Paul Bogorin & Phantom - People, dogs and dignity | People of Justice 2022 Bucharest

. Hi there! I'm Paul and, on my left, there's Phantom, my service dog. I studied at the Faculty of Journalism in Sibiu and, now, I'm a freelancer working in radio, on voice-overs, as an audio producer and sound designer. Basically, I create shows and ads on the radio. To my left, as I was saying, is Phantom, my guide dog. Together, we make a team, because almost all the decisions we take while walking are the responsibility of one of us.

For example, he finds the pedestrian crossing and I decide the right moment to cross the street. Speaking about the street, as time passed, we've had lots of experiences. Some of them lacked empathy, while others were full of solidarity. Thanks to them, we made friends: humans, as well as dogs. The first thing I'd like to talk about are the situations based on pity and stereotypes.

From an early age, I had to face the pity of those around me. That sort of excessive and counterproductive pity. I was invited to the marriage of a female friend. Along with a few other friends, we decided to sing something, since I had my guitar with me. We started to sing, it was all very nice. However, at one point, I started to realise that the guitar didn't sound right. With my right hand, I felt the strings on a small part of it, everything was OK. I couldn't find any issues. After a few other failed attempts, one of the guys whispered from behind: Hey, rich guy! Someone put 200 lei between your strings. Lately, I find society has started to go in the right direction. I notice that a lot more people on the street are willing to give a helping hand to disabled people and that is great. However, it would great if we learned to accept the situations where someone really doesn't need our help.

A scene on the street: Hey, you need some help? I answer: No... Hi... It's fine, I pass this place often. But where are you going? Home. Alright, I'll take you to your building. It's safer this way. It's fine, thanks, I'll manage. Thank you very much for your kindness. No, no, no, come on, I want to do a good deed. God is up there. Of course, it's not a bad thing that people are willing to help out, but, when you don't need them, that help can very easily turn into a factor that raises one or multiple questions marks. Let me explain this through a funny story that is also embarrassing, that happened in Cluj, where I went to school. I wanted to cross a big boulevard. I asked someone near me to tell me when the light turned green. A third person, who was waiting at the light as well, exclaimed when the stop light turned the right colour: It's green, let's cross! Nothing wrong up to this point. Moreover, their attitude was praiseworthy. However, at the same time, he grabbed me by the back of the neck and he pushed me to the other side of the street. Once again, it's not the fact that he offered to help that was irritating, but the lack of any sort of question: Should I help? How should I lead you? Because this is a question of comfort, of personal space, and, sometimes, even of one's own dignity.

Now, let's return to the subject of my trustworthy partner, because I feel like I've talked too much about myself. Phantom is an amazing dog. I'm not saying this because he's my own dog. You're great, Phantom. His actions demonstrate this fact wholly. He saved me from falling into an excavated ditch, open sewage pipes that weren't signalled. He helped me find my tent in a camping site in Felix, after me and four other blind friends spent two hours walking around aimlessly trying to find it, without any result. We'd just arrived at the location. We put up the tent and, afterwards, hungry and thirsty, we went to a nearby shop to buy some stuff from there. When we got back to the camping, the tent was nowhere to be found. We were simply going round and round, without any hope of finding it, because it was hidden in a circle made up of the other tents and trailers. We kept fumbling around and I thought I should say to my dog: Phant, the tent! This was the first time I'd given this command to him in his life and in my life. Surprise: he found it. I have to be honest, thanks to Phantom, I became more popular as well and I successfully met more people than I ever thought I would.

Look, for example, you, in this very moment. Also, since we've formed a team, I started to learn seeing others with different eyes, as well as the conflicts I was part of. The phrase to see with different eyes is just a way of demonstrating that we are the same kind of people as you, with the same language, the same expressions. So, yeah, we, too, say: See you soon and I watch TV and so on. I was saying that I learned how to manage conflicts better because I've encountered them abundantly, ever since I've been walking alongside Phantom. What I can say is that Romanian society is not fully ready to welcome service dogs in a way that allows the beneficiaries to also feel comfortable. I had to confront all sorts of negative behaviour: people who have pushed Phantom around, and, sometimes, even me, trying to stop us from getting on public transport or from having access to public spaces.

Certainly, there weren't many instances, two, three, four, but it was enough for me to become completely disappointed in the quality of the society I'm living in. Every time I try to order an Uber, a Bolt, a taxi, every time I enter a venue, a shop, a public institution, I think to myself: What kind of issues will I face here? Who is going to insult me? Hey, mister! Dogs aren't allowed in here! In Sibiu, in the mall, they told me I was allowed inside with the dog only if I held him in my arms. In Bucharest, at Mega Mall, they told me to tie up the dog at the entrance. Another time, still here, when I got downstairs, security asked me: Hey, listen, how did you get inside with this dog? A question that was accompanied by a hand hitting my chest to intimidate me and prevent me from going any further.

Since I understand the lack of proper information in Romania, every time, I explain patiently to those who are willing to listen what this dog actually is, what his role is, the way he helps a blind person and so on. It's frustrating, especially since there are many who are unaware that there is a law for the unrestricted access of these animals in public spaces and transportation, no matter whether it's Bolt or Uber: Law 448, article 64, paragraph 5.

However, I believe that it's worth explaining to people what a service dog is. Why? Because it doesn't bother me that I have to hold the same speech 20 times a day, if the people hearing it are open to learn something new and widen their horizons. However, I believe that it's an enormous success when someone exclaims: Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't know that, go right in! Obviously, despite my efforts to explain the situation in a logical and balanced fashion there are ignorant people who think they know it all and say something like: Yeah, I know there's a law that says that blah, blah, blah. But you're not allowed in my car, in my restaurant, in my bus... And so on.

And the job market is also quite difficult to navigate for us, disabled people. It's this way because employers think that a disabled person has a lower productivity than a typical person. It's not true. Sometimes, we are more motivated to work. I can assure you that, 99.9% of the time, it's not the case. At the moment, personally, I am working at four radio stations throughout the country, in addition to being involved in various other projects. In the beginning, I talked about pity.

At the end, I'd like to get rid of it and to concentrate on dignity. Because all of us need it to a greater or lesser degree. This is what I would like to feel in my relationship with the environment, other people, and the state. 0% pity, 100% dignity! Obviously, this mathematical reversal can take place only if I and the other disabled people maintain a positive attitude towards our independence and our rights and if typical people, meaning those without regulated disabilities, are willing to break down the barrier of stereotypes and treat us the way they like to be treated: with respect and dignity. Thus, together, we can lay the foundation of a just system, which, for me, would mean a country where I no longer have to be humble and ask for something that is rightfully mine. So... Moreover, something happened to me in Sibiu.

I'm talking about the fact that people have mobilised in an amazing fashion and, even more than this, civil society and the civic duty in people does exist. After multiple campaigns that took place in the city, in the press, on local television, because I didn't have access, with my dog, on public transportation, in public spaces, at one point, I was pleasantly surprised by people's attitude. A driver wouldn't let us get on a bus. That's when I was most surprised by the attitude of the people. At one point, some people got off the bus and shouted: This bus isn't leaving the stop, until the boy with the dog gets on.

I believe that, through this example, that this ailing society, with its shortcomings, the society we live in, for all its faults, has chances of improving through each and every one of us. However, in order to confirm, once again, that we are also normal people, like all the others: for some, it might be a fetish to have sex in the dark. But we do it every day. I bow before you.

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The People of Justice 2022 shows were produced alongside Decât o Revistă, a team of journalists who believe in the transformational power of stories.

Together with over 1,000 viewers, we imagined what a more just Romania could look like through vulnerability, empathy and the power of example. In each city we brought on stage lawyers, journalists, civic activists and artists whose true stories about justice: how we achieve it, what it means for justice, education, the healthcare system or our cities.