Cumulative Effect by Barbara Ceconi

Dressed for work, I am rapidly walking down the street with my guide dog, on my way to facilitate a training session. I worry, as always, that the mass transit will be late. While walking, I am deep in thought on the subject matter of the day’s session.

Suddenly a man stops me. “Do you know where you are?” he asks.

I jerk myself from my thoughts, momentarily confused by the sudden interruption. Of course I know where I am and where I am going. What sort of question is that? Stunned, I look at my dog and respond, “Toto, we’re not in Kansas anymore?” I walk away shaking my head, annoyed by the interruption.

I run into a convenience store to buy some mints. The clerk rings up a few orders and I hear no one else in line. “Could you get me some wintergreen Tic Tacks please?” I query. “On the left,” he responds, apparently not looking up. The boxes are recognizable by shape, but not the flavors. I ask him again, explaining that I am blind. With a surprised, “Oh,” he leans over the counter and grabs a pack for me.

I am nearly at the subway station. Without a word, someone grabs my arm and drags me across the street. I struggle to pull my arm away from this stranger. “What are you doing?” I sputter. “I was just trying to help. Sorry.” The person walks away. Since the experience was disorienting on several levels, I now have no idea what corner I have been deposited on. I ask passersby where I am. “On the corner of Harvard and Beacon,” answers someone. It’s a four-way intersection, so that doesn’t situate me. I wait for someone else to pass. “Excuse me, what store am I in front of?” No response. Wait for the next person. “Can you tell me where the bank is?" hoping for information so that I can puzzle out my position. I feel frustrated and angry that others think they know what I need better than me.

After I receive the direction, I walk, reoriented, towards the subway stop. Once aboard, a pleasant woman offers me her seat. I respond with a curt, “No.”

My response was sharp and out of line. After the string of incidents, I am in no mood to be gracious. This well-intentioned woman, must have been shocked by the hostile intonation of my voice, and justifiably so. Others near her could have been as well. Interactions like these can cause people to jump to the conclusion that people who are disabled are angry. Normally, I would have thanked the woman and smiled. I snapped at her because of the accumulated frustration. I experienced during my brief walk. And those emotions landed on her. This is known as cumulative effect.

Cumulative effect occurs frequently with people who are discounted over and over again. Unfortunately, the individual who experiences such recurring incidents draws a conclusion: it is due to my difference, in my case, my blindness.