New York I love you, but you’re bringing me down.
In a yellow cab, somewhere between Queens and Manhattan, we sat in traffic. As we vagued out in the Queens-Midtown tunnel an advertisement played on the screen between us; A young person walked towards a public bathroom with their friends. When they got to the door of the women’s bathroom they paused, unsure of what to do next. Their friends reassured them and welcomed them into the bathroom. This advertisement was creating awareness around non-binary bathrooms. It shocked and excited me. This was inclusion at it’s best and on a screen in a cab in one of the biggest cities in the world! I had high hopes for this visit to the Big Apple.
This trip was slightly different to our last, this was our first visit to NYC with my wheelchair. Travelling with my wheelchair is not a new thing for my husband, Scott and I. We travel a lot. We do our research on accessibility but are not deterred by the lack of it.
On our first day, we found ourselves on Bleecker Street for a spot of shopping. We navigated the sidewalk, tree roots, inconsistent ramp access and all, to the stores that were accessible from street level. There were only two that I could access without running into an oversized planter or oddly shaped table. Several other stores had stickers on their windows identifying that they had an accessible entry option. We decided to give one a try.
We waited at the single step entry for assistance. The person inside gave us a wave and continued what they were doing. When we gestured towards the sticker on the front window they came out to inspect. The confusion on their face reviled that they had not been trained for this moment. There was a doorbell below the sticker, they pushed it and waited, waiting for a magical elevator or ramp to appear. We heard a singsong noise from behind the counter, this confirmed the obvious, that the doorbell was not an advanced accessibility tool but just a way to ask someone for help. They shrugged their shoulders and said “sorry”.
At Chelsea Market, I needed to go to the bathroom. A helpful stranger tried their hardest to fit both me and my wheelchair in the one “accessible” cubical in the women’s bathroom, to no avail.
We found a restaurant for lunch. Other than a lip at the front door and the surprised expressions on the faces of the staff, the restaurant seemed accessible. After our meal I asked a staff member where the bathroom was, they pointed down three stairs. On our way out, that staff member apologised for the lack of accessibility and explained that the space was only newly renovated and the staff were shocked to see stairs in place of a ramp when they returned to work after the revamp.
The following day, after helping load my wheelchair into their car, an Uber driver complained about paying $90 to take part in a compulsory accessibility course before they could become a licensed taxi driver in NYC. One thing that stood out to me while they were telling their story was that the course that they took; the course that exists to teach taxi drivers how to safely, efficiently and hopefully respectfully assist people in getting in and out of a vehicle, must be broken. If someone goes through an accessibility course and doesn’t come out with respect and understanding of why it is needed, the course is broken.
The inhabitants of New York are not used to seeing disabled people navigating their world. People wear elaborate outfits, sing at the top of their lungs while walking down the street, windows and storefronts are draped in rainbow flags, the city is brimming with acceptance and inclusion but when a person with a visible impairment walks or wheels past, so many people stop in their tracks. It isn’t their fault. These New Yorkers are deprived of experiencing and accepting us because we physically can’t access the areas that they utilise every day.
It’s wonderfully exciting that a person who has experienced gender transition can confidently go to a public bathroom. It’s bizarre that the disabled community cannot. Universal design and universal thinking is something that is going to help us get NYC and the rest of the world up to speed with disability inclusion.
If you are building a house, renovating a commercial property or opening a retail space take a moment to think about universal design and accessibility. Retail stores and cafes are places that people go to escape their troubles, we connect with friends or buy something pretty and our worries melt away, we need to make these experiences available to everyone. Think about where a rug is placed or the size of a display table.
Ramps, wider doorways, lightweight doors, lowered benches, handrails in the bathroom, clear signage/braille, portable pay stations and portable ramps are just a few things to think about. A great way to test your environment is to ask a member of the disabled community to come and try your space out…I’m always available!
