Current mood:	determined
Current music:	Cry Cry Cry - Speaking With the Angel
Entry tags:	ada, anniversary, disability, soapbox

"I am with you. I love you. Lead on."
[Cross-posted from my journal. It's a bit U.S.-centric, and I apologize. I'd love to hear about other countries' laws as well].

The above are the last words of one Justin Dart, Jr., hailed within the disability community as the "father of the ADA" and the "godfather of the disability rights movement", as one obituary put it. I won't presume to speak for my fellow gimpyfolk, but in this movement, saying, "Justin Dart said..." is sort of like saying, "Jesus Christ said...". *heh*

Today is the 15th anniversary of the signing of the Americans with Disabilities Act. Now, some of you may know this story already, but in the summer of 1990, I was 16 years old and starting a new job. I almost didn't get that job. I applied for it two or three months before the law was signed; I was going to be a camp counselor at the same day camp I'd attended as a child. I was good with kids, had worked as a teacher's aide for years at my temple's Sunday school, was a Red Cross certified babysitter, had plenty of references, all that bullshit. I interviewed well, and the interviewer came right out and told me how impressed she was with me. I was completely honest about my visual impairment, but confident in my ability to do the job, and very clear about what kinds of accommodations I might need. The interviewer told me at the end of the interview that she would otherwise have offered me a job right away, but that she found my visual impairment "disconcerting". (I ran right home and looked that one up). When I finally got a call offering me that job, it was after - and possibly because - she had quit. I got perfect evaluations three years in a row. But I would have had no rights in that situation, not at that time. And believe me, plenty of people out there think blinks can't take care of kids, or shouldn't have them. Witness the problems that a blind couple is currently having trying to open up a day care center.

The first law giving me the right to an equal education was passed the year I was born. I never went to school without that protection, and I am grateful to those who came before me who made that possible.

Let me tell you a little bit about what my life would be like without the ADA. Bear in mind that I am white, upper-middle class, and was raised to self-advocate, and so my chances of experiencing discrimination are far lower than those of most people with disabilities. I was educated in one of the best school systems in the country for blind children. I went to college out of state. Hell, I didn't even realize how different my experience was until I went to college. In fact, I didn't identify as a person with a disability until then.

Restaurants, doctor's offices, and stores would be off-limits to me if I wanted to travel with my guide dog. I might be in a heap of legal trouble, being unable to read most contracts and leases I'd signed, as no one would be under any obligation to read them to me or provide them in alternate formats. Had I not gone into the field of disability, I might find it impossible to get a job, although unlike many of my compatriots, I'd at least be able to get to one some of the time. Voting would be a public and dependent act. In fact, civic participation of any kind would be a real struggle. I would be unable to patronize a number of businesses because I would not be able to receive any assistance in figuring out what products or services they provided. Museums and the arts would be extremely incomplete experiences for me. Etc., etc. And I'm not even deaf or mobility impaired - there are many, many other effects that the ADA has had on those populations. Hell, I'm not even totally blind.

(I did not include anything involving education in the above examples, because most educational institutions receive federal funding, and the laws pertaining to recipients of such funding have been around since...well, since I have. Housing is also covered under a different law).

I am not going to try to tell you that the ADA is perfect, that it meets all of our needs, or that it is as strong now as it was 15 years ago. I believe earnestly that unless this country fights for this law, it will die. For those of you who do not have a disability, this is also your law. If you are ever perceived as having a disability, and treated badly as a result, this law covers you. If you intend to get old before you die, this law is your protection, because anyone who lives long enough WILL develop a disability. One in six people in this country has a disability, and that number is rising. This is a good thing; this means we're living and not dying. You may feel that I am being melodramatic, but without this law, people will die. This law provides for access to health care, groceries, and basic communication. This law means that a deaf person can reach 911. It means that a woman using a wheelchair has a hope in hell of having breast or cervical cancer diagnosed in time to save her life. (We're working on that, but we at least have the legal basis for it). It means that when you're 70, you won't be confined to your house. At least ideally, that's what it means. The movement is, as always, a work in progress.

Yesterday, my employer posted a number of agreements with various communities to make their programs and services more accessible to people with disabilities. Included among them were Tucson, AZ (remember Mystery City? It even includes entire attachments on buildings I surveyed!); Prince George's County, MD (hi, locals!); Providence, RI; and Miami, FL. We also put up a free online tutorial for businesses to teach them about their obligations under the ADA. If you're interested, it's all on our web site.

Lead on, the man said. In South Africa, they say, "Nothing about us without us." And here we are. We've done a lot of work, and we've got a lot of work to do.