Over the course of the last few years, I have to admit, I may have gotten a bit spoiled. In my defense, I cut my con teeth on a huge event. The first con I ever attended was Wizard World New Orleans and oh what a glorious trip that was. I still fondly recall the feeling of walking into the convention and finding "my people". I swear I heard the voices of angels singing when I walked in the door. I had found my fellow nerds, and lots of them. The down side to attending such a large event as your first is my expectations were set very high. Some events live up to the initial experience while others do not.
I have attended many Wizard Worlds Cons, I mean they are the biggest company in the industry, and my overall thoughts on their structure, offerings and pricing have not changed much over the years.
There are many advantages to attending this size event. Example, if you want to meet and greet with celebs this is the way to go. Bigger attendance means better "star power", more vendors with larger booths, incredible panels and of course outstanding cosplays.
I'm not going to spend any time blathering about the cosplay contests. I don't even consider entering WW cosplay contests and have discouraged members of my crew from entering because what you see on the floor vs. what arrives at contest time are very different. A lot of the cosplayers in these contests cannot wear their creations for long periods of time due to limited mobility. It's almost like viewing slightly animated statues. Always cool to see but definitely not big on functionality.
But all that is not really what this article is really about!
This time around I got to see the con from a totally different perspective. 48 hours prior to con I ended up with two sprained ankles, damage to the bottom of my left foot and broken toes. Since WW tickets are non-refundable and quite expensive we decided to locate a wheelchair for me and proceed with the planned trip.
I expected to be viewed differently but, in actuality, what happened was almost over-whelming. First, I understand my crew was not experienced in dealing with anyone in a chair so while being pushed around, I kept ending up past the end of the tables or parked on a wall. So the need to control my own surroundings kicked in.
The next thing that becomes grievously clear is that vendor booths are not designed for wheelchair bound people. I could not see a damn thing beyond the facade tables. I found my shopping very limited because either I could not fit into the booth or could not see on anything above...well chair level. So sales were definitely lost.
Of course security was easy for me to get through but at one point I found myself waiting next to a guy who was permanently in a chair and was quite embarrassed about my dumb little accident. I didn't know exactly how to talk to him without being a bumbling idiot. He commented on my awesome cosplay and questioned how I had the time to be in the chair and build a costume. Dear sir, thank you for being gracious as I broke every rule of polite conversation since I could find no way to graciously and honestly answer while hiding behind my humiliation. Truth is, I felt like my chair was an temporary annoyance while his was a life sentence.
I noticed most of the day, being below most people’s line of sight, I was out of the conversation and overlooked. I equate that to being a small child. Several people did try to include me but most forgot I was there, until I attempted to run over their feet.
What bothered me most was the disingenuous compliments I received on my cosplay all day. While seated, nobody could not see the total effect of the Bombshell Robin cosplay. They could not see the back of the custom jacket which took hours to create and months to locate all the patches I used. All most people saw was my garrison hat and goggles. I was approached by several people who wanted my picture and who seemed truly disappointed by the fact that I could actually get out of the chair. I began to realize that people were not appreciating me, but pitying me, and maybe looking for a token to fuss over. I did not want to be the shining example for Wizard World being handicap friendly because 1) I am not handicapped and 2) I found the site was not very wheelchair friendly.
Did I need to chair to get around? Yes. Was I confined to it all day? No. I could get out of the chair periodically but to avoid further damage to my foot and ankles I chose to stay in the chair as much as possible. I offered rides to a couple of people, loaned my chair as a prop for my little X-23, and acted as a walker to one member of my crew when she became tired from her actual disability.
One good thing from the wheelchair adventure was my friend and I had an awesome interaction with Dean Cain. He really is a Superman.
When the day was over I came to realize that I had been witness to something most don't get to see and I understand now how it affects people when we make assumptions or disingenuous assertions about their lot in life. In the end, I felt like C. Thomas Howell in that 80s movie Soul Man trying to justify his brief experience as a black man to James Earl Jones' character. As he pathetically explained, "I don't really know what it feels like sir. If I didn't like it, I could always get out."







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