation in an effective way. However, when confronted with a physically or mentally challenged person, people seem to lose it.
