I was in grad school at the University of Illinois for
Landscape Architecture in the early 80’s. It would still be a few years before the
Americans with Disabilities Act would pass, but some of my design classes were
addressing the issue of accessibility. Another Landscape Architecture grad
student, Tom, was in one of these classes and he got very agitated when one
day, the discussion focused on the spatial requirements necessary for a bathroom
to be made accessible for the standard wheelchair. He didn’t think that
business owners should have to give up valuable square footage to accommodate people
in wheelchairs.
As a 22 year old, I honestly had never focused on the fact
that there are physical barriers everywhere that can severely limit the way a
handicapped person engages with life. I had the fortune to live with a certain
level of arrogance as an able-bodied person, ignoring the fact that a 6” curb or
a set of steps that I could casually navigate might effectively be a 6’ wall
covered with barbed wire to someone in a wheelchair. I began to appreciate
that, as a designer, I had a responsibility to consider how an entire spectrum
of people might use a space.
As Tom expressed his upset over regulations that could be
forced on private property owners, I decided, “Yup….I am totally joining this
discussion.” I came in swinging with my point that once a person opens their
business to the public, their ‘private’ space becomes public and must be in
compliance with local and national regulations. None of us lives in the wild,
wild west anymore where we get to make up rules that conveniently benefit our
own, limited self-interests.
Maybe Tom wasn’t used to being challenged…I don’t know, but
he steadily raised his voice until he was yelling at me because I wouldn’t
yield at all towards his opinions. The discussion came to an
abrupt end when Tom yelled that anyone in a wheelchair should be required to
have a colostomy thereby eliminating the need for wheelchair accessible
bathrooms. The whole class, even those who were benignly ignoring the
discussion, looked at him with expressions that said, “Whoa, dude….really?!”
Yes, he really meant it, but he realized that he had crossed a line that most
of the class found rather appalling and chose to be quiet.
My 22 year old self had no idea how much the Americans with
Disabilities Act would eventually come to mean to future me. As a mother of
twin sons, both blind and one who is also in a wheelchair with profound
disabilities, a challenging life is made just a bit less challenging because of
those pesky ramps, handicap parking spaces, curb cuts and elevators that are sometimes present only
because they were legally required to be present.
If it takes legislation to
make us benevolent towards one another, that’s fine with me.
Thank you ADA!
