By: Cheryl Angelelli
I once heard discrimination described as “being erased while standing in plain sight.” It’s the sting of being overlooked. The hurt of knowing you did everything right but still being treated as if you don’t belong. The frustration of knowing no matter how hard you try, the rules aren’t the same for you.
For most of my life, disability wasn’t something that defined how others treated me. In fact, as a former Paralympian and public figure, people always seemed to celebrate all my abilities, skills, and accomplishments. Sure, discrimination was something I knew existed but it felt distant—until the simple act of wanting to adopt a rescue dog dehumanized me in a way I could never have imagined. And for the first time, I felt what it meant to be defined by what others thought I couldn’t do.
In 2021, shortly after one of our two Shih Tzu rescue dogs passed away, my husband and I decided to adopt again. I was overjoyed when I saw a local rescue had two young Shih Tzus looking for a forever home. They were siblings wanting to be adopted together. We quickly filled out the online application. Within an hour, the director of the rescue called to say what a wonderful application we submitted and she was especially glad to hear we had experience with rescue dogs and Shih Tzus. It was just shortly after COVID, so the rescue wasn’t doing home visits yet; instead, we had to take photos of every room in our home as well as our front and backyard. In addition, we provided a letter of support from our veterinarian stating that we’ve always been proactive with our pet’s health and none of our dogs have ever been treated for anything due to neglect.
Everything was going great, and we were set to pick up the dogs in just a few short days. I also got a chance to talk with the foster mom who let me know how sweet and lovable the dogs were and that they had great personalities. At the end of the call, I asked the foster mom if the location we decided on to pick up the dogs was wheelchair accessible. She indicated it would be. The next day, I received a call from the director of the rescue saying we were no longer a match and we could forget about adopting these two dogs. She also accused me of lying on the application we submitted. There was a question that asked if anyone in the home had a medical condition. I answered “no,” because frankly, I don’t have a medical condition. I am not sick or under a doctor’s care. I use a wheelchair. That is not a medical condition, it’s a medical device and should have no bearing on my ability to adopt a dog. Furthermore, the woman indicated if I ever wanted to adopt one of her other dogs in the future, I needed to tell her why I was in a wheelchair, which frankly is none of her business.
She proceeded to tell me the reason I was no longer a match for adopting the dogs we applied for was because the dogs were very skittish. She said, “The dogs would be freaked out by a wheelchair.” I asked her if she ever witnessed the dogs being freaked out by someone in a wheelchair to which she admitted she had not. I also mentioned that the online profile about the dogs’ traits and personalities was just the opposite of skittish, as was the foster mom’s assessment when we spoke. I asked if we could do a “meet and greet” with the dogs to see if they would be receptive to me. She indicated I was being selfish for asking this and she was not willing to put the dogs through the trauma of being around a wheelchair.
This was a gut punch. I had never felt so dehumanized by another individual as I did in that moment. When news media later picked up the story, she told the reporter that she questioned my ability to care for the dogs. “What would happen if they were to run out of the house? What if they fell in our pool –could a person in a wheelchair even swim?” she questioned. First of all, I am a 4-time Paralympic medalist in swimming, so yes, I can swim. And she never mentioned these concerns to me during our phone conversation. If she had given me the opportunity to address her concerns, I would have shared with her the safeguards we have in place to keep our dogs safe. But I was never given the opportunity.
The dogs were ultimately adopted by another family. But that was not the end of the story. I never wanted another person with a disability to go through this painful experience. Filing a complaint with the U.S. Department of Justice (DOJ) was something I’d never done. But when your rights are violated for no good reason, you either accept it or fight back. I chose to fight.
How to File a DOJ Complaint
If you believe you’ve been discriminated based on disability, like I did, you have the right to file a complaint with the DOJ under the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA). You don’t need a lawyer, and filing is free. You can also request confidentiality if you’re afraid of retaliation. Here are the steps you need to take:
1. Determine Eligibility
You can file a complaint if:
2. Gather Information
Prepare the following:
3. File the Complaint
The easiest and preferred method for submitting your complaint is via an online form at https://civilrights.justice.gov/report/
What Happens Next
Filing the complaint against the dog rescue was a very long process. It took about nine months before they opened the investigation and two years before I received notice from the U.S. Attorney’s Office that they ruled in my favor, citing that “all too often, discrimination comes in the form of implicit bias, stereotypes or assumptions.” It agreed that I was judged not by my actual ability to safely care for the dogs I had hoped to adopt, but by my perceived inability to do so.
I was never out to seek monetary compensation; instead, I wanted systemic change. Under the settlement, the dog rescue was required to:
I felt vindicated. I’m glad I spoke up, and hopefully standing up for what is right will encourage others to do the same when they feel their rights have been violated. Discrimination can block access to jobs, education, child adoption, transportation, healthcare, and housing—things everyone should have a fair chance at. So don’t be silent. Speak up, seek justice, and demand equal treatment.
Today, I am the proud dog mom to three fur babies, and they don’t care that I’m in a wheelchair. They just know that they are safe and loved.
