How to Handicap One’s Character

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How to Handicap One’s Character

By: John A. Baden, Ph.D.
Posted on August 01, 2007 FREE Insights Topics:

Thirty years ago a few colleagues and I created an environmental policy institute at MSU. With the support of several foundations, we brought academics, business leaders, environmental professionals, and journalists to Bozeman. Some stayed for a week or more. I am pleased that so many commented on the friendliness and courtesy they experienced in our town.

Alas, even here some violate reasonable standards of decorum—and the law. My pet peeve involves those who take advantage of handicapped parking. Such folks inadvertently advertise a sorry aspect of their character. This remarkably shortsighted behavior signals character flaws; it tells others that their convenience trumps consideration for the handicapped. Here are a few examples, all save one from here.

When weather permits, I bike the few miles from Gateway to town. While putting my bike in the rack outside The Ridge, the health club near FREE’s office, a woman in a new convertible pulled into a handicapped-parking slot. Because Bozeman Deaconess Hospital has a physical therapy facility at The Ridge, several parking spaces are reserved for the handicapped. As the woman got out of her car, I looked at her, then at the handicapped sign, and back to her. Although I said nothing, she was annoyed—at me no less. She said loudly and with disdain, “Give me a break.”

I didn’t ask, “Other than ethically, how are you handicapped?” After another volley from her, I politely observed only that I had said nothing, but merely speculated that her guilt generated her intemperate response. She then got back in her car, peeled out, and parked a few feet away in an open, unmarked spot. In a town like Bozeman, subtle and mild social pressure still has force. Let’s keep this quality.

Here’s another violation that was more extreme—and far more costly to the perpetrator. A few years ago I was organizing a conference in the capital of another state, and an individual I knew from earlier programs offered to introduce me to the governor. My acquaintance had a highly distinguished résumé, Stanford, Oxford, Harvard, and a high federal position. We pulled into the capital parking lot and he pulled out a handicapped permit, hung it on the mirror of his car, and boastfully said, “This is really for my mother when I take her to the doctor, but we’re meeting the governor.”

I of course should have said, “Yes? So what? We’re early and there is plenty of parking available, just not quite so convenient.” I now lament my timidity, but have never regretted putting him on my “Never include him in another program” list. With this simple act he advertised his character and sacrificed future opportunities.

This last example is a violation I enjoy recounting. One day I drove a diesel ranch truck (complete with a massive brush guard) to town to shop at Albertsons. Pulling into the parking lot, I watched a white Corvette park in a handicapped slot. A woman got out and went into the store while a man remained at the wheel. I pulled in just behind him, blocking his exit.

The driver became nervous when I didn’t move—then, unsettled and agitated, he decided to move—and accelerated ahead. Sitting low in the Corvette, he didn’t notice the post set in concrete blocking his way. OOPS! His penalty paid, I backed away. Justice done.

Having been on crutches after several ankle reconstructions, I’m alert to the hardships of those physically impaired. I’m especially sensitive to those disadvantaged after hosting both handicapped children in the Eagle Mount program and, last week, Wounded Warriors at our ranch for a day of fishing. Hence, I understand the importance of handicapped privileges. Respecting efforts to accommodate them is a measure of civility.

FREE’s current Scholar in Residence, Steve Eagle, brought his 87-year-old mother out for a visit. Having grown up and lived most of her life in NYC, she was amazed when cars stopped for pedestrians in crosswalks. Steve commented on how helpful the airline agents were to her at Gallatin Field. Decorum and civility are values that differentiate our town from large urban areas. Respecting handicapped parking is one small characteristic. Bozeman really is a special place; please join me in preserving it.

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