I noted that beside the luggage cart was a popular place for the non-disabled to wait for each other.
I have been mistaken for luggage.
I have been treated like luggage.
I have been transformed into a thing to be moved.
I know what it’s like to assume my humanity when others do not.
I have had my chair grabbed and shoved, against my will.
I have been made to move to get out of the way when I was already out of the way.
I have been referred to as a tripping hazard by overzealous security guards.
I am not luggage.
Here’s the thing. Ableist privilege is being able to stand by a luggage cart with the surety that passers by can see the difference.