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“I’m young with an invisible illness, and until public places have more chairs, I’ll keep sitting on the floor”

13th March 2022

The line at the bank that morning was long, and I was dizzy already. As a result of a chronic illness, I find it difficult to stand for long periods of time. I frequently feel lightheaded and weak, and on bad days, momentarily lose my vision, stumble, or fall.

Predicting a lengthy wait at the bank that morning, I scanned the room. Three of four chairs were taken, and several elderly people were queuing behind me. I left the fourth chair for anyone who needed it more than me and made the decision to sit down: on the floor, in my spot in the queue. I took care to ensure I wasn’t in the way of foot traffic, yet not two minutes after I’d crossed my legs on the carpet, an elderly man approached me, aggravation clinging to his words:

“You shouldn’t be sitting there.”

As an awkward, silent tension hung in the air, tears welled in my eyes and burned the back of my throat. I felt stupid at the time, fighting to hide my tears and wondering why I was reacting so emotionally to his scolding. I realise now my reaction was one of frustration and shame, but there’s one question I still can’t answer.

Why is the simple act of sitting on the ground so offensive?

This wasn’t the first time this had happened. All through high school and university, I often sat cross-legged on the floor when everyone else stood, and it irked people - teachers, librarians, an employee in a government building, and now, the elderly man at the bank.

Elena is sitting up in a hospital bed. She has dark shoulder length hair and is wearing a white hospital gown and a blue facemask.

By our society’s unspoken rules, it seems sitting on the floor is considered childish at best and unprofessional and antagonistic at worst.

Small children in a classroom sit on the carpet. Adults stand. Students and people experiencing homelessness sit on the ground at the train station. Adults stand. Good customers stand in line to be served. So those who sit are… rude? Making a statement?

Or perhaps, like me, they just really need to sit down.

It’s nonsensical that fulfilling such a basic physical need in public is seen as an act of hostility or accusation. As a young person with an invisible illness, I’m acutely aware that I don’t look like the “type” to need a place to sit down at my disposal, and I’m frustrated that simply sitting in the “wrong” situation is a social taboo.

What does the law have to say about sitting? Unsurprisingly, not much.

The only relevant laws are those related to workplace safety. Australia’s Work Health and Safety Act sets out regulations that require employers to provide chairs to their employees if they are to conduct most of their business sitting down. That’s it.

The same act, however, specifies that in places of work that serve the public, it’s up to employers to protect the health and safety of employees as well as the public. But protect them from what? 

Too much sitting. Yes, really.

SafeWork earnestly advises employers to manage the risk of too much sitting.  

What about the risks of not having enough chairs? Falls, fainting, discomfort and chronic pain, are very real, everyday experiences for people forced to stand more than they’re able.

But if even SafeWork is failing to remind employers that they should have more than enough seats available for people who need them, I’m not holding onto hope there’s always going to be a seat at the bank, chemist, or supermarket.

So until public places have more chairs, I'm going to keep sitting on the floor.

Elena is taking a photo in the mirror. She's holding a smartphone, and is looking at the phone's screen. Elena is also cradling a cat.

Elena Filipczyk writes about animals, autism and chronic illness. She is a rollerskating and music-obsessed vegan and intersectional feminist, who is autistic and has ADHD.