This is the first of a series of articles that study how the architectural, graphic, and service design of something perpetuates structural inequality and oppression. I’m calling this exclusionary design, the opposite of inclusive design.
For reference, inclusive design is a methodology that enables and draws on the full range of human diversity (Microsoft Design). Other similar concepts include universal design and accessibility. They all mean basically the same thing: recognize that everyone has different needs, and create accordingly.
In order to be better inclusive designers (and creators and strategic thinkers overall) I believe that it’s important to study what NOT to do. I’m starting with bathrooms because they have a huge history of being segregated spaces that benefit those in power and prevent marginalized groups from participating in public space. These are the people and contexts we will be looking at:
- Women (specifically Victorian era)
- Black people (specifically Jim Crow era)
- Transgender people
- Disabled people
Victorian era — excluding women
When looking into the origins of binary gendered bathrooms, I found a lot of articles that point to this fascinating development in Victorian architecture where separate areas for women were created in nearly every aspect of life. The patriarchal notion of “separate spheres” designated domestic life and private homes as the natural place for women and discouraged them from entering public life as it was the space for men. So during the Victorian era when women began working more and spending time in public life, separate spaces popped up everywhere — ladies’ reading rooms in libraries, separate entrances in post offices and banks, even their own cars on trains. This article pretty much sums it up.
The ladies’ entrance is usually the secondary or side door, as opposed to the main entrance where the general public (i.e. men). This does not feel that different from some buildings I encounter where the main entrance looks grandiose and welcoming, and a smaller wheelchair accessible entrance is off to the side. It makes me wonder, if this were a theater or a museum for example, how this could disrupt the experience of a party of people going to an event, only to be separated at the beginning.
Personally, I find this level of segregation in public space unnecessary. In fact, historians view designated female spaces in the Victorian era as a reflection of the social anxiety around an increasing number of working women. But I also recognize the need for safety in certain spaces. In Japan, subway trains have offered women’s only cars in various cities since 1912 to protect them against sexual harassment, which remains a prevalent problem today. (Japan Experience)
However, before women had separate facilities they had pretty much nothing. Victorian bathrooms were very extremely fancy and sanitary engineering was a highly regarded science, resulting in the most elegant urinals I’ve ever seen. (Looking online I’ve only been able to find photos of urinals and literally no Victorian women’s bathrooms so I have no idea what they look like).
It was considered an “abomination and insult to decency for women to be provided with public toilets” so fighting for the right to have public toilets was actually a major part of the Suffragette Movement (Inclusive Urban Design: Public Toilets). They considered this as important as the vote, which makes sense — if you can’t relieve yourself while you’re out it becomes almost impossible travel, keep a job, go to events, and in general participate in public life. Early railway stations would provide plenty of urinals but no designated women’s bathroom, and if they did the facilities would be smaller and further discriminate by class (first class ladies, and second and third class women).
Jim Crow era — excluding black folks and people of color
The way in which Victorian women’s freedom and movement were restricted reminds me of Jim Crow segregation. The design of these spaces is particularly interesting because designated colored areas were shitty as fuck. The blatant movement of resources toward white folks was astonishingly clear in the design and engineering of architectural structures and public spaces. Take these water fountains: everything in the form language, materials, and size is communicating the superiority of the “white” fountain over the “colored.”
This bathroom design is interesting (I don’t know if this was the norm or if this was a particular case) but it’s providing a men’s room and ladies’ room for white folks while providing only one “colored” room. Now, I’m not discounting that trans people at the time probably found this very disheartening. But considering that the majority of people are cisgender, an insult to anyone’s gender is demeaning, and having clearly defined binary gender is culturally an indication of someone’s humanness, this design was an intentionally dehumanizing move against black folks. Making men feel less like men and making women feel less like women.
Also, the Jim Crow era provided an abundance of ugly graphic design motifs. Seriously, the most hideous signs I’ve ever seen. (I never claimed this was an unbiased article, I can do whatever I want.)
Similar to the Victorian era: water fountains, bathrooms, theaters, waiting areas, train cars. To me, schools were probably the most notable form of segregation because it was a blatant move to prevent social mobility through quality education or should I say fuck people over (I have a lot of rage). White schools received more funding while black schools had secondhand textbooks, were too small, had a huge student to teacher ratio, and sometimes could not be funded at all because if a town only had enough resources for one school, they would build a white school (ABH Museum).
Something to think about in what we’ve seen so far: infrastructure takes a long time to change. Today we can switch our phones out for a new model every year, but things like public bathrooms and schools would take years to build and would remain for years until the proper budget called for a change. So what does that say about the lingering effects of misogyny and racism from these architectural spaces?
This article compares the language around Jim Crow segregation and the North Carolina law (House Bill 2 or HB2) that requires people to use the bathroom corresponding to the gender they were assigned at birth. More on trans bathrooms below. Interestingly, it pointed out that both laws claimed safety as a reason for segregation. Specifically during Jim Crow, they claimed separate facilities would keep white folks safe from people of color, specifically white women safe from black men. And unfortunately, demonizing black men and men of color in this manner has continued today.
Small note on AIDS crisis:
I’m aware that during the 80’s and 90’s when the HIV/AIDS crisis was in full swing, a lot of queer folks (specifically gay men) were banned from using public bathrooms because there were a lot of myths going around on how the disease is spread. I did not have time to research this topic much, but I’ll definitely pursue it in the future and I appreciate any resources.
Current bathroom debate — excluding trans people
Before I get into this I want to define the terminology that I’m going to use. I know that there are a lot of words that can be overwhelming and I want to make this conversation as accessible as possible. I mostly used this list from transstudent.org for reference.
Someone whose gender identity doesn’t match their gender assigned at birth is transgender (trans). People for whom their identity does match are cisgender (cis).
Dysphoria refers to the feeling of anxiety or discomfort around someone’s assigned sex, which many trans folks report feeling. This drives the decision for processes like hormone replacement therapy (HRT), top surgery, hair restoration surgery, etc. so that people feel more comfortable in their bodies. It should be noted that undergoing surgery is not a requirement for being trans.
Rather than female-to-male and male-to-female, I use transmasculine and transfeminine or trans men and trans women to better describe people as the gender they identify. This also helps us focus on who they are now, instead of who they were born as.
Passing refers to how others perceive someone’s gender, for example a transmasculine person who “passes” is someone you might think is a cis man based on his physical appearance, clothes, mannerisms, voice, etc. There’s some debate on the importance of passing, but that’s a whole other article.
Outside of the gender binary, meaning not identifying as a man or woman, there are many words to describe identity. I’m going to use GNC (gender non-conforming) as the umbrella term. These identities include but aren’t limited to nonbinary (which is me, the author!), agender, genderqueer, and genderfluid. Most people think being GNC is a recent invention but it’s actually been in various cultures throughout history, and you read more here.
OKAY. That was a lot of words. Now we can talk about bathrooms and pretty pictures.
Today, Uniform Plumbing Code mandates that “separate toilet facilities shall be provided for each sex,” resulting in men’s and women’s rooms (ICC). Bathrooms are typically single stall or multi-stall. Architecturally speaking, single stall bathrooms are comparable to residential bathrooms — they have one toilet, one sink, and sometimes a urinal and some storage. Multi-stall bathrooms are structurally different as men’s bathrooms typically have a row of urinals, fewer stalls, and no baby station and women’s bathrooms have a bunch of stalls and a baby station (I’ve been to both, if you’re curious).
The design of the universal bathroom symbol itself, created by the AIGA (American Institute of Graphic Arts) is more a symbol of gender binary than it is of bathrooms. I wonder to myself often, why didn’t they just make it a toilet? Instead you have a generic representation of a human body that we’re calling a man and a person in a dress we’re calling a woman. This represents the cultural attitude and patriarchal notion that men are the default (man-made, mankind, all men are created equal) and women are an addition with frills.
So what does this mean for trans people? Oftentimes, it leads to a lot of misgendering, dysphoria, and anxiety around going to public bathrooms. Those negative feelings are actually the everyday reality of many trans folks, only amplified when trying to figure out the bathroom situation. And especially if someone is GNC or not passing as strictly transmasculine or transfeminine, this could lead to verbal or physical assault against their person.
For example, in this instagram post nonbinary model Rain Dove talks about how they were recently pepper sprayed in the women’s bathroom by someone who thought they were a man ready to assault other patrons. Later the two found each other online and started talking. I highly recommend reading this because Rain points out a lot of poignant things, such as assessing the danger of the situation not based on someone’s gender but how they are approaching you and giving off energy.
The counter-argument against trans inclusive bathrooms implies there’s a threat of sexual assault by predators either disguised as trans people (or operating under the assumption that all trans people are predators). There are a few reasons this argument doesn’t quite hold up. This article in the Boston Globe cites a study conducted in Massachusetts that found, “reports of privacy and safety violations in public restrooms, locker rooms, and changing rooms are exceedingly rare.”
Also, statistically trans people are often more likely to be victims of assault and trauma than perpetrators. Trans women of color, especially black women, are literally being murdered in alarmingly high rates. (Pro Publica, Human Rights Campaign, USA Today) So in cases such as the North Carolina bathroom law, it’s more about the denying the existence of trans people than it is about safety. And just like the Victorian and Jim Crow bathrooms, this is a way of barring people from actively participating in public space.
Additionally, the selective presence of certain fixtures in bathrooms show some fairly outdated notions about gender. Men’s bathrooms don’t have waste receptors for menstrual products (trans men menstruate) and rarely have baby stations for changing diapers. This article in CNN talks about how the father of 3 kids has to squat on the floor and change his children’s diapers on his lap, which can be uncomfortable and fairly dangerous.
In case it isn’t abundantly clear already, I spend a ton of time thinking about bathrooms, especially since I go to a lot of queer and trans events in Chicago. Many of these events put up temporary gender-neutral bathroom signs, and this often results in people of mixed genders sharing a bathroom. I’ll be the first to admit, urinals are really awkward. I’m almost getting used to it, but I will always prefer a gender-neutral single stall. I like my privacy, and when I’m in a bathroom with urinals I can feel the awkward tension in the air, leading me to believe that other folks like their privacy too.
(By the way, there is no reason for single stall bathrooms to be separated by sex. All single stall bathrooms can and should be gender neutral.)
I believe privacy is the real concern. And if that’s the case, then the design of the multi-stall bathroom has already failed long before we started writing legislation. The stalls have huge gaps between the floors and ceilings, and the urinals have small or non-existent barriers between them that give everyone a free show. There is also no reason why things that don’t require privacy, such as hand washing and looking in the mirror, shouldn’t be shared for greater efficiency. So if we want trans inclusive bathrooms, I believe we need to redesign the entire layout of bathrooms entirely.
There is a project that has taken on this problem: Stalled. Their goal is to create a safe, sustainable, and inclusive public restroom and I have to say they’ve done a pretty good job. I’ll let you draw your own conclusions since I want to see the results of this new bathroom in action before I pass judgment, but basically they have a setup completely gender-neutral private stalls and a shared sink area, as well as a renovation plan for how to start with the current binary paradigm.
Another benefit to making bathrooms gender-neutral and trans inclusive is that they become family-friendly. Today, how does a father take his young daughter to the bathroom? And a topic of debate, how long can a mother take her son to the women’s bathroom before they find it inappropriate? Gender neutral bathrooms could help prevent families from being separated and help parents care for their children.
When we do move to this utopia of inclusive bathrooms (I’m hopeful!) what will be the appropriate bathroom signage? Personally, I’m not a fan of any of these:
I don’t think staying with the old model is the way to go, especially since I feel like the cut-and-paste pictogram on the right is saying some weird stuff about trans people. Half man, half woman? It doesn’t really represent GNC people who move away from the entire notion of gender binary either.
I am done with the “whatever, I don’t care” rhetoric, that’s not what being inclusive is actually about. I care if you’re trans, because your experience matters. And trans people aren’t mythical creatures. And (sorry to the artist) but the composition and negative space on this sign is super awkward, it’s just not working for me.
My preferred design for the inclusive bathroom would probably just be a toilet, or the trans symbol with the disability symbol (and more on the improved disability symbol below). To be accessible for people who don’t speak English as their first language and rely on the image, I’m not sure the trans symbol is the best option (as much as I love it) since they might not know what it means.
I’m nonbinary and androgynous so I find today’s rhetoric around public bathrooms constantly disheartening, and I also feel anxiety and dysphoria when going to the women’s bathroom (people mistaken me as a man all the time, and I don’t want to get pepper sprayed). But I’m also optimistic about what’s in store for the future of bathrooms and trans rights.
Pretty much since the beginning of time — excluding people with disabilities
The last group I want to talk about: the biggest minority in America, disabled people.
So I understand that many people, myself included the same time a year ago, thought that the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) solved everything when it came to access. Though that act was a great step in the right direction, bathrooms and other public spaces are far from being accessible.
I want to note that since I don’t have a physical disability I have a lot of privilege in this area, therefore I need to put in a lot of work in researching, understanding, and empathizing with physically disabled people. The work is important, and it’s worth it. But if you see something problematic that I should improve on, please point it out to me. And reader, I hope you’re also taking this approach to areas in which you have more privilege.
The medical model is the traditional belief that disabled people face unavoidable obstacles due to their medical condition, which is intrinsic to their person. Alternatively, the social model believes these obstacles are due to societal and systemic barriers that are working against the individual. (my words based on the definitions at Disability Nottinghamshire)
As inclusive designers, we are operating under the social model. That means we still have to study the prejudices and discrimination that resulted from the medical model. Throughout history, disabled people have been abandoned, ridiculed, thought to be possessed by evil spirits, the list goes on. Specifically in the 1800’s, disabled people “were considered abnormal, feeble-minded, and numerous persons were forced to undergo sterilization. People with disabilities were also forced to enter institutions and asylums, where many spent their entire lives” (ADL).
Starting in the early 1900’s many technological advancements allowed people mobility and freedom that they previously didn’t have. Products like wheelchairs, walkers, prosthetics, etc. began bringing disabled people more in public life. Their presence in architectural spaces made something very clear: these spaces were not made for them. Public transportation, grocery stores, libraries, and restaurants were all completely inaccessible. (Smithsonian)
When we talk about accessibility, I want to point out that there’s a huge diversity within disability, which means there’s a huge diversity of user needs. This article is a good explanation of different types of physical disabilities from cerebral palsy to spinal cord injury to dwarfism. For the purposes of this article and the sake of bathrooms I’m going to focus on the different user needs that physical disability creates.
Let’s break this down. First of all, people with trouble walking probably use assistive tech in the form of a wheelchair, walker, crutches, or prosthetic. And if there are any steps or stairs leading up the bathroom, that’s an immediate barrier — they can’t get in. For people with limited mobility in their hands or arms, door knobs and locks are difficult — again in some cases, they can’t get in. If they can get in but the bathroom stall is too small for their assistive tech, or if they have an assistant who can’t fit, then they can’t use it. Alternatively if the person is small then everything suddenly becomes big and out of reach — they can’t get up on the toilet seat, or they can’t reach the sink to wash their hands. If they can manage to get on the toilet seat but there are no handles or grab bars, they run the risk of falling.
So pretty much, bathrooms are a disaster for disabled folks. The ADA details a number of architectural requirements and dimensions that you can read about here. Requirements for larger stalls, height of sinks, installation of grab bars, etc. do create a more accessible space. But we should consider that not all buildings are accessible, and even if the entrance is accessible that’s not a guarantee that the bathrooms are. When venues advertise events, they don’t always post accessibility information so the ability to participate in public life is a constant question for disabled folks.
The changes that the ADA has made to bathrooms also doesn’t necessarily guarantee accessibility. There are various stories of people who still have trouble using “accessible” bathrooms. This is a story about someone who’s a quadriplegic and encounters many barriers that include heavy doors, not enough grab bars, and insufficient maintenance. And this is another story about how dehumanizing bathrooms can be; this person has a genetic bone growth disorder that puts her at 3’ 5” (105.5 cm) so nearly everything is out of reach. And this is another story of a wheelchair user who experiences intense anxiety around public bathrooms because of how poorly designed they are. As it turns out, the ADA offers a lot of shortcuts and businesses are willing to take them in favor of cutting costs.
To finish this section on an optimistic note, on my trip to London I witnessed some of the best accessible bathrooms I’ve ever seen. Granted these were mostly in fancy office buildings so there was still the distinction of class and wealth there, but these were truly a great example. They included low sinks, plenty of grab bars, a wide space, large push buttons for flushing, and a small cushion to rest one’s back when sitting on the toilet.
Coincidentally, I also noticed ASL interpreters on live television for the first time in London, and I heard the UK government website is great in terms of accessibility. So perhaps we can all learn from this.
An additional cool design motif that I think deserves attention, the design of a new disability icon that came out of a grassroots design movement. The Accessible Icon project took the passive wheelchair icon and turned it into a fiery, active wheelchair user looking like they’re competing in a marathon. The project involved designers and disability advocates working side by side in what started as graffiti on public signage, and now the icon is being used all over the world. While I recognize that iconography isn’t a replacement for actual accessibility, I also believe that iconography has an enormous influence in our beliefs. And as a society, we should believe that disabled people have every right to access and participate and daily life.
Conclusion
I want to be very clear about something: my weird obsession with public bathrooms isn’t really about bathrooms. It’s about access to public space, it’s about who we accept as participants in public life. The segregation noted above is the same story every time: these people are not important. We don’t care about their needs and we don’t want them in public space. I hope we recognize that every time we make something that is intended to be used by everyone, we are making a statement. And the statements I hope we make are:
Women’s Rights are Human Rights
Black Lives Matter
Trans is Beautiful
Nothing About Us Without Us
Thanks for reading. This is the first of a series that I’m working on about exclusionary design. If you have any suggestions for what to write about, feel free to comment or tweet at me @thetuttingtutor.
