From a Polio Survivor’s Perspective…Why Do People See the Disability before They See the Person?

Michael Kossove

Many polio survivors have experienced it. You enter a room using a brace, a cane, crutches, a scooter, or a wheelchair, and before you say a word, people have already formed an opinion. They notice the disability before they notice the person.

Why does this happen?

Part of the answer lies in human nature; people are visual creatures. We immediately notice anything that appears different from what we expect. A person with a limp, an unusual gait, a brace, or a mobility device naturally attracts attention. It is not always prejudice or cruelty. Often, it is simply the way our brains are wired to observe differences.

The problem is that some people stop there. Instead of seeing a teacher, writer, lawyer, grandparent, artist, athlete, veteran, volunteer, or friend, they see “the disabled person.” The disability becomes the entire story, even though it is only one chapter in a very large book.

For polio survivors, this can be particularly frustrating. Many of us have spent a lifetime overcoming obstacles that others cannot imagine. We endured paralysis, painful therapies, surgeries, braces, and years of rehabilitation. We built careers, raised families, contributed to our communities, and developed a resilience that only comes from facing adversity head-on. Yet, sometimes, all of that disappears behind a pair of crutches.

There is another reason people focus on disability. Many are uncomfortable around it. Disability reminds people that life is unpredictable. It reminds them that strength, mobility, and health are not guaranteed. Some respond by avoiding eye contact; others become overly helpful. Some speak to a companion instead of directly to the disabled person, as though the disability somehow affects intelligence or the ability to communicate.

Polio survivors know how absurd that can be. A weak leg is not a weak mind. A wheel-chair is not a measure of intelligence. A brace is not a reflection of character.

Many survivors develop a sense of humor about these situations. We have met strangers who congratulate us for doing ordinary things such as grocery shopping, attending a movie, or going out for dinner. Sometimes the assumptions are so ridiculous that laughter becomes the best response.

The good news is that first impressions do not have to become permanent impressions. Once people get to know us, they usually discover what was there all along. They find a person with talents, opinions, dreams, accomplishments, and experiences. They discover someone who has learned perseverance in ways that many never will. They begin to see the individual, rather than the disability.

As polio survivors, we cannot always control what people notice first. A brace, cane, scooter, or wheelchair may enter the room before we do. But we can remind ourselves that the disability is not our identity; it is only one aspect of who we are.

The real challenge belongs to society. The goal should not be to pretend disabilities do not exist. The goal is to look beyond them. To see the person first and the disability second. To recognize that every visible disability belongs to a human being with a unique story.

After all, when someone meets a polio survivor, they are not meeting a disability. They are meeting a person who has already overcome challenges most people can scarcely imagine.

And that is the first thing worth seeing.