Thrown Away Like Luggage: The harsh reality of traveling with a disability.

My father never flew. Not once in his life.

He developed quadriplegia at the age of twenty after a car accident, and he knew that airlines were not set up to support him. He knew his electric wheelchair wouldn’t be accommodated, that there were no accessible restrooms, and that transferring in and out of a standard airplane seat would be a logistical nightmare with little to no assistance. For any trip we took, we drove. And a wheelchair accessible van made that happen.

Years after his passing, I found myself in a TSA security line at my local airport, witnessing firsthand the very barriers my father had avoided. A woman a few places ahead of me had limited mobility and was asked to remove her shoes. She calmly explained that she couldn’t do so from her chair. The TSA agents forcibly removed her and placed her in the bin for scanning.

When she passed through the metal detector, the alarm, predictably, went off.

What happened next was nothing short of humiliating. The TSA agents huffed and rolled their eyes, frustrated that they now had to do a full scan using a handheld device. After they found nothing, one of the agents wheeled the woman into a corner, positioning her wheelchair to face the wall, dumped her shoes and belongings on the floor beside her, and walked away without a second glance.

She couldn’t reach her things. She couldn’t put her shoes back on. And they left her there.

I saw what was happening as I gathered my own belongings. I walked over and asked if she needed help. Her eyes welled up with tears. She was humiliated. I knelt down and asked if I could help her put on her shoes. I let her know that I used to help my father do this. I gently put her shoes on for her and helped secure her bags to the back of her wheelchair.

As I did, I could feel the eyes of the TSA workers on us. They weren’t concerned. They weren’t apologetic. They were watching, judging, and uninterested in the harm they had caused. I could feel the anger on my face as I glared back at them. Every swear word spun through my mind as I thought about how many people experience this level of mistreatment every single day. I imagined my father in her place and felt a deep, gut-wrenching sadness.

This should not be happening. And yet, it happens all the time.

The Cost of Airline Negligence

This isn’t just about TSA. It’s about the entire airline industry and how it treats people with disabilities as an afterthought—if they are considered at all.

In 2023, the Department of Transportation (DOT) reported that more than 11,500 mobility aids, including wheelchairs and scooters, were lost, damaged, or mishandled by airlines. That’s 11,500 people stranded, their independence taken from them. And now, in 2024, major airlines are suing the Department of Transportation (DOT) over new rules designed to protect disabled travelers. These rules would impose strict fines on airlines for every wheelchair they lose or damage—because holding them accountable is considered “regulatory overreach.”

Consider the outrage when an airline loses a passenger's luggage. The stress of recovering your belongings, the inconvenience of waiting days to be reunited with your clothes. Now, imagine if instead of a suitcase, it was your only means of moving through the world.

Imagine landing in an unfamiliar city, only to be told that your wheelchair was broken beyond repair. You are stranded, trapped, and powerless. And unlike a suitcase, the financial cost of a replacement is staggering. Many wheelchairs are custom-built, costing thousands, sometimes tens of thousands, of dollars. I have seen firsthand what happened to my father when his wheelchair broke down. My family had to pay the cost because our insurance didn't provide enough support. Airlines are often slow to reimburse, if they compensate at all. Some travelers have even had to resort to sleeping in airports, unable to leave because their chairs never arrived.

Yet, people still question why disability rights matter.

The Power of Lived Experience

Growing up, disability was a constant part of my life. My father’s wheelchair, my own disability, my sister’s Turner syndrome and cerebral palsy, and later, my mother’s legal blindness after a failed corrective surgery—I have seen, over and over, how the world fails to consider people like us. And I have felt, many times, the painful sting of discrimination, ableism, and exclusion.

I know what it’s like to have people recoil at the sight of my hands, to refuse to shake mine out of disgust or fear. I know what it’s like to be treated as less than human, called a monster or a mutant. Have someone scream in terror at the very sight of my missing fingers, or asked if they touched my hands would they catch it. AS if I have leprosy. All because I look different. And I know I am not alone.

And yet, I also know that experiencing life with disability—whether personally or through family and friends—teaches us something invaluable. It teaches us perspective. It forces us to navigate barriers, to problem-solve in ways others never have to. It fosters empathy, adaptability, and resilience.

This type of experiential learning is highly effective. It’s what allows us to step into someone else’s shoes—if we’re willing to do the work and take the time to truly listen with the purpose of understanding, we can begin to see the urgent need for change. It’s how we build inclusion, strengthen communities, and drive innovation. It’s how we create a world that sees all people as worthy of dignity, respect, and belonging. Lived experience changes perspectives. It has the potential to be transformative. Fosters us to move from passive awareness to active inclusion. 

We Must Do Better

The way airlines—and society as a whole—treat people living with disabilities is unacceptable. We must do better. We must demand better.

No one should have to avoid flying out of fear of being stranded. No one should have to sit in a corner at TSA, humiliated and helpless. No one should have to watch their independence be tossed onto a baggage cart like an afterthought.

This should not be happening. But it is.

And it’s time we take action.

Bryony Grealish