There are two Dave's.
And each one gets treated very differently.
There is the 'at the front of the room giving a lecture Dave'.
There is the 'look at the fat guy in the wheelchair Dave'.
'Lecture Dave' has conversations with people, he exchanges ideas and opinions, he laughs and is included in the jokes. 'Lecture Dave' gets something that everyone expects, social inclusion. Sometimes the signal for inclusion is very simple - eye contact. Regular typical eye contact. Not staring. Not avoiding. Just a gaze held, a glance exchanged, a glimpse into the center. 'Lecture Dave' never realized that those moments of conversation when the eyes joined with the words in the creation of 'message' would become a valued rarity.
'FW Dave' doesn't get much eye contact. If Joe is with 'FW Dave', Joe gets the eyes while 'FW Dave' gets the chill. When 'FW Dave' insists on being spoken to directly, often eyes go a few inches above where contact would be made, like a can of peas on a shelf out of reach. Others may wish to have 'eyes in the back of their heads', 'FW Dave' seems to have them on the top of his.
Oddly, me, I, 'FW Dave' most of the time, have gotten used to this lack of contact, this tiny bit of social exclusion and it only became noticeable today. I'm in Prince George staying at the new Sandman Signature Hotel here. It's a really lovely place. First at checkout and then in Rockford the bar and restaurant which is attached to the hotel, the staff all looked at me while talking with me. Chatting with the bartender about tea, I love tea, he looked right at me as we spoke. Just like I used to get when I was a walker, just like I get when I'm 'Lecture Dave'. But here, in this context, I'm so used to conversing with the 'whites of their eyes' that I found it disconcerting.
It's stunning to me how quickly, after all I've only been disabled for four years, I've come used to social exclusion. How I've just, over time, adapted to existing without existing, speaking with a disembodied voice, having eyes that see but are not seen. I know at first I fought, fight after fight for the dignity of being present, fully present in my conversations. It was like I wore a tee shirt that said 'Gaze Rights Now!' But over time, bigger battles came along, or more precisely the battle for social inclusion for the end of social exclusion, seemed too big. It was easier to lobby for space to get into a store than it was for space to get into contact.
So, when the bartender, when the lobby clerk, looked at me as if I was real. I realized the importance of real eyes. I realized that the fight for access needs to always include the right to be included. I contact. Eye contact. Same difference.