• Skip to primary navigation
  • Skip to main content
  • Skip to footer

Marjorie Clayman’s Writing PortfolioMarjorie Clayman’s Writing Portfolio

Professional writing profile of Marjorie Clayman

  • About Me
  • It’s a Little Thing
  • Book Reviews
  • Contact Me

It's a Little Thing

Chapter Five: Shoes, Clothes, and Fashion

by Margie Clayman

“People will stare. Make it worth their while.” ~Harry Winston

You’ll Never Be Beautiful

When I was a kid, I read a book that was written by a woman who was a Little Person. I got to a part where she talked about beauty, and she noted that a Little Person will never be considered beautiful. I was shattered by this statement. Unfortunately, the statement is perhaps sadly true in a world where women like Charlize Theron and Catherine Zeta Jones are the hallmarks of female beauty, it is hard for a woman who is not “statuesque” to hit the cultural markers of gorgeousness. That is not the fault of the Little Person. It is no secret that beauty expectations for all people are fairly unrealistic. Have you seen those mannequins with no heads?

How You Can Help

Whether you know someone with dwarfism or someone who meets any of the millions of qualities incorporated under the “imperfect” umbrella, make sure you bear in mind that inner beauty truly is what people will remember. It might not hurt to remind yourself of this fact from time to time as well. We all hold before us images of how we feel a perfect “me” would be. As the saying goes, strive for progress, not perfection. Perfection is unattainable. That should take a load off everyone’s shoulders. 

I Wish I Could Wear Kid Shoes!

One of the most common refrains I have heard across the board in my life, regardless of the setting, is something along the lines of, “It must be great to be able to buy kids’ clothes,” or, “I love those shoes. I wish I could still by kid shoes.” It is almost as if I am being offered a consolation prize that, no pun intended, falls rather short of the mark. “I’m so sorry you are smaller than average, but at least you can wear Barbie tennis shoes!”

If wearing kid shoes is just an option you might have in order to express your fun side, I can see how that would be appealing. Stepping into a gym wearing unicorn tennis shoes could be amusing and could perhaps set the tone for a joyous workout. On the other hand, if you are a professional who news shoes appropriate for a business setting, unicorn shoes just are not going to cut the mustard. 

What is it like when I try to find banal and boring “adult” shoes? II can perhaps best express a summation of the challenges by describing the place where I buy my highest quality shoes. It is a New Balance store. “What’s wrong with that?” Well, shoes in my size are not in the main store. There is a side room for children and toddlers, and that is where I have to go. Shoe displays on the girl side inevitably include red sparkly buckle shoes and unicorn boots. For a long time, Hello Kitty was my nemesis because she showed up on every pair of shoes within my size range. There have been many times when I have been getting a fitting at the same time as a toddler. To their credit, the sales people there have always been very respectful, but I think they can tell I am a little uncomfortable. I would guess they might be a little uncomfortable as well. I let them know I can tie my own shoes if they would like. Does it feel cool to try on shoes in a place where parents are buying a first pair for their infant? “Cool” is not the adjective I would use. I find it humiliating.

How You Can Help

Unless you own a shoe store, there is not much you can do for a person with dwarfism in this scenario. If you do own a shoe store or know someone who does, I would definitely make some suggestions about how a person who needs kid-sized shoes could still get their fitting on the adult side of the shop. Beyond that, please avoid the temptation to offer commentary about how cool kid shoes and kid clothes are. Adults who are striving to present themselves in a professional manner probably don’t want to hear that they look like a kid. I can only speak for myself, so I will say that I find these comments insensitive and crass. The only comparison I can think of is if you are twenty-something who is complimented on your “old man” shoes or something like that. That comment, however, would be more about style and less about the actual person. That is the dividing line between offensive and rude, I suppose.

Determined to Change the Narrative (from ItActuallyFits.com)

I have been fortunate in my social media explorations to happen upon a very unique store called It Actually Fits. On the website’s homepage, founder Lisa notes that 11,000 women currently have no clothing that actually fits them. How is that possible?

Most people will probably get an image of something akin to a little kid playing dress-up. You are not far wrong. Pants I try on sometimes extent six-12 inches BEYOND where my toes are. Dresses not only extent well beyond my feet, but the top also seldom works. Shoulders might be down at my elbows. The cut of the dress front would result in me appearing in a rather shocking manner as the collar sits below where my bra ends. The waistline might be more of a knee line. You get the point.

Why not just shop in the kids section and be quiet about it already? Well, here is the thing about clothing for girls (I cannot speak for boy clothes). When girls are around 10 years old, they do not have hips. They do not have a waist. They do not have boobs. Things happen to the female body as you develop, and pants cut for a 12-year-old might fit my legs, but i’ll never know because I can’t get them above my thighs. Again, this look is not one I would want to try in public. Yes, it is true that occasionally a larger size in the kids section may fit (barely), and it is true that kid clothing is often less expensive than adult clothing. 

Lisa of It Actually Fits started her amazing service because she thought maybe women with dwarfism might want to look not just professional, but actually tailored and comfortable. She custom-makes clothing based on measurements that are sent to her. There is no surprise when these clothes “actually fit.”

How You Can Help

The advice here is much the same as the advice offered for the shoe scenario. Please avoid comments like, “I bet it’s nice to be able to shop in the kids section.” Hint: It’s not. Also, consider avoiding well-intentioned advice like “get a tailor” or “why don’t you just make your own clothes?” Granted, there are people who can and do make their own clothing. This entails costs of different kinds. How much does fabric cost? How much does a really good sewing machine cost? Perhaps more to the point, do you know how to sew? Sadly, this is not a talent that is a genetic side effect of dwarfism. Just because I am small, I do not know how to make my own clothes, nor do I really have the time. Do you make your own clothes? It is not an easy fix, and tailors are expensive. The best bet is to keep an eye out for professional clothing that your friend or family member may have a shot at, and offer support with simple humanity. 

How We Are Written Out of Fashion

One out-of-the-box idea I was ready to try were the box platforms like Stitch Fix. I figured if the whole point of the business was to customize clothing, it could be a really big difference-maker. I logged into that and a few other sites. I was shocked to discover that none of them offered sizes that would fit me well. It was assumed that “petite” meant that you had all of the “correct” measurements. There was not a way I saw to manipulate the size charts to find something that would be worth my while. In other words, ‘Petite” did not just mean you were of small height, it also meant that you had a size zero waist. The fashion industry simply does not understand or care that there are some people out there who may be the height of a child but who is not stick straight like a child. This concept clearly does not compute. 

I am certainly not the first person to point out how grotesquely out of touch the fashion industry can be, and i will not be the last. However, I will say that fashion mavens need to be educated about people with dwarfism. People with Achondroplasia have even harder times because their legs are shorter. Some people with dwarfism may have very small arms and shoulders, or there may be some asymmetry in the body. This is a common symptom of Russell-Silver Syndrome, but it is one i avoided somehow. People can be petite but not thin. People can be tall and not thin, too. I am not actually sure who most clothing caters to, but I don’t think I have met them. 

If you want to learn more about the intersection of dwarfism, disability, and fashion, I suggest you look up Sinead Burke, who has been an outspoken advocate for better treatment from the fashion industry for those who are disabled. Slowly but surely, people with dwarfism, like Lisa, are rewriting the areas we have been written out of.

Filed Under: It's a Little Thing, It's a Little Thing

CHAPTER FOUR: Helping Can Be Hard

by Margie Clayman

“Our prime purpose in this life is to help others. And if you can’t help them, at least don’t hurt them.” ~Dalai Lama

Imagine this scenario: you are in a grocery store, in the produce section. You see a person with dwarfism looking up at the top shelf and trying to reach something up there (eggplants are usually near the top for some reason, so we will say they are trying to reach an eggplant or two). Do you have a moment of hesitation before approaching to see if you can help? Do you offer to help at all, or do you just keep walking? Alternatively, do you have no idea why I would even ask those questions?

This is not a time to self-judge. It’s about your blink reaction. Hang on to your answer.

Trying to Give Help

If you have that moment of hesitation, or if you keep walking, what are possible reasons why? I would guess some of the following:

  • Fear that you will come across as condescending, ignorant, or ableist
  • Fear that you will not verbalize your offer to help in an effective manner
  • Maybe the person will bite your head off
  • Maybe you are even worried that if you help grab that eggplant, you’ll be obligated to follow the person around and help them grab other things, too

Perhaps you have been in such a scenario, decided to offer your assistance, and even though the person was obviously struggling, they shrugged off your offer and said something like, “I got it. Thanks.” Once you get a reaction like this, I would imagine it would tamp down your future motivation to offer help in similar situations. 

Let’s talk about why it can be so difficult to help someone with dwarfism.

Trying to Get Help

There are several reasons why, speaking for myself of course because I can’t speak for everyone or anyone, may hesitate in accepting help. Here are a few common ones.

  • I like to come across, as all humans do, as “normal.” Sure, scaling a shelf might not epitomize normal, but I am still reaching what I want on my own with no assistance. There is a slight sense of empowerment there that getting help can diminish. 
  • I don’t like to feel obligated. Perhaps it’s my midwestern sensibility, but if someone goes out of their way to help me, even if it’s just reaching something for me, I feel like it is a debt I can’t pay back. There is not going to be a scenario later where I can reach up for something and grab it for them, for example. Explaining why what they did was such an extraordinary help also seems a bit awkward for just a small act of assistance. No one wants to hear your life story when they hand you that eggplant. 
  • I’ve been burned when I have asked for help before.

You read that last bullet point correctly. There have been times when I have asked for help and immediately regretted it. While I don’t know how common this is for people with any kind of disability, I would guess it is more common than it should be. Let’s look at a couple of examples.

“Cut their heads off.”

When I was in high school, I had to take Algebra II. I did not really understand why I HAD to take Algebra II because I certainly had not enjoyed Algebra I, but so it goes. I don’t remember how the seating was assigned in the classroom, but I was nearly at the back of the room. As you might imagine, it was hard for me to see the blackboard (perhaps dating myself here) over the heads of my fellow students. Despite the risk of feeling even more self-conscious than I normally did in high school, I decided to take the teacher aside after class one day. “Can I move my seat more to the front? I can’t see very well over everyone’s heads.” 

“Just cut their heads off,” he replied. And then he walked away. End of conversation.

I was rather taken aback. This happened some thirty years ago and it is still as fresh in my mind as if it had happened yesterday. Teachers, one thinks, are there to assist. Not only had I been dismissed, I had been dismissed in a rather crass and gratuitously mean way. Why would I expect better from someone not in a position to help me out?

The Grocery Store Experience

Going to the grocery store is one of my least favorite household tasks. Inevitably, at least 25% of what I need is on the highest possible shelf. This might be ice cream, it might be those tiny glass jars of artichokes, or it might be that eggplant I mentioned at the start of this chapter. When people ask me why I don’t ask for help and instead try to mountain climb my way up the freezer, I tell them a few of the comments or responses I’ve gotten in these situations. 

  • “Good job looking up that high!”
  • “I’m so glad I’m actually taller than someone”
  • “I bet you hurt your neck looking up there”

The worst experience i have ever had in a grocery store happened in the produce aisle. No, I was not trying to get an eggplant. I actually was reaching for a produce bag, which for some reason that I never have understood has to hang practically from the ceiling. I was reaching when a man approached to my right and said, “Oh you’ve got to be kidding me.” He pulled off a bag and handed it to me, and then he pulled another one and handed it to me. “I only need one,” I said. In rather a menacing tone that is hard to describe he said, “You’ll just end up asking me for another one anyway.” 

I legitimately felt threatened, and I asked to be escorted to my car when I was done because I was so scared. This in turn got me many smirks and chortles from the store staff. 

The Downside of Not Accepting Help

It’s all well and good to say, “Do me a favor and DO NOT help me.” However, in my mind this has at times devolved into shooting myself in the foot. I’ll give you an example. 

When I was in high school, my parents told me that there were scholarships available for people with dwarfism. Maybe I should apply for one. Being in high school I of course did not consider the potential savings that might have given to my parents. I mean, when you’re in high school it’s pretty much about you and yourself. However, I flat out refused to even research the concept. I did not want to touch that kind of scholarship with a ten-foot pole. Why?

Well, there were a couple of reasons. First, it was back to the being self-conscious aspect of having dwarfism. Did I want to go to the awards ceremony at the end of the year and have it announced that I had won a scholarship from Little People of America? I could already hear the snorts and chuckling. The stronger reason, however, was that I wanted no special treatment. Somehow I had gotten it into my head and heart that if I was going to do anything good, I wanted to do it from my own strengths and efforts. I wanted nothing that I would perceive as pity or charity. 

Sometimes people with dwarfism, or even just people who are bit shorter than average, are told they have “Napoleon syndrome” if they have an attitude like this. I never had a desire to conquer anybody, but I wanted to achieve as if I was on a level playing field even though I wasn’t. If I was hiking with my Girl Scout troop, I would trample up and down the same hills. I would do all of the same trail building activities, from cutting down trees to using a pulaski to clear roots. What did this get me? Extra sore arms, the occasional sprained ankle, and various other injuries. However, my pride was untarnished. I did not accept any special help. I did not want it. I hated the idea.

A person offering me assistance has to deal with all of my internal dialogue before I can even get to their external offer to help.

How You Can Help

This chapter has been all about the issue of help, and I’ve spent most of the time explaining why you might hesitate to give help to a person with dwarfism and why a person with dwarfism might hesitate to receive it. So, what am I saying here? Should you just walk on by when you see anyone with a disability having a hard time? Of course, the answer is no!

If you see a man or a woman with their arms full and you reach the door first, won’t you hold it open for them? I hope so (although not everyone has attained this skill). You are not likely making a statement with this gesture. It’s common courtesy. My best advice when trying to approach someone with dwarfism is to have that exact same frame of mind. You do not need to provide a preamble about how you have a relative who is also small. You do not need to make any commentary on what I am reaching for or how pleased you are that you can reach something I can’t. All you have to do is say, “Hey, can I help you get something?” I will most likely say with gratitude that you sure can. The only time I might abstain is if I already pretty much have it in my hand. I say thank you. You say no problem. That’s it. 

As for bigger issues, like if you know a young person who might be able to benefit from a scholarship specific to their disability, you really have to feel that out based on the individual. I’ve explained what my thinking was back when I was 17 or 18, but not everyone will feel that way. Other people may even be more vehemently against such suggestions. My best advice in these cases is to present the opportunity as assistance, not as a charitable gift or a sign of pity. Maybe you can try to make it utilitarian. “You’ll need adaptations for your car and help with college will leave more money for that expense.” 

Unfortunately, the cliche about leading a horse to water but not being able to make it drink applies here. I suppose you could force the issue, but I would imagine that would create a huge sense of resentment on the part of the person you are trying to help. 

Above all things, as you would hopefully be with anyone, just be decent as a fellow human being. Nine times out of ten, that will be enough to make me happy and filled with gratitude. 

Filed Under: It's a Little Thing, It's a Little Thing, Uncategorized

Chapter Three: The Driving Conundrum

by Margie Clayman

CHAPTER THREE: The Driving Conundrum

“You can’t just make me different and then leave” ~John Green, Looking for Alaska

Baseball, Apple Pie, and Driving

There are a few things the average American teen expects from the high school experience. These may vary based on what movies said American teen has watched. As a proud member of Generation X, I grew up with movies like Heathers and Pump Up the Volume, so my expectations may have been slightly darker and much more focused on Christian Slater.

Most teens expect to have way too much homework and to feel very put-upon by said workload. They expect to have a job, probably. If they’re athletic, they expect to have a busy sports schedule and lots of practices and training. But perhaps the most universal expectation for high schoolers is that as soon as they turn 16 or (15.5 as the case seems to be now), literally the moment they blow out the candles, they learn how to drive. This is the great passing of the torch, the rite of passage. Once you learn how to drive, you can do anything.You are practically an adult, and you don’t know that you don’t want to be an adult. 

I certainly had these expectations when I started high school.  Of course I did. We all take some things for granted. I’ll learn how to drive, I’ll get married, I’ll have a horrifying 1.5 kids.  I was a year younger than everyone because I started school when I was four instead of five (September baby for the win), so I was already raring to go. I started sitting in the driver’s seat in my parents’ cars just to get a feel for it. But this resulted in an unpleasant, if unsurprising, revelation.  I could not reach the pedals and I could not see over the windshield. One of these at a minimum is necessary and generally speaking, one hopes to be able to do both. 

Driving School

After realizing how far I was from being able to utilize the family cars, I completely skipped the concept of joining my classmates in the standard high school driving classes. I assumed that the driving lessons the high school offered would not be accessible to me because the car has to be as universally accessible as possible. Even if I had called, and let’s say even if I had gotten a chance to participate, I would have found the accessories of my accessibility (pedal extenders, pillows, books) humiliating. High school is a tough time to be really different from everyone else. 

Given this, my parents suggested I call a local driving company and see what accommodations they could offer, so I did. The woman who answered the phone for the first company I called  said, “Well, gosh, I don’t know. We have some phone books you could sit on.”

To me, this response seemed bereft of compassion and of humanity. It felt like I was being mocked by a stranger who hadn’t even looked at me. The mere concept of my needing help to drive was almost laughable. I felt hurt and hopeless. 

The conundrum had arrived. I would need to get a car outfitted for me so that I could learn how to drive, but how could I get a car to drive before I knew how to drive? Worse, how could I afford both a car and the special accessories I was sure I would need as a definitely not wealthy 15-year-old?

How You Can Help

A lot has changed since I was in high school, so hopefully accessibility in driving has improved. I just looked up the driving school my high school offers and there is nothing about the vehicle at all, so perhaps not much has changed. If you have a child or a friend who is not what society deems “normal” for whatever reason, encourage them to talk to the person in charge and fight for accessibility. If they do not want to do this, do not judge. It is tiring having to fight for everything that seems obvious to you, and, like I said, accentuating differences in high school is often the stuff of later stress dreams. If the “normal” driver’s ed isn’t an option help the person find specialized trainers who will be properly equipped and compassionate.

A  key  facet of living with dwarfism or any other kind of “difference” is that you are given a choice, and I say this with delicacy and care. You can live as a constant victim because your life is not fair, or you can live as an advocate and fight for yourself. 

This might sound like victim-blaming, but I do not intend it as such. It is justifiable to feel victimized when the entire world around you is not built for you. It most certainly is not fair. But you have to come to a point, or at least I have thought so, when you decide to make the world meet your needs insofar as is possible. You cannot just sit back and cry, because while that might purge the feelings it actually does not fix anything. It only makes you feel worse. The me of today would have reached out to many people in order to help myself learn how to drive. I was blessed with parents who did this for me and it has saved my life in many ways.

That Feeling of Dependence.

This driving conundrum stuck to me like glue until long after both college and grad school. I could not figure out how to untie the Gordian knot. Car first or drive first? How to drive first? How to get car first if can’t drive? Over and over again this circular enigma rattled my brain.

Throughout college and graduate school, I was entirely dependent on family and friends to get me where I needed to go. This once again contributed to my feelings of having no control over my own life. If someone was not available, I was out of luck. If out-of-state friends were coming back to Ohio but were within an hour of where I lived, I would not be able to see them most of the time. Still feeling like I was the center of the universe, I would feel very hurt that people would fail to travel two hours round trip to see me, so the bad feelings and the sentiment that I would never truly fit in anywhere unjustifiably continued. I did not know how much two hours of drive time was. It seemed easy enough in the passenger seat. Admittedly, perhaps my drama queen behavior continued on into my early twenties. 

After graduate school, I moved back home and began the journey of finding a job. My college loans would need to have payments made within six months of me leaving school, which translated into me needing my dream job within six months–or so I thought. Dream job or not, I knew I would need to be able to get myself where I needed to go. I could no longer ask my friends and family to cart me around. I felt more than a little bit hopeless.

Wally Snyder, the Angel I Needed

One day, things began to look up. My mom mentioned that she had done some research, and in that magical way only moms can explain, she had found a driving instructor who specialized in teaching people how to drive who might not otherwise have a way to learn. His name was Wally Snyder, and while driving instructors may not often be associated with heroism, he remains one of my greatest heroes to this day.

Wally settled the car conundrum because he knew how to adapt his car for “different” drivers. I believe he had a stack of books and some pillows that  I sat on. Wally was enormously patient, gentle, and calming. He had the innate gift of being able to tell what I was going to do before I did it, so if I was going to pull out too early or turn the wrong way, he would simply say, “mm mm,” and I would regroup. Wally spent an entire summer training me to pass the dreaded maneuverability test. Between my nervousness, my spatial awareness issues, and simply being a new driver, orange cones quickly became my nemesis.

One particular incident really showcases Wally’s remarkable empathy. After a particularly challenging lesson, I broke down into frustrated tears. I felt humiliated and tried to explain I was just really feeling the pressure to get this right. Wally’s patient demeanor never faltered through it all. I can’t remember what he said, but I remember feeling heard and understood.  I was not ashamed to show up for my next lesson with him. 

At long last, at the age of 25, I passed the written test, the driving test (on the second try), and the maneuverability test. I will never forget Wally Snyder’s role in my life and the fact that it was my mom who found him. Everybody could use a Wally Snyder.

Why I Hate Cars

I know there are many people who are passionately in love with their car or all cars. I have never liked cars. To me they have always been uncomfortable and scary. Yes, even with adaptive equipment.

Let’s start by discussing pedal extenders. These present a unique challenge for several reasons. First, most car dealerships are exceedingly uncomfortable adding or taking away anything from a car. In fact, the dealership where I bought my current car wouldn’t even add something to the trunk so that it would be easier for me to close. If you or someone you know needs pedal extensions, you most likely will need to find a uniquely certified company that specializes in this kind of work. 

How You Can Help

This issue of car dealerships and liability is a significant problem for disabled drivers. I was shocked that my dealership would not add a hook or something to the trunk of my car so I could reach it when it was open. It’s not like I drive through the trunk. If you are someone handy with cars or if you know someone, take some time to hook up the disabled person in your life with some help. Make sure nothing dangerous is added, of course, but within reason, we need all the help we can get.

Pedal extenders make it virtually impossible for any other person to drive your car, so sharing driving responsibilities on a road trip is not really an option. Pedal extenders also add a lot of extra weight to the pedals. This means it’s very easy to go too fast, and it’s very easy to press on the brake too hard and come to a lurching stop. It takes a while to get used to. I also found that the pedal extenders would feel very slippery when wet, which was certainly disconcerting. 

But even with the pedal extenders, I was not fully equipped to drive. I also had to have the seat all the way forward and I had to sit on something to bump me up higher.  To drive my first car, I sat on a short stack of books and a pillow. Getting everything just right took a long time, and in order to see and reach the pedals, my stomach was pressed right  into the steering wheel. I was fully aware, as all shorter-than-average people should be, that the airbag could easily break my neck if I got in an accident. Needless to say, driving was freeing in some ways but utterly horrifying in others.

The Size of a Child

For people with dwarfism, driving is inherently dangerous. All you really need to do to prove this is to Google “child seat guidelines”, most of which state that children should remain in a car seat until they are four feet nine inches. As a person who is a fully grown adult at four feet five inches, this is not workable for me.

This also points to many of the issues people who are smaller than average deal with in the driver’s seat. For example, I can flip the sun visor around all I want, but that doesn’t change the fact that  it is designed to help someone whose head is at the headrest of the seat. Since I and others with dwarfism are too small for the sun visor to help, we are going to suffer a lot more from sun glare, especially in the winter. Even the best sunglasses can only do so much to help with this.

Seatbelts are another factor. The driver’s seatbelt is supposed to pass over the shoulder, a nice bony area that is very protected. The seatbelt comes closer to the neck on shorter-than-average people like me. Another fun thing I learned when I first started driving is that in a car accident with enough force, a seatbelt in that position can actually behead the driver. Obviously, this is not safe. Most cars simply do not possess a feasible workaround. 

The Humiliation of Car Shopping

I have now been driving for close to ten years and have purchased two different cars. The first car buying experience was not too bad because I knew how to make a specific brand of car, the Toyota Camry, usable. I simply looked for that brand and went in that direction.Well, I got a Corolla, actually, but close enough.  Frustratingly, more recent iterations of that model started to use bucket seats, which make it essentially not viable for me. On my second journey to buy a new car, II had the rather humiliating experience of carrying a pillow around and “trying on” numerous cars with the salesman who was helping me. He is another hero of mine. He was immensely patient as I explained that I was not quite comfortable, or that the curvature of the windshield made it harder for me to see. If you have never walked around a car dealership’s lot with a pillow in tow, well, you are lucky.

While my experience buying my current car–a Honda Fit–went about as well as it could have, even this vehicle is less than ideal. I don’t need pedal extensions in this model, but I do still need to  sit on a pillow, and I am situated dangerously close to the steering wheel. I cannot see as well as you are supposed to over the windshield so I often miss curbs (or rather, I often hit curbs). However, for me it is as safe as I can hope for.

The Tip of the Iceberg

As extensive as all this seems, others with dwarfism need even more far-reaching accommodations to drive. Because I am on the taller end of the spectrum, I can get by with pedal extensions and sitting on a pillow. But many with Achondroplasia are smaller than I am, with a shorter reach both via the arms and legs. Their needs are greater than mine. Their cars sometimes need to be outfitted with hand controls instead of just pedal extenders and pillows. Many people need a special step to help them get in and out of their vehicles. Trunks are beyond inaccessible. 

Driving gives us a great sense of freedom. There’s a seemingly throwaway line in the movie Mermaids that has always stuck out to me: “With a car, you have the freedom to go anywhere.”You can go to a party, and then when you realize the party is boring, you can just leave,  Everybody deserves to have access to that kind of freedom. Hopefully, the auto industry will one day cater to someone who is not a 5’10 man. There are a lot of people in that category who find driving a little more difficult than it really should be.

How You Can Help

If you know someone who can’t drive, try to avoid being judgmental until you know all the facts. I am sure people came to resent my need to be driven everywhere even though they loved me. It’s a pain to be sure. But if the person you know is like me, they don’t like it any more than you do. They want control of their lives, and independence. Here’s to hoping we get there some day. 

Filed Under: It's a Little Thing, It's a Little Thing

Footer

marjorie.clayman@gmail.com

   

Margie Clayman © 2025