Roughly a month ago, visitors of Robinson Place Dumaguete were in for a surprise: By one of the entrances of the commercial center was a foreigner lying on the floor beside a Golden Retriever, the man in silent protest because they were both denied access to the mall. Most private establishments in the country do not allow the presence of animals within their premises, but to Mark Cohen, his four-legged friend is more than a pet—Happy is his assistance dog.
According to a story by Rappler, Cohen is suffering from a “neurological disorder with variant symptoms similar to epilepsy, Parkinsosnism, and sensitivity to changes in the environment such as temperature and intensity of light.” With the help of Happy, Cohen is able to mitigate the effects of his disability and go about his day-to-day activities.
This incident in Dumaguete caused an uproar on social media, after photos of them captioned in protest of the situation went viral on Facebook. Cohen was soon able to patch things up with the mall’s management after the latter was duly informed that Happy is in fact a certified assistance dog; the two were eventually allowed to enter the mall.
Problem solved? Not quite.
Cohen’s case is not an isolated one, and it opens up the discussion on whether the current Philippine society has fully grasped and accepted the rights of persons with disabilities (PWDs) or not. One does not even need to consult academic journals to see how Filipinos view PWDs in general. Place a person on a wheelchair or someone using crutches in the middle of a crowded street, and passers-by would undeniably stare and even immediately jump to the conclusion that he or she is a beggar.
This is a sentiment shared by Joon Baltazar, a quadriplegic street performer whom I met over the summer for a story I was working on for my internship. Baltazar says he has grown accustomed to people whispering behind his back whenever he’s out in public places. “I’d really hear it from my peripheral hearing, ‘Dapat sa bahay na lang ‘tong naka-wheelchair na ‘to eh! Lumalabas-labas pa! Masikip na nga!’ (I’d hear people say from my peripheral hearing, ‘This man on a wheelchair should stay at home! He goes out when there’s no space anymore!’)”
Luckily, Baltazar is resilient and continues to advocate for the rights of the PWD community in his own way: He says street performing not only allows him to pursue his passion in music and earn a living, but it also gives him a chance to work in an environment physically conducive for PWDs and allows him to break the permeating negative stigma on PWDs. He currently performs in the Bonifacio High Street, and tagged photos on Baltazar’s Facebook wall show that he is loved and appreciated there.
The Philippines does have Republic Act No. 9442 or the “Magna Carta for Disabled Persons, and for Other Purposes,” which, among other things, gives PWDs the right to access public spaces and public transportation. The law also mandates PWDs to have identification cards detailing certain privileges, including discounts to most services and access to government assistance projects like scholarships and livelihood opportunities.
Beyond the implementation of the law, however, perhaps the challenge that individuals like Cohen and Baltazar pose for us is to see them not for their disabilities but for the simple fact that they are human beings like us. Only with this mindset can we truly recognize that everyone deserves an equal chance to an independent, joyous and fulfilling life.
