A thesis submitted in partial fulfilment of - Etheses - Queen Margaret ...

Erin was waiting in the chairs inside the entrance, reading a book, when Charles and I
arrived. It was a dark wet night in late October. The waiter held the door open as I pushed
Charles‟ wheelchair in. While Charles had booked our table, the waiter addressed me.
Charles explained that we only needed a table for three now. The waiter turned to the
waitress who was going to allot us a table. “There‟s only three of them now,” he said.
As Charles said to me during our discussion about the event later on:
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You see, disability discrimination works in subtle ways… and it‟s not always that
easy to clearly identify whether something is or isn‟t discrimination… (l.3.548ff.)
Claire Tregaskis describes the way in which, while practicing inclusion, many non-disabled
providers of services continue to hold negative and stereotyped views of their disabled
customers (Tregaskis, 2004). It can be suggested that a demeaning judgement was being
made in the waiter‟s addressing me rather than Charles and that an assumption was involved
that I was Charles‟ „carer‟ (in spite of the fact that he is a regular customer here). It is,
however, in his use of the word them that it becomes more difficult to say whether or not
discrimination took place. At best the waiter was simply rude, but it has to be questioned
whether he would have used such dismissive language referring, for instance, to a family
group of non-disabled people.
That this word should have jarred raises the issue of disabled people‟s heightened sensitivity
to insult and objectification:
I think… it‟s actually quite hard sometimes to distinguish what is and isn‟t… you
know… discriminatory behaviour… as you said it could be in a look… it could be in
a tone of voice… or the emphasis of a word in a sentence… (l.3:562ff.)
Whether or not anything was meant by it, this was experienced by Charles as a reminder of
difference that has often in the past, and almost certainly will be again in the future, been
treated negatively.
The waitress escorted us to a table in an alcove, slightly set apart from the other diners.
Again, it is hard to tell whether this was done with intention, perhaps out of consideration for
other customers who may not have wanted to sit next to somebody with cerebral palsy while
they ate. It was still early yet and The Stag and Rainbow was relatively empty. It filled up as
the evening went on, and a family party made up of grandparents, parents and three children
(out to celebrate Janice‟s birthday) was placed near us, as well as a young couple who hardly
spoke to each other at the candle-lit table by the window, and a father with his two grown up