Most of what we work on here at Evinced is to help companies ready their websites and mobile apps for people using assistive technologies like screen readers, keyboards, and voice control software.
Putting aside the fact that a computer is fundamentally an “assistive technology” in the first place, the thing to notice is that most of these users are often easy to identify at a glance. Folks who are blind, for example, are at least for sighted people, easy to identify across a room or a conference floor. They’re usually the ones with the sweet dogs!
But not all disabilities are visible in this way.
There are many, but dyslexia, ADHD, Cerebral Palsy (“CP”), and low vision all have very real accessibility implications, both in the digital world and in the physical world. And we’ve had some experiences recently that floored us, and we thought we’d share them here.
Disabled enough?
The mother of one of our Evinced teammates has spastic cerebral palsy. Our teammate told us about the many exchanges her mom has had with people illegally parked in accessible parking spots.
Often marked with a blue wheelchair icon, accessible parking spots became prominent in the early 1990s with the passage of the Americans with Disabilities Act.
But the law didn’t (and still doesn’t) always stop people from parking illegally in those spots.
The mother didn’t let it go then, and she doesn’t let it go now.
Back in the ‘90s, she would plant a hand firmly on our teammate’s shoulder for balance and support, and approach, saying with a sunny smile, “Hello, I think you forgot to hang your blue parking placard.”
Sometimes the driver had forgotten to display their placard and the mom’s nudge was a helpful reminder.
But far more frequently, the car was parked illegally, and instead of doing the right thing, the driver brushed her off, often saying something breezy, like “Oh, I’ll just be a minute” or “I’m just running in quickly.”
This was not the answer the mom was looking for. She’d typically respond, “I’d love to be able to run in, but my legs won’t let me, which is why I get to park here and you don’t.”
For all the times it happened – and there were many – our teammate doesn’t remember any of the drivers actually moving. Usually, they would say something dismissive, such as “You look fine to me” or “You walked over here, didn’t you?”
CP is not always a predictable disability. Some people will need mobility aids all the time, and some will only need them some of the time. We get that people are in a hurry and parking lots are often very aggravating places. But we’d hope that people would realize that if someone else is displaying a disabled parking placard, that’s all the proof you need to do the right thing.
Not hidden – but invisible all the same
Sometimes, the effects of a disability are visible, in the way we have outlined, but they aren’t comprehensible, which can amount to the same thing. And that leads to misunderstandings, at best.
We were talking to a performing artist recently who recalled that a hotel manager refused to allow the artist to check into the hotel, even though the artist had a perfectly valid reservation.
The reason? Because the hotel manager thought the artist was drunk.
Except he wasn’t. Our performer friend also has spastic cerebral palsy. While he walks unassisted – there’s no cane or walker to signal that he has a disability – our friend’s movements and gait pattern can be jerky, and sometimes it can take him a little time to get words out clearly.
If you know something about CP, you know how to interpret that behavior. But we’d wager that the typical hotel manager, particularly in a small town, has never met anybody with spastic CP.
So, it’s not that his disability is “hidden,” but the hotel manager couldn’t or wouldn’t see beyond their idea of an acceptable or correct way to walk. Instead, they read our friend’s motions as drunk and disorderly. They thought the artist was drunk, or dangerous, or both, and simply wouldn’t listen when the artist tried to explain.
This is a professional we’re talking about, here. An artist who tours the globe and does over 200 shows a year. Hotels are his second home. But a second home that sometimes kicks you out.
Could disability awareness have rendered the entire exchange moot? We like to think so.
Even if it’s not feasible to know every trait of every disability, we can always rely on curiosity and empathy. The entire mess could have been avoided if the hotel manager checked their prejudice and did maybe the most important human thing there is: listen.
Not uncommon
Stories about the lack of awareness around disabilities are more common than many of us would like to think.
- Companies are requiring staff to return to the office, even though disabled employees thrive more when working from home.
- Sports and entertainment venues are set up to support people with visible disabilities, but fall short of accommodating people with hidden disabilities.
- Parking lot attendants don’t know the state laws about accessible parking and end up harassing wheelchair users.
At Evinced we are working on one small end of these problems, but it’s not enough. These stories remind us how critical it is to seek out advice, expertise, and knowledge from people with disabilities. And also to practice some common courtesy, even if it isn’t always common.