This morning, I was prowling Facebook for pics of cats (which I can spend all dayyy going through, but am too lazy to find myself), when I came across this gem of information. In case and suffer from extreme laziness like me, and just can’t bring yourself to click the link(“Screw this, I need to go skim BuzzFeed and forget about my pain”), it’s a webpage supporting a Lego Idea, specifically, one where the little Lego man is in a wheelchair and chilling in front of a blue-stickered ramp. The hope is that this Lego’d disability scene will get enough support to be created and sold. If you’re still too much of a douche to click the link, you’re probably a lost cause, but you should know that all of the pieces– including the sitting Lego-man, his little but exceptionally detailed beast of a wheelchair (which even has a customized-looking hand control and differentiation where the ‘motor’ is!!Sick man. True representation.) and a true-to-life handicapable wheelchair door button– are ridiculously cute. Of course, I’m pretty girly and think lots of things are cute, ranging from my friend’s cat to my own selfies, but this is undeniably so. Saaaa cayyyute.
Why You Should Care:
If you’ve never met a wheelie in your life, well, then, it’s really strange that you’d add me on Facebook or WordPress, but good for you for clicking on a blog that doesn’t directly effect your normally overly self-absorbed life. There’s a popular belief with disability rights activists right now that might actually make this feel more relatable to you, as it claims that,”Everyone becomes disabled someday, so care about disability now, sooner rather than later”. While I don’t fully buy into this train of thought, (some people die running marathons in their 80s, like this woman) I see the benefit of its existence. Age happens to everyone (except John Stewart, who looks like a twenty-something wearing a wig.God.), and at the very least, our bodies are expected to slow down with time. And this is why you should care. Because wheelies are just like you, and you might become some variant of one one day.
The other reason this wheelie Lego matters is for the exposure it would give to kiddies all over the world. Kids are incredibly and beautifully malleable, and their beliefs about what is what, are constantly changing. By way of example, I’ll tell you about my little step-sister. She is adorable and smart and feisty and other biased positive descriptors I can’t think of right now. She is 7. She likes Princess Ponies and hamburgers with almost nothing on them. She also has the fleeting curiosity specific to children. As is such, she likes to ask a zillion why questions, assert her opinions and think a bit, and then ask more whys. Since coming into the fam, she has asked plenty of questions about me and my disability, causing reactions ranging from unbearably cute to, “What did you just say, little kid?” to, “Whose child are you??”. She just wants to know. And the longer I’ve known her, the more her interest in my difference has peaked, and waned, and peaked again. Slowly, as she grows and her mind develops, disability is becoming more normalized, because she has been exposed to me and all my disability stuff.
I’m not sure that a Lego set will give kids exposure to a subset of people, bit it will at very least plant the seed. It’ll maybe make them expand their schemas. It might give way to inappropriate statements like, “Hey, you remind me of my Leggo wheelchair guy,” but that signifies the start of learning. What a lovely thing.
Finally, this Lego thing destroys a stereotype that is everywhere. It has an able-bodied person standing beside the wheelie. Yayy–I sure hope that if this becomes a tangible kids toy, that the walkie Leggo is part of the set. You have no idea how many times a month I get asked if my friends/dates/mother is also in a wheelchair. Three hips for integrated representation.
So, support this Lego Idea so it can become a reality. Click this link, and then press the big green rectangular button on the right-hand side of the page. The page will pop-up with an option of signing up with Facebook, Twitter, or regular old e-mail. Takes 5 seconds. Think of the children.