I grew up during the Disney animation resurgence, so my childhood was filled with cheerful songs and parental cartoon death. The first movie I saw in theatres was The Lion King, which is also probably why I’m in therapy today. After constantly watching, rewinding, and rewatching VHS copies of Aladdin, The Little Mermaid, and Beauty and the Beast, I finally went to Disney World in Orlando with my grandmother and cousin when I was 7 years old.
I don’t remember much from my day-long excursion at Magic Kingdom, but I still have some core memories from it. First, Space Mountain fucking rules. I completely understand why people will wait 2+ hours in line to experience it. Second, and speaking of lines, this is where I learned of my gift. At such a young age, I realized there was a major perk to being disabled: I don’t have to wait in lines. I could walk at this stage in my life, but my strength was very limited, especially in the oppressive heat. Skipping every line to go right to the front was a game changer. Damn right I was going to take advantage of that accommodation.
If you’ve never endured a Florida summer, allow me to enlighten you. The humidity is overpowering. The second you exit somewhere with air conditioning, your entire body becomes wet and you start breathing like you have a bag over your head. But, not being able to walk grants you the privilege of going from ride to ride without waiting in a crowd filled with screaming kids and annoyed parents. I felt like the disabled King Tut, a boy king being brought around in my manual wheelchair throne.
I had a fantastic time but, unfortunately, three years later I walked for the very last time and I thought I would never go back.
Fast forward to the summer of 2021. I felt invincible. I just survived 2020, got vaccinated, and was ready to get back into the world. I had also recently met someone who would help me fall in love with Disney all over again.
We went to Disney World together with the help of Hulu. It was the first time my career helped me set something up of this scale and I finally felt like my hard work earned me something. VIP status, ride passes, food reservation priority. Everything you could only dream of.
But what surprised me the most was how accessible everything was for people like me. Every bus had a simple fold out ramp to get on and off. Every monorail stop was easily accessed by a walkway or elevator. I could go on so many rides and stay in my wheelchair, including a boat! I hadn’t been on a boat in almost 15 years before that.
Disney World makes me feel like I belong. Like I’m equal to everyone else and not an outcast. It’s sad that it’s so remarkable a place doesn’t discriminate against me, but it gives me a feeling of genuine joy and happiness. It was one of the few places where I feel respected.
If anyone from Disney reads this: Thank you. Also, sponsor me and bring me back.
Solidarity forever.
-Steve
Disney is pretty good about accessibility compared to other theme parks, though I heard Universal Orlando at one time was even better (not sure that still applies, however). I have always used a wheelchair and family trips to Orlando every couple of years all throughout my childhood. It was great to see new innovative ways that the Imagineers would incorporate a wheelchair directly into some of their newest attractions, but it was equally frustrating to see new concept rides that weren't as creative as I felt they could've been to accommodate folks such as us. For instance, I believe there had to be away to load a wheelchair into the ride car on Rise of the Resistance and maybe have it programmed to exert less G forces when turning and moving, and perhaps using a different route down besides the drop at the end. Since each of those cars are autonomous, and they are large and generally go on a flat surface, I don't get that decision. But yes, Disney is great and it is still great to enjoy some of the attractions without needing to transfer!