“Someday, if you stick around long enough, you will no longer see the height difference, or the way my fingers are formed, or how long my legs are. You will forget that I am not as short as you, and you will just see me for me.”
It is a unique experience to attend a dwarfism convention. The tall are the people who need to adapt. Not as much as it could be, that would be quite expensive as hotels, and malls, and restaurants are built for the average stature. Even the handicapped accommodations in public restrooms have taller toilet seats and longer sinks. Still, I’ve never personally heard anyone complain. Ever. I’ve never heard one of my friends blurt out in a grocery store, “Why do they put those cans so darn high?”
Persons of short stature have never asked the world to change unreasonably for them. They adapt because it is fair. It is also fair to lower an ATM to a height comfortable for everyone or a gas pump…even I have to look way up to see the numbers on some of them. At a convention, the hosting organization works with the hotels to provide stairs at the front desk, step stools where needed, maybe a button pusher for the elevators…things like that. For me, the most noticeable and the only thing I must adapt to are the banquet tables. They are lowered quite a bit, below the knees of some of us average stature folks.
But that’s it…just that one thing is all that I need to do and that is only for one dinner. It is the only time I am really reminded how much of a difference there is. I’m tall — and for a weekend, I am in the minority group. I like to think that they have accepted that. If not, at least they have been kind enough not to exclude me.