Welcome back to my short series on inaccessibility in the lives of disabled people. Part one (refer to Issue 9) focused on the physical aspect of (in)accessibility, including buildings, transit, and fashion. This installment will build on the previous one, and outline some of the ways that physical (in)accessibility impacts the social lives of disabled people. I will also highlight some of the key social and interpersonal issues disabled people face from other people.
To reiterate my warning from last week, the topics covered in this series can be disturbing, but these are the lived experiences of millions of people every day.
Social (In)accessibility
How the Physical Shapes the Social
One of the key takeaways from my article about physical access is that many places are not truly accessible to disabled people. Bars, restaurants, event venues, and even the routes to get to these places. And even if the places are technically accessible, many times it is difficult and time-consuming to navigate them. This can make going out socially a chore for both the disabled person and for the people they are going out with.
One of the trends in restaurants recently that irks me to no end is the increase in high-top seating. Getting into higher seating like that is difficult for many disabled people (and even people who are short), so it is something we have to consider when making plans. Which restaurants/bars can we go to? Did the person making the reservation make sure to note that we need regular table or booth seating? The pervasiveness of high-top seating is an implicit message to disabled people that we are not welcome in these spaces. This limitation impacts outing with friends, romantic dates, work gatherings, and even times we just want to go out by ourselves.
Physical inaccessibility also prevents us from accessing social events. Inaccessible venues have prevented folks from attending concerts, protests, seminars, etc. Even if venues are accessible, it is typically to the bare minimum, with disabled people relegated to the back of the space or elsewhere physically on the margins.
In my first installment, I also noted how buildings which are accessible are often confusing and/or require disabled folks to navigate convoluted paths to find key locations. This means that, when we are going out with people, they then have to navigate that with us. Whether they traverse the path with us the whole way, or whether they go ahead to meet us somewhere, the navigation wastes precious time that could be spent actually socializing. I used the Art Institute as an example of this phenomenon in my first installment, and I will continue with it here. I went to the Art Institute with my father on September 11 for Illinois Tech’s Museum Night and we ended up leaving earlier than planned simply because we could not figure out how to get places and my disabled body was exhausted. I am very lucky that my dad is super understanding, but not everyone is, and there are plenty of people who would express frustration and impatience and make the disabled person feel even worse.
Impatience and Indecency
The impatience I just described is a common issue that disabled people deal with. We are seen as burdens, as wastes of space, and as something to accommodate, not as people who just want to exist in the world. People do not like to move for us even if we can’t really move out of the way ourselves, we are met with annoyance when we ask for help or accommodations, and many many disabled people are forced to deal with being treated as a spectacle. The bottom line, in my opinion, is that so many abled people view us as an inconvenience and, thus, treat us without basic manners. It is indecent.
The place where I have experienced this the most has been on the CTA. I will get on the bus with my walker and, if the handicap section is full, no one moves! It’s as if folks’ brains turn off when they see me come on the bus, and people just refuse to move even if I verbalize my need. One of the reasons I believe people do this to me is because I am young and folks may believe I am faking it (which is crazy because why would I fake something when it’s wholly inconvenient?). Older people especially seem hesitant to move for me, even if they do not have mobility devices. I have even had folks cut in front of me to get on the bus or train and sit in the handicap section. Talk about passive-aggressive.
Again, I find this indecent, rude behavior. If your first instinct when you see a disabled person is not to move out of the way, then you are in the wrong. Full stop. Before I began using mobility devices, back when I could stand on the bus or train without issue, I would move out of the way and help set the space up for folks in wheelchairs. This isn’t a flex or a brag, this is just basic decency. Even now, I am still more mobile than folks in wheelchairs, so I will still move as much as I can and help collapse the benches for folks in wheelchairs. It’s just basic decency.
It’s especially annoying when my walker bumps into people and they get annoyed with me, but they literally are the ones who refused to move out of my way. Like, come on!
Fatigue… Always the Fatigue…
Another reason why social life is so inaccessible to disabled people is because it’s just exhausting to go out and do even simple things. Regular social activities such as going to bars, going to clubs, going to parties, and even going to a restaurant can take a lot out of someone with a disability, often leaving us unable to do anything else for the rest of the day or for a few days after. It’s hard to impossible to have spontaneity, as many disabled people have to carefully map out their days and their activities to make sure that they do not overexert themselves.
When all your friends are abled, this can really suck. Having to say no to outings and watch them go out while you stay at home is really isolating. I am really lucky that my friends are so understanding, and that I live with some of my closest friends, but this inability to go out and do something has put strain on many friendships and romantic relationships of disabled people.
The fatigue is a big reason why disabled folks like to play video games socially and use social media to connect, something I believe even abled people found comfort in during Covid lockdown. Animal Crossing and Minecraft were my refuge back then.
Even with careful planning, though, the logistics of going out and doing things is enough to leave us fatigued. Going on transit, walking to the venue, dealing with inaccessible architecture, all of these are things which make getting out and having fun a difficult thing to do.
Outcomes of Social Inaccessibility
As we all probably experienced during the pandemic, being unable to go out with friends can be isolating and depressing. While most folks were able to go back to “normal” after lockdown, many disabled people were unable to, as disability tends to come hand-in-hand with immune system problems. Covid hasn’t gone away, but the general public acts like it has, making it unsafe for many immunocompromised individuals to go out. What was a temporary issue for most, is a permanent issue for others.
The lack of concern about Covid in the wake of the lockdown has led to disabled people feeling even more socially isolated than before, and there seems to be no end in sight, especially with the resurgence of eugenics within the government. The social shapes the systemic, and the system shapes social life.
Next week, we will dive into the systemic issues facing disabled people, as well as what can be done to solve them.