23/06/2026
As I walk through a park, a town, a mall or attend an event, one of the biggest barriers I face is silence.
I pass many people each day, yet very few speak to me. When my white cane is visible, people often do not know what to do or say. Silence feels safer to them. Stepping aside feels polite. Avoiding interaction feels easier than risking a mistake or feeling personal discomfort.
Many assume that being quiet as I pass is helpful. For me, it is not.
What is helpful is a simple hello. When you cannot make visual connections, silence can quickly turn into loneliness and isolation. Neither feels good.
One of my biggest pet peeves is when adults shush children as I approach. Curiosity is natural. Children notice differences and ask honest questions. When adults shut that down, they miss an opportunity to teach connection and instead teach avoidance.
When a child asks, “What is that?” or “Why is she doing that?” they are talking about my white cane. That moment is an invitation and I often take it.
I turn to the child and parent, say “hello I am Gina, i heard you are curios about what I am holding or doing.”
I explain that it is called a cane and it is white to let other know the person using it has low to no vision. I explain that silence is not helpful and that saying hello is like a smile I cannot see. It also opens the door for me to ask a question about my surroundings if I need to.
Sometimes I ask the child if they would like to touch my cane and I explain why it is important to always ask before touching a person or their mobility device. Two or three minutes of conversation can change how that child and that parent interact with the next person who is blind that they meet.
Another common experience is walking into a busy, chatty room and suddenly everything goes quiet. The energy shifts and conversations pause.
I am not contagious nor I am not a threat. I am simply someone using a cane to move safely through my environment.
People who are blind, have low vision or live with other disabilities are not as different as many assume. Our eyes, bodies or brain may work differently but the rest of us is the same.
We have hobbies, talents, jobs and go to school. We have children, pets and families. We travel, try new things and some of us are adventurous. I do everything my sighted peers do, (except drive) sometimes I use different tools, technology or alternative techniques. The outcome is the same, even if the path looks different.
Disability is not something to be afraid of. You cannot catch my blindness but you might gain a friend or an ally if you take the time to connect.
Uncomfortable conversations are necessary if we want to break down barriers created by assumptions, misconceptions and lack of understanding. When we talk to each other and learn how to support one another, it takes the guesswork out and makes difference feel normal rather than awkward.
Many of us are advocating for accessibility because we need it to participate fully. Every person reading this will age. Bodies slow down,
aches and pains increase. Either Vision, Hearing, Memory or Mobility changes. Many people will also experience more than one of these at the same time.
Understanding accessibility, accommodations and inclusion now helps build a future where support is already in place when you need it.
Take time to get to know us as people, not as disabilities. When your own abilities change and they will, you will have much more to talk about than a new diagnosis.
Imagine a world where accessibility is simply part of everyday design. Where no one has to struggle just to participate. Where support is standard rather than requested.
Accessibility benefits everyone and it harms no one. Even when you do not need it, it quietly supports many. Accessibility creates a kinder, more connected society for all of us.
“Having a disability does not change who we are. It changes our interactions with the world.” - Gina Martin
DiverseAbilities.ca
Photo description
Gina is walking along a path near a park. A mother has her arm around her son and they are standing on the grass, to the side so I can pass..
