White male accosts disabled nonbinary person in shopping centre

So let down, from the Dear Feminism series, 2021, acrylic artist's paint, oil stick, graphite, fabrics (gifted, vintage, found and new), heading tape, thread, 71 x 142 x 0.5cm approx., installation view, Top Gallery, Salamanca Arts Centre, Nipaluna, Lutruwita

This post contains a strong language and content warning.

“There was a bit of traffic behind you

When you were waiting to park,”

The stranger said,

Striding up behind me

As I left the shopping centre carpark.

Was he talking to me?

There was an odd look on his face,

Like he was baiting me. 

I didn’t say anything.

What the fuck?

He got closer

But was still behind me. 

He was in a hurry,

Taking big strides,

With his long,

Able-bodied

Legs.

“Do you realise

That’s a disability carpark?”

He boldly queried.

My brain froze.

Was I being accosted

For being disabled

And parking in a dedicated

Disability parking spot

With my disability parking permit

Clearly visible

On my dash?

My brain heaved

Under the weight

Of the assault

(It had been an incredibly stressful day)

But I managed to retort,

With as much courage

As I could muster:

“I’m disabled.”

He looked unconvinced

And certainly showed no remorse. 

He strode off

Into the supermarket

Without a word.

My brain finally clunked into gear,

Working out

What the hell had just happened

And I was busting

To put it

Into

Words.

I stood at the entry to the supermarket

And challenged, loudly:

“Don’t I look disabled enough for you?”

He might have heard me

But was deep

Into the safety

Of the fruit and vegetable section

By then.

I’d come to the shopping centre

(Paddington Central in Meanjin)

To empty my PO Box.

It happened to be 5pm,

Which is not my preferred time

To be out and about -

I try to avoid crowds

And heavy traffic.

By the time I had made my way

Slowly up and down the lift,

He was at the supermarket checkouts. 

I watched him exit

And start browsing the bakery shelves.

He might have seen me

But gave no sign.

I decided to confront him.

“Excuse me,”

I said. 

“Don’t I look disabled enough for you?"

He put up his hands and said,

“All right, all right.”

More gaslighting from my aggressor -

What a surprise.

I continued. 

I wasn’t finished.

“Do you realise

That the reason you had to wait for me to park

Was that an arrogant man

In a massive Porche

Without a disability permit

Was in the disability parking space?”

Of course he didn’t. 

He’d been too busy victim-blaming me

For being disabled.

He produced some further hand waving –

An apology would have been more appropriate.

“Please don’t do that to any other disabled people ever again,”

I said.

And walked off.

Fuck,

Fuck,

Fuckity

Fuck.

Goddam,

I hate being disabled.

But what I hate almost as much,

Is other people’s judgement.

How dare that 40-something year old,

Tall,

Able-bodied,

White

Man,

With the aquiline nose,

Accost and harass me

For using a parking space

I am entitled to use,

Which is there to try to prevent me

From falling or tripping or collapsing

Due to my complex chronic health problems

And disability?

And by the way,

Smarty-pants,

Disability carparks are always positioned

As close to the pedestrian ingress

As possible. 

So if you don’t like waiting

For disabled people to park,

Use another carpark entry.

How

Very

Goddam

Dare he!

Disabled people suffer twice.

They suffer from their disability,

But also from society’s refusal

To afford them basic human rights

And to accept them

For who

They are.

I believe

And see you.

And I believe

And see

Myself.

Gen Memory

September 2025