Beware of exploitation (part 1)

A little note about services for people with disabilities: Because we rely on other people, we’re also sometimes vulnerable. In Calgary, there’s a service called Access Calgary that drives individuals around who cannot drive (I’ll be talking about this service more later on). I usually feel safe on Access Calgary; I ask the driver every time how many stops there will be before I’m dropped off, and I look out the windows to watch where I'm going.

There was one time where I felt like my life was in danger and I had to speak up about it. It was Friday, May 25, 2007, and I was on my way home from school. I kept watching out the window but could tell that the driver of the bus was staring at me in his rear view mirror. I remembered him from the week before; he’d said I was a beautiful lady, and if he were younger, he’d ask me out.

There was another passenger on the bus when I got on, but the driver dropped him off. We were on the way to my house when he made another stop near a retirement complex. He pulled into a parking lot for an empty building and I thought he had missed his turn on his way to pick someone up. He parked the car in an empty lot. I started feeling apprehensive because I had forgotten my phone at home that day. I kept thinking about how I wanted to go home.

Every time I take Access Calgary, they need to strap in my wheelchair for safety, like someone wearing a seat belt. Unlike a seat belt, I can't remove those straps myself; the driver or someone else needs to do it. I can always stand up and get out of my wheelchair but where could I go without it? Even if I asked the driver to let me off here, I had no way of calling someone to come pick me up.

He got out of the driver’s seat, gave me a hug and then he put his hand on my neck and kissed me.  I thought in my mind then that he was going to rape me and I could not get away.  Then he touched my left breast. He started to put his hand inside my shirt and I told him to take me home right now.  He said he wished we had more time; I just looked down and didn’t answer him. Finally, when he brought me home and was unhooking my wheelchair from the bus, he said, “let’s keep this between me and you.”