Why Do Disabled People Have to Fight to Access Accessibility?

Accessibility.

Almost everyone will know that word and will know what accessibility, also known as gainful access, means.

But not many people have had to realise just how incredibly difficult and draining it often is to actually access accessibility.

Accessibility is not something that naturally occurs. In fact, I can count on one hand the number of times accessibility has been a given rather than something I have had to seek out. Something I have fought tirelessly to obtain.

If you're not disabled, or you don't know someone who is, the idea of needing access to reasonable adjustments is likely to be entirely foreign to you. Many people are completely unaware of what reasonable adjustments should be expected, or even what a reasonable adjustment is!

When you're a disabled person, though, knowing the ins and outs of accessibility, how to access those measures, what is classified as a reasonable adjustment, and so on, is something you have no choice but to be acutely aware of.

It's the complete opposite for non-disabled people. Failure to plan ahead or put accessibility measures in place beforehand could put disabled people and their safety at risk.

The danger to ourselves seldom comes from a lack of personal preparation, but rather from the fact that corporations, venues and other external factors make accessing these accommodations so incredibly difficult.

The fact of the matter is that many people, disabled or not, prefer to have a thought-out plan for when they head out, whether that's on holiday, to the theatre or to a concert. However, the important distinction is that, for non-disabled people, it is a choice, not a necessity. For us, for the disabled community, it is not.

For example, before I go anywhere, I have to make sure there are wheelchair-accessible entrances and seating, and sometimes check whether there's a hearing induction loop that I can connect my hearing aid to.

Someone I spoke to, who wishes to remain anonymous, told me about attempting to book accessible tickets for a gig. Except, as per usual, it wasn't straightforward. They were expected to book standard tickets, apply for a one-off accessibility card for the venue and, only then, would they be granted access to the accessibility measures at the concert.

Accessibility measures are never set in stone. You can arrive at a venue and find something entirely different from what is listed on the website. Sometimes, the reality can even differ from what the people working there have directly told you.

Accessibility failures can be found everywhere, even in the places you would least expect them. These are failures that many people would likely never notice, particularly with the highly noticeable improvements in accessibility measures and the growing number of places that consider themselves 'accessible' but, in reality, are not.

I spoke to several members of the disabled community to hear about their experiences, both good and bad, where accessibility is concerned. Perhaps the saddest thing about the responses I received is that I wasn't surprised by the overwhelming majority of them.

Several people spoke about how even pavements and kerbs can be inaccessible. Others said they struggle to find and use accessible toilets, even when they are clearly marked as 'accessible', both in person and online. People also highlighted how difficult it can be to access hospitals.

But unfortunately, it doesn't stop there.

More people spoke about how difficult, and sometimes even degrading, it can feel to have accessibility arrangements put in place when attending a larger event, such as a concert.

Accessing those measures isn't as simple as sending an email and being approved. No, you have to prove your disability, sometimes even your need for a carer.

You're expected to have an access card, which requires you to fill out form after form just to receive it. That process, in and of itself, can be inaccessible. On top of that, there is always the possibility that your request will be denied.

What people fail to recognise and understand is that nowhere is naturally accessible. Every tiny scrap of accessibility has had to be fought tirelessly for, whether by disabled people today or by those who came before us, sacrificing their own time, energy and, at times, safety to improve the lives and safety of those who would come after them.

It gets to a point where giving up, or not trying at all in the first place, can feel like the best option. After all, no one should have to go through this much effort or expend so much energy just to access measures recognised in legislation that were put in place to make life a little easier to navigate.

But what actually makes accessing these measures so difficult? Why is every aspect of life so often inaccessible? What hoops do disabled people have to jump through? Why do disabled people have to decide whether the exhausting process of gaining access is even worth it in the first place?

There are so few plans and accommodations in place overall, yet the ones that do exist can be so difficult to access. They are time-consuming, energy-draining and, ironically, often inaccessible themselves.

Did you know that a reported 93% of live event attendees encounter barriers and experience inaccessibility at these events?

Not all of those people will be disabled, either. If people outside the disabled community spoke up about these issues, it could make a significant difference.

Because when disabled people hit a wall trying to access crucial accessibility measures, it shouldn't be down to them, and only them, to fix the problems at hand.

They shouldn't have to make complaint after complaint, only for their voices to go unheard.

What makes the situation even more inaccessible is the way disabled people are expected to enquire about accessibility measures, as well as report failures when those measures aren't provided.

It's never straightforward, nor is it simple by any means. Every aspect of the process comes with another layer of inaccessibility, unrecognised privilege and, at times, a failure to provide fair access.

In many places and at many events, if you want to enquire about access arrangements, you're expected to contact people weeks before you need those measures to be in place.

You're often passed from person to person, with very few people knowing what is and isn't accessible.

But it shouldn't be down to disabled people themselves to work tirelessly to find a way to make attending these events feasible.

Emails, phone calls, text messages and face-to-face conversations. None of it screams accessible, does it?

That became increasingly clear after the conversations I was lucky enough to have with so many people, each of whom had their own grievances and difficulties with accessibility. Whether it was the lack of accessible, barrier-free design or having to bend over backwards just to be heard, their experiences highlighted the same problem: accessibility measures should not be this difficult to put into practice.

Speaking to these wonderful, insightful people only reaffirmed my strongest belief in one thing: almost nothing at all is built or created with disabled people in mind.

If it were, I firmly believe it would benefit everyone, whether disabled or not.

The fact of the matter is that we shouldn't have to move heaven and earth to safely access places and enjoy ourselves. We shouldn't have to fill out form after form, send email after email and make phone call after phone call just to enjoy life in the same way that non-disabled people do.

We, the disabled community, have done our part. It's time for the people in charge to do theirs.

No one should ever have to work this hard.


Written by Bee Jenkins

OpinionJessica Blackwell