Top 10 Facts Wheelchair Users Can Understand


A person in a wheelchair enters a modern office meeting room with glass walls, where a group of professionals is seated at a conference table.

Author: Max Brault

Many non-disabled people often say, 'Don’t let your disability define you.' But the truth is that my disability plays a large part in my self-identity, and that’s not a bad thing.

My disability has shaped who I am in profound ways. The experiences I’ve had as a person with a disability have changed how I view the world, how I communicate, and how I react to different situations. My disability has given me the confidence to speak up for what I believe in and stand up for what is right. It has guided me towards a career that I began pursuing many years ago, and it continues to shape my professional and personal journey.

Here are a few things you should know about me when we meet in person so that we can start off on the right footing.

1. Address me directly.

When I’m out with my family and I approach you to ask for a table or to make a purchase, do not direct your response to the person beside me, while ignoring that I initiated the conversation. Do not hand or slide the bill directly to my wife, assuming I cannot pay. If you are unsure, place the bill in the center of the table.

My wheelchair is not an indicator that I am unemployed or financially incapable of handling my responsibilities. It especially doesn’t mean that the lovely woman sitting with me is a relative taking me out for a monthly outing. It’s not only demeaning to me, but it is a stinging insult to my wife.

Over the years when these situations happen, rather than cause a scene, I’ve learned to rise above it by giving my business to another establishment. On rare occasions when it's something I really need or a place I want to enjoy, I let my wife or friends express their frustration. I typically say, “It would have been better to talk to me directly.”

2. I don’t know everyone with a disability.

I work in the disability community, so I am fortunate to know a fair number of people with disabilities. However, this does not mean that I automatically know that person across the street in her wheelchair or that blind person sitting on a patio. Just because I’m Canadian, that doesn’t mean I know Peter Smith from Canada, even if he uses a wheelchair.

3. My wheelchair is not a muscle car.

Don’t ask me how fast my wheelchair can go or how many kilometers I've traveled in it. I honestly don’t know, as my power chair doesn’t have an odometer. My wheelchair isn’t a sports vehicle: it’s simply a tool that gets me from point A to point B.  There are days I jokingly wonder about painting the number of people I’ve 'hit' on the side of my wheelchair because they jumped in front of it, thinking I can stop on a dime.

4. Why a salute is better than a handshake.

My hands and arms are constantly dirty from using my manual wheelchair. In the middle of winter, my hands get soaked from the wet ground, especially when there's snow everywhere. I’ve tried every brand of gloves, but nothing seems to prevent it.

So, if I give a bit of an awkward salute instead of offering my hand for a handshake, it’s my way of protecting you from my very dirty hands. It’s likely because I haven’t found a place to wash them, or I’ve run out of wipes.

5. No, I can’t hold that for you.

Front pockets on pants or jeans are terrible—everything just slides out of them, and my back pockets are useless since I’m sitting on them. Knowing this, don’t ask me to hold anything in my pockets.

Also, don’t ask me to balance something on my legs or hold onto something while we’re on the move. I need both arms to push my wheels, so having something on my lap that slides just throws off my rhythm, making it hard to keep up or even move in a straight line.

6. You would not believe how much it costs to look this good.

In the winter, my shoes and the lower part of my pants or jeans become filthy very quickly. It feels like I’m wearing everything I’ve encountered throughout the day. It’s rare that I can wear the same pants again without having them cleaned, which leads to high monthly dry-cleaning costs.

7. Standing on my tippy toes is not an option.

Reaching for items on high shelves or counters in grocery stores or other shops is impossible.

8. Being a homebody can be a good thing.

I rarely get to visit our family and friends because their homes and facilities are physically inaccessible. Therefore, my wife and I tend to host events for our family and friends at our own home.

9. Only the classiest Gin Joints get my business.

I usually plan group outings with family and friends because I have a specific list of accessible venues, restaurants, and bars. The same applies to large family or friend vacations, as I ultimately know what will work best for me and my needs.

10. Just let me know where you’re going, and I’ll meet you there.

Since I can’t just hop into anyone’s random car for an outing, I need some time to plan my travel from one location to another. I have a modified van that I can travel in with my diligent wife at the wheel, or I’ll use car services that are equipped to handle my specific needs.

The Take-Away

My disability has taught me to recognize and value what truly matters in life. It has made me more open to listening to others’ perspectives and be less judgmental.

While my disability plays a large part in what defines me, it is not the only aspect that matters. My family values, my morals, my passions, and my love for family and friends all play a part in who I am and what I aspire to be. My disability impacts every action I take each day, and it continues to shape every part of who I am.

There are no rose-tinted glasses for me: I see life through the lens of disability. I am proud of my disability and the perspective it has given me. It’s a part of me, and I embrace that fully.


A brief note about the author

Max L. Brault joined Nīewe Consulting in 2024 to lead the Accessibility Consulting practice. As a leader in legislation and policy with nearly four decades of experience, Max focuses on advancing employment equity and workplace accessibility. As a person with Spinal Muscular Atrophy, he has made significant contributions to the development of progressive accessibility legislation for the Government of Canada.

I share weekly insights and news articles highlighting significant, positive advancements within the global disability community, along with occasional pieces authored by me or in collaboration with fellow contributors. Follow my updates on LinkedIn to stay informed about impactful developments driving inclusivity and innovation. Link: Max L. Brault

Understanding Accessibility

At Nīewe Consulting’s Understanding Accessibility, we are dedicated to helping people understand the needs of persons with disabilities. The Accessible Canada Act, as well as provincial legislation around accessibility, aims to remove barriers and enable full participation in society for people with disabilities.

Click Understanding Accessibility to visit our site to explore new ideas, new points of view, gain insight from our thoughtful, innovative leaders in our communities on how to tear  down barriers, spread education, and deepen understanding.

A man sits at a desk in a conference room with a nameplate displaying "CANADA" in front of him. Other participants are seated in rows behind him, with country nameplates.