Today, I attended a session on universal design in Second Life. At the beginning, Atsuko Watanabe asked why Second Life and places in Second Life are not more accessible. She noted that in Second Life, accessibly can be added without cost, yet it is rarely added. Why is that?

“It is perfectly acceptable t have flying rabbit but an avatar in a wheelchair is not acceptable.” She went on to say, “I've often been challenged quite publicly as to why I chose too represent my self as disabled in SL”.

Possible interpretation is that SL is a mirror of the real attitudes of the inhabitants bring with them from the real world. Another interpretation is the "medical model", “that people with disabilities are broken and that they need to be fixed and in SL no one should have a disability because it is ‘Wrong’ somehow”

Atsuko Watanabe responds to that line of thinking by saying, “I'm not broken, I am proud of who I am”. Well, as a temporarily able bodied person, and an Episcopalian, I acknowledge that I am broken. My brokenness has nothing to do with any physical abilities or disabilities. It has to do with when I have not loved my neighbor as myself. To take the joke from those in wheelchairs, it is when I have appear to people in wheelchairs as just another belt buckle in the crowd.

It is in that mindset, that I entered the discussion on Orange Island about community rules in Second Life. A friend gave me a wheelchair, and I am now presenting avatar as disabled in SL. As I commented to my friend, it is my first experience surrendering my temporarily able bodiedness, so I may end up being quiet, unsure how to join in, but that may be an important part of the experience as well.

As I sit in the room, a friend teleports in and I bump into her with my wheelchair. She is a multiple stroke survivor and understands the struggles of those with disabilities better than I do. She graciously says, “hehe.. didn’t even feel it”

So, I try to listen into the discussion. At the same time, I try to write about my experiences while they are still fresh. I fail to connect with the discussion. I feel uncertain, unseen. Perhaps that is an important part of the experience. Perhaps we all need to get more in touch with the temporary nature of our able bodiedness.