Rolling Through

Have you ever walked into an invisible wall? 

There’s something in the way, but no one even knew it was there. 

That’s what it’s like when you hit an access barrier.  It could be a small step, a locked door or a crowded aisle. 

With a bit of planning, an invisible wall can often be turned into the Yellow Brick Road that gets everyone where they want to go. 

Here are 5 invisible access walls and strategies for transforming them into pathways.

1: Shields are up

What do a small step and the defence shield of the Death Star have in common? 

They both block access. 

A small step is the barrier I hit most often as a power wheelchair user and it often stops me from going any further. 

The step can be so small that people who can walk never even notice it. but it only needs to be a few centimetres high to block the access of a power wheelchair user.

It subtly creates a segregated space.

There’s no sign in the window that says, “we don’t serve wheelchair users”. It’s just a step; but it means that if I can be served at all, I’m served outside; or online, away from the premises altogether.

The premises are open to the public – but off limits to me.

A manual chair user might do a little better. 

Manual chair users are adept at tipping the front of their chairs up to get over a step, even a gutter; but a power chair is easily stopped in its tracks.

Sometimes, everyone stands around bemused and sympathetic, shaking their heads and saying, “it’s only a small step”. Sympathy is sometimes nice, but it doesn’t change the size of the step.

How to take the shields down:

What will get a power chair in the door is a flat entrance or permanent ramp.

Sometimes all it takes is filling in the space under the step and building it out a little bit to form a ramp.

Then wheelchair users can come and go as we please just like everyone else. That’s what we really want.

If that’s not possible, then a temporary ramp that can be put in place on request is an option; but temporary ramps need to be temporary solutions.

A temporary ramp works around the physical barrier, but it retains a level of segregation. 

Anyone who wants to use it has to ask for assistance, just to get in. It casts us as Oliver Twist, the street urchin, pleading “Please, Sir, can I come in?” 

A temporary ramp (or any access equipment that staff need to operate) means finding a staff member to ask for access that other people have immediately. It adds a layer of difficulty and takes longer.

If the ramp is needed at a time when a venue is short staffed or busy, that’s going to delay things even further.

2: The way is ahead but there’s a challenge to overcome

Getting into a venue isn’t supposed to be a test of ingenuity, like trying to get over the bridge of a hungry troll to eat the sweet green grass on the other side.

A sign at a non-accessi

ble entrance pointing to the accessible entrance says, “welcome”. 

The welcome evaporates when the accessible door locked and there’s no phone number on it to call to get it opened. That might be compliance with the building code but it’s not hospitality. 

No thought has been given to how people can use the accessible entrance. 

Other examples include:

• the newly built cafe that has a flat entrance and furniture concreted into the floor.   It looks great but means a wheelchair user can’t come any further than the front door.
• the wide aisles in a shop that are crammed with temporary fixtures and stacked up stock
• the ramp entrance that would allow entry if the door was open and not blocked with furniture

What if the wheelchair user makes it into the venue and needs to use the toilet?  It could be a show -stopping dance across the room, asking half the audience to move.

Hopefully, there’s enough room inside to move around as needed; not cluttered because it’s being used as an extra store room. 

Fingers crossed it’s not locked; needing a staff member to come and provide access. 

If everything is perfect, it’s fully equipped with soap or towels; not left un-serviced because, “we never get wheelchair users in here”.

How to open the way:

Unlock the doors that  don’t need to be kept locked.

Make sure that any access door that must be locked has information on it about who to contact for access and how to do it.

Unblock the entrances, the aisles, and the access ramps.

Keep the disability access toilet clean, serviced and free of clutter.

Keep the supplies in the storeroom, not the bathroom. 

Make sure all the staff are working together to keep things accessible, regardless of how many wheelchair users are present.

Offer information to people who might need it. 

3. You have to know the secret knock

“But of course we’re accessible!”

Since May, 2011, Australia’s had Premises Standards which require all new buildings (other than private dwellings) to meet disability access standards.  Any renovations to new parts of existing buildings also need to comply. 

Access is gradually improving as a result, but it’s too often kept quiet. 

We need to build a culture of actively welcoming disabled people. 

Even though access is improving, it’s still rare for businesses to advertise it. 

It’s easy to spend half an hour or more trying to find out whether the place you want to go to has the access you need.  When you have to do that every time you go to a new place, it adds up fast. 

It’s going to be a long time before all buildings are accessible.  It’s important information.

How to draw people in

Access in Australia remains hugely variable. 

The accessible places we have need to put out the welcome mat so that disabled people know where we can go with confidence. 

Access information needs to be easy to find on a webpage and a Facebook page. 

Use pictures!   

When a group is planning an event, and one person has access needs, it can be a deal breaker for the whole group.

A lot of businesses welcome LGBTIQA+ folk with rainbow flags.  That’s great! 

Welcome disabled people, too. 

If a welcome is actively extended to disabled folk, we’re likely to turn up and make use of the accessible facilities a little more often!

4. The hidden trapdoors of incomplete information

I’ve seen a website advertise “lift access” but fail to mention the stairs you have to go up to get to the lift. 

I’ve asked direct questions about access and arrived to find stairs that had been forgotten by those I spoke to. 

I’ve been unable to enter venues because they’re accessible to wheelchairs; as long as they’re manual and can tip up over the step. 

It’s easy for a highly anticipated night out to turn into a gut punch of disappointment.

How to unlock the mystery

Access information that is provided needs to be accurate. 

Provide photos and a contact for more information. 

Walk the route, thinking specifically about the experience of people with access needs. 

Chat to disabled people who do make it in and ask them for feedback. 

Ask the local council for any support they might be able to offer.

5. Pigs fly and disabled people have social lives

I once got into a lift at the cinema. 

The older man next to me told me I was doing well to be out and about on my own. 

He meant to be kind, but it was clearly beyond his expectations for a wheelchair user to do anything at all without a carer in tow– like get into a lift. 

He wasn’t expecting to see someone like me sharing his social space, having a life, like an able-bodied person. 

He’s not alone.  That attitude needs to change. 

About 18% of Australians have a disability and about 1 in 7 disabled folk use a mobility aid such as a wheelchair or walking stick.  That’s a significant number of people. 

Like all humans, we are social beings.  Some of us travel with support crew.  Many of us don’t. 

We like to go to pubs and restaurants, concerts, theatre and the cinema, just like everyone else. 

A lot of us work, too. 

We do show up and we’ll show up more often if we are actively welcomed, rather than being greeted with surprise.

How to expect the unexpected

Ok, so pigs don’t fly, but 18% of Australia’s population are disabled people – even though it’s not always obvious. 

50 years or more ago, we might have been kept at home or shoved in institutions and forgotten but that’s not the standard response now. 

Expect to see us sometimes – with or without support crew.

Disability might not be an experience common to all humans, but it is a normal part of the life of humanity. 

Work on the assumption that we are part of your community.

You could make us as happy as a pig in mud!

None of these tips require huge effort to act on. 

They don’t require major renovations – to premises or ideas. 

Mostly they’re just about caring and putting that care into action. 

They’re small changes that could make a massive difference to the welcome disabled people experience when we’re out and about. 

They could take a lot of the load off disabled people and our supporters. 

They could help to normalise disability inclusion. 

If you run a business, they could bring you more customers. 

We’ll have a community where people aren’t shut out. 

Follow the Yellow Brick Road!

I’d love to hear about the barriers you might have encountered and your tips for dealing with them.  Let me know in the comments below.

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