accessibility_fail | Recent Entries

So, tonight I went to the Blue Room Theatre in Northbridge, Perth, Western Australia, to see a young comic named John Robertson do standup comedy.

The Blue Room Theatre is, as far as I can tell, wheelchair accessible, but that's totally not the win here, because the win is that - by fluke - I went along on AUSLAN NIGHT.

This standup comedy show had, to one side of the stage, an interpreter, called Mike, who did a running sign language translation of the entire performance.

This in itself provided some incredibly funny interplay between John and Mike - it was discovered that some of the jokes are actually funnier signed, and Mike does his best to mimic the comic as closely as possible, which he did brilliantly - and generally added to the enjoyment of the evening even for audience members like me (hearing, completely ignorant of sign language, currently unable to learn it because one arm doesn't work properly), and - as it turned out in the Q&A with the performers after the show - was a truly wonderful occasion for some of the audience.

There were a couple, one hearing one deaf, who said that it was the first time they'd ever been able to go to something together and both enjoy it equally.

A young woman expressed her joy that, for the first time, she'd been able to bring her dad to a comedy event. (She noted that he has some visual impairment, as well as being deaf, and was very pleased that the part of the stage where Mike was standing was very well-lit, so her father could see him just fine.)

Out of the audience discussion, too, came some ideas that I hope will be carried out - several people from the local theatre/comedy community were there, and the idea was discussed of making a regular event, every month or two, of having (affordable) comedy nights with local comics accompanied by an interpreter, for more events that can be shared by hearing and deaf people alike.

"Would there be much interest in the deaf community, do you think?" one guy asked.

"Definitely!" Someone noted that the deaf community in Perth is small, it was pointed out that we were in a 50-seat venue, and this is something which doesn't have to be supported solely by the deaf community - after all, it's something that the hearing can enjoy too. (One woman in the audience, who's learning AUSLAN right now, pointed out that it could be really good for students of the language, too.) Some jokes are improved by it even for the hearing, and it's just an awesome, positive experience for the event to be something that can be shared.

Seriously, hearing/seeing the people who were sharing this kind of experience with a loved one for the first time ever - who could be around that kind of joy and not be moved?

So, even though it was sheer fluke that I went tonight of all nights (I only found out about the show and decided to go today, and I only got a ticket because of a late cancellation), I'm really, really glad I went on AUSLAN night, it was brilliant. More standup comedy performances need sign interpreters - it's a wonderful, wonderful addition.

Current Mood: buoyant

yarram

Sit with group of friends.
Waitperson: "Would you like a drink?"
Me: "Yes, do you have a list of your beers?"
Waitperson: *recites list of beers*
Me: *interrupts* "No, I'm deaf, do you have a written list?"
Waitperson: "Uhm, no..."
Me: "Then I've changed my mind, I won't be having anything after all."

(I'd list places, but that would get very very long.)

shonias

Recently I took the kids to Sydney Park. After playing on the bike track for some time, I convinced the boys to go to the new "All Abilities" playground. My first impression was that it was very cool. I really liked the huge slippery dips embedded in the hill. So we found another family we knew and sat down. Very, very briefly.

This photo is from the website I linked at the top. The fact that you can't see much basically sums up my first complaint. The visibility in this place is a nightmare. There are bumps and hills and children disappear in an instant. And see that really big hill with the slippery dips I liked? Behind that is a very tempting looking hill for sliding down - straight into an unfenced car park which then opens onto the Princes Highway. So not only can you not see your kids, there isn't even any chance that someone else will.

And then there is the "All Abilities" tag. I presume this refers to the kids, because while I am no expert on assessing accessibility, I am guessing that anyone with a mobility impairment would have the option of sitting on the grass opposite the playground. It is all narrow, windy paths with uneven surfaces. And then paths peter out to nothing, but kids can happily dart through the gardens to other places you can't see and can't easily reach - even on two good legs.

The boys loved it. If your kid can be relied on to stay in the designated area, it is a fantastic park. There is a raised sandpit with water to make it even more fun. There's a big range of things to do and places to explore. However, unless your idea of a fun trip to the park is always being within 8 feet of your child, I'd recommend you steer well clear of it with toddlers.

jenett

Hello! I've been reading since this created (since among other things, I have a number of people in my life who have a wide-ranging set of not-quite-standard accessibility issues, and so love to collect info on what might make things work better for them.)

I have a very good friend who has multiple disabilities. She's in her late 40s, and has got adult hearing loss, Crohn's disease, a range of medication and artificial sweetener allergies, and a hip that was badly broken at age 5, and never properly treated. (Well, until about 10 days ago, when she had a hip replacement.)

And that hip replacement involves a major fail - but also some serious wins. (I'll add that my friend's quite public about everything in here, and she knows I'm posting this.)
( Read on )

ex_rising236

So, to start with,

exor674, myself, and my friend that I was staying in Denver with went to the Denver Zoo, last Friday.

exor674 took all the pictures that I'm using in this post, except the first one which is my standard picture of my crutches taken with my cell phone, because most of the pictures include me in them and it is very hard to take pictures of myself. Alt text is simply put under the picture rather than in the code for the image.

So, I usually use crutches for mobility.

( And that's where the fail of the zoo begins. )

archersangel

first let me say that neither my brother or i are disabled & wouldn't have taken this "accessible room" but it was the only one that was available.

point 1; the door was standard width & i had trouble wheeling my wheeled duffel over the threshold, so i imagine it would be hard for someone in a wheelchair.

point 2; the room itself was small, with only about 18-20 inches between the beds. about a foot between the bed on the right and the wall for the bathroom. the bed on the left was about 2 1/2 feet from the window, but there was a big armchair by the head of the bed. there was a good deal of space from the foot of the beds to the TV & desk.

point 3; the bathroom did have a rail by the toilet, but the toilet was in an alcove between the shower & bathroom wall. there was a rail in the shower, but it was a standard bathtub. the sink wasn't a vanity, but it seemed too high for someone in a wheelchair to use & the mirror didn't go all of the way down behind it.

so other than the rails, i saw little that would make this an "accessible room."

Current Mood: cynical
Current Location: home
Current Music: bird song

trouble

I had to take Don to Emerg last night (A&E, I think, in UK & Aus). He's (relatively speaking!) okay. (You can read it here, but the key thing is that he was injured enough that we headed straight for Emerg, but not so much that we didn't walk the five or so blocks, rather than call someone to get us there.)

During construction, they've taken out parts of the sidewalk.

So, to get to Emerg, one needs to notice (in a stressful situation) that the sidewalk has been taken out, preferably before taking a wheelchair all the way to that point, which is a good... 30ish feet from where one can take a wheelchair safely off the sidewalk.

One then needs to go into the road - the road used by ambulances and cars trying to get to Emerg, so people who may either be driving quickly, or who are also very stressed - down those 30 feet, and then turn into an area we couldn't see.
( Read more... )

Slightly unrelated, but what's the state of 'terps in your area? There was no signage anywhere indicating that terp service was available, but I'm not sure if that means there isn't or not. (I'll be asking this when I call Patient Services.)

When I was working in Australia, there were strict rules about not letting a family member interpret unless it was impossible to get an interpreter wthin a certain period of time, and even then they'd be still trying to get someone not-related while they dealt with what had to be done. It's because it's a stressful situation.

aedifica

I recently made an appointment for an eye checkup, and I just got the info packet and health history questionnaire for it. Most of the stuff is in what I would consider a normal type size for that sort of thing, but one of the sheets was in a much larger font size. What that one said:

Visual Rehabilitation Services

Does your vision make it difficult to read, write, do your job, do school work, cook or clean?

If your vision cannot be improved, special services are available at the Eye Clinic to help you do these things again.

Ask your doctor or their staff at your eye appointment about Low Vision Services.

And I thought about it for a moment, and thought how neat it is that they made an extra effort to let people know about these services, both by including it in the packet and by making sure it was in a larger, easier-to-see type. Very cool!

synecdochic

Copied from the feedback I just sent on the how'd-we-do form for today's visit to the Apple Store:

Kelly's conduct and customer service was absolutely fabulous, and I don't even think she recognized the thing she did that pleased me the most, because it was clearly instinctive. I use a wheelchair for mobility, and the Annapolis store's Genius Bar is completely wheelchair-inaccessable. Not only is there no counter segment at chair-height, the counter is artificially elevated to the point where even a standing person would have difficulty if they were at all shorter than normal.

When I arrived for my appointment, Kelly took one look at me, came out from behind the Genius Bar, commandeered the nearby computer table where the kid software is out for demonstration, sat down on the chair-ball so she was at my eye level, and proceeded to take care of my repair issue: all without drawing any attention to the situation, fumbling around for the right thing to do in the situation, or making me feel like I was inconveniencing her. Most people, when confronted with a situation like that, will remain standing, looming over the person in the wheelchair and making them considerably uncomfortable. I was already considerably irked about the lack of chair-accessible counter space -- which, by the way, is *really* poor design, and I've seen many of your stores that have a chair-height counter extension that can be pulled out when required; I'm highly annoyed that Annapolis doesn't. Kelly moved right past it and found a solution that let her treat me not only like a valued customer, but as a fellow human being.

Her technical skills were great, and her solution to my repair problem was above and beyond both what I was expecting and what I had hoped for, but it was her conduct and treatment that I was most happy with. I certainly hope that someone reading this feedback can find a way to reward her for her customer service and people skills.

The reason for my poor rating on the final survey question has nothing to do with the service I received, and I remain not only a loyal Apple enthusiast but a passionate advocate for both your products and the technical-assistance service your Geniuses provide. I am unable to recommend the Annapolis store to friends and family members because of the complete lack of accessibility at the Genius Bar, and will continue to search for an Apple Store in the area with architecture that doesn't perpetuate ableism.

We then went into the Williams-Sonoma store (they were having a sale, okay?) The store's nice and open, but they'd put baskets and boxes on the floor, to the point where many pathways/turns were really tight (to the point of just making it) and a few were impossible. I mentioned this to one of the floor associates. Not two minutes later, the floor manager came over, apologized profusely, said that she makes it a policy to take out the measuring tape every time they rearranged things to make sure all the 'aisles' were 36" clear, and the reason things were out of sorts was because they were redoing all the displays that day because of the sale.

She promised that she'd move the ones I'd had the most trouble with immediately, and mentioned that she was really embarrassed and felt awful, because she does make it a point to fix those problems in the store; both her mother and her brother were in 'chairs and she tries to pay really close attention to accessibility details.

(We then talked about kitchen mixers for a while. *g*)

So, the spaces I encountered today were accessibility fail, but the people were pretty much a win.

sami

So, I went to the doctor's today. Same office as I went to last week, where there was a sign saying the lift (elevator) was broken and to use the stairs.

Well, first bit of fail is right there: that lift is used to get to Disability Services AND the medical centre - and, I found out today, the problem with the lift is that the rear doors aren't working... which means you need to use a different set of stairs, anyway, and you don't need to remove access to Disability Services and the Medical Centre.

Anyway, this very lift always has this:

Apparently, if you have visual or speaking/hearing difficulties, sucks to be you.

Anyway, while I was in the waiting room at the medical centre itself, I saw a woman in a wheelchair come out from the doctor's offices. I had to jump up, because the doors she was approaching look like this:

The door has no automatic opening capacity. The one on the right (in this picture) opens with the handle, and opens inwards; I'm not sure how one would handle this from a wheelchair. In any case, this wouldn't help very much, because that door on its own is too narrow for a wheelchair to go through. (Which the woman in the wheelchair pointed out as I was opening the first door, in a semi-apologetic tone; I assured her I was on it.)

So I went to open the other door, but it was sticking, because the locks had re-engaged slightly. I worked it free, opened the other door, and the woman left. (Thanking me for my assistance, and encouraging me to keep taking nice pictures - I'd been passing the time taking photos of the fish in the aquarium.)

Then, when I'd closed the doors and sat down again, one of the receptionists got up from behind the desk to make a point of putting the locking bars back in completely.

I took that after she did it. For the record, I'm 5'9" and that lock is a full upwards reach for me. It is not physically possible for a person in a wheelchair to exit the medical centre without assistance, nor to enter without banging on the door to get someone to come and let them in.

trouble

Anyone want to help me figure out why the waiting area for ultrasounds at my local hospital isn't wheelchair accessible, being too narrow?

Current Mood: curious

hilarytamar

I work in a vet clinic. It's in a converted rowhouse, and for various reasons there's a little walkway leading from the sidewalk over the bottom window well to the front door. There's a step down from the sidewalk to the walkway, and another one from the walkway up to the front door. We have no ramps. This is a cascade of fail from beginning to end.

(1) It's a vet clinic. Let's forget about the people for a minute and look at it from a purely medical point of view: we have limping dogs walking across there all the time, as well as dogs still a little unsteady on their feet after surgery. These would be the dogs whose owners we tell to keep them away from stairs that day.

(2) The former clinic owner had MS. The office already owns a portable ramp that fits quite nicely at one of the steps.

(3) It took a complaint from a client before we put it out. The client came in the other day with a dog, a stroller and a mobility impairment of some sort. After she'd wrestled the dog and the stroller through the door, she looked at me in exasperation and said, "I wish you had a ramp there". I've worked there for nearly a year and I hadn't thought about it beyond the first week.

(4) So I asked the office manager about getting a ramp, he told me about the portable one that we already owned, and he was happy to put it out the same day. That's great – but we've got two steps.

(5) So I asked about a second ramp. They're going to look into it, but the initial response was – I kid you not – "but it's that step that's the biggest". Yes, but the other one's still a step and it still needs a ramp.

I don't know what's worse, the fact that we had a ramp and didn't use it, or that someone had to ask before I realized.

trouble

This is almost directly across the street from the retirement home in Mahone Bay, NS.

[Description below photo]

[Photo shows a lovingly-made ramp up to an antique store... which starts with a significant step up, so most Chairs won't be able to get on it. A sign loving informs all that they "have things Wal-Mart doesn't have". Which I guess is true - Wal-Mart doesn't have Accessibility Fail, for the most part.]

Overall the trip was pretty good, although several other places that were "accessible" were only so if your Chair was very slender.

I find it rather pathetic that we were shocked when we went to the museum in Lunenburg and the person who explained the accessibility accomodations made in the museum spoke to Don, and not me, even though I was doing most of the Chair-pushing. (We left the electric one at home because it doesn't fit in a car.) It was like they thought Don was a real person, who could think and communicate for himself!

Current Mood: bitter

firecat

http://sabotabby.livejournal.com/643833.html

trouble

My friend is going to write up a full post at some point, but it's on my mind right now.

My friend was calling around various restaurants in Halifax to find out which ones say they're accessible. (How this differs from reality will become clear shortly.)

"The tables on our second floor are set up for wheelchair height. No, we don't have an elevator, why do you ask?"

"It's accessible once you get inside!"

*sigh*

orbitaldiamonds

( source )

Man, service dog turned away at fairgrounds

Posted: March 2, 2009 07:00 PM

Updated: March 3, 2009 06:19 AM

Robin Davis

"Doc" is Davis' service dog.

Emily Longnecker/Eyewitness News

Indianapolis - Confusion led to a "canine controversy" at the state fairgrounds for a man who served his country and the service dog now responsible for serving him.

Where Robin Davis goes, so does his 5-year-old Labrador named "Doc".

"I don't take him places because he's my buddy. I take him places because I need his service," said Davis.

That's why Doc was with Davis in Saint Vincent Northeast's emergency room Monday afternoon.

"This afternoon, I had a seizure and fell in the kitchen," explained Davis. "Trusty Doc was there because he brought me out of the seizure by licking my face."

That's Doc's job - he's a service dog.

"If I'm by myself, he's with me," said Davis.

( And that was the case this past weekend when Davis says he took Doc to the Indianapolis Boat, Sport and Travel Show at the Fairgrounds. He said a man taking tickets stopped him from entering Pepsi Coliseum. )

sami

This is quite a minor incident in and of itself, but it's symptomatic of the wider problem.

Earlier this evening I was settling down to watch a DVD with my brother-out-law, Chas. Chas was operating the remotes, and was trying to get the DVD player turned on (shooting past an obstruction, you understand), when I heard him mutter that he wasn't even sure if the screen was on.

Looking over, I saw the red light on the corner of the (LCD) TV was showing, so I said it wasn't on. He switched remotes, hit the button again, the red light turned green and the screen started warming up.

"Okay, now it's on," I said. "You can tell by whether the light in the corner is red or green."

"Wait," Chas said. "They use red and green to indicate? Those bastards!"

Despite long and close association, it took me a second to work it out - he was having a problem because he has moderate red-green colour-blindness. Really quite moderate, but he could still only sort-of tell the difference after I'd pointed it out - he hadn't been aware, really, that the light changed colour at all.

Red-green colour-blindness is relatively prevalent in the male population; in cases like this it's trivial, but the sad thing is, marking distinctions by red vs green is not at all unusual. (Fairly recently, for example, Chas was looking at diagrams of something, and had to get my help, because the diagrams coded different areas by use of red and green dots, and he had trouble telling which was which.)

It's a thoroughly invisible disability, ranging from vague annoyance to occasional danger, but it shouldn't be a disability at all. Red/green should never, ever be used to convey information merely by colour differentials.

druidspell

I'm temporarily able-bodied, although I became much more aware of accessibility issues during the winter and spring of 2007 and 2008 when I was laid out with spiral comminuted fractures of my right tibia and fibula. The fail I'm reporting is at the University of Kentucky's Slone Building, built in 1960. The Slone Building is part of the Earth Sciences department, and is used for classrooms, office space, and lab space primarily for the Earth Sciences department, but also for other departments (e.g. I took an Archaeology class in there once, my sister took a Sociology class, etc.).
The building is pictured here and here.

That's the front of the building. The fail starts here.
There are 12 disabled accessible parking spaces--located in the back of the building. The front of the building is accessible via sidewalk--that has a five and a half inch curb between it and street level. To park in the permit-controlled lot as a student, you must have a UK disabled parking permit, even if you have a state disabled license plate or tag. If you are a visitor, you must park in a non-permit controlled lot, or in a metered parking lot (the closest of either of which is more than a block away).
The front doors of the building are 28 inches wide, but the doors weren't hung properly, so they are difficult to open even for someone without mobilitiy or pain issues. They also lack any type of automatic open function, so that if you are, for instance, confined to a wheelchair with cerebral palsy like my friend H., you must wait for outside assistance to enter or exit the building.
The first floor of the building is only office space; the labs and classrooms are on the second and third floors. To reach the elevator, follow the corridor to the left until you reach a set of double doors. Again, these double doors aren't automatic, and are awkward to manage if you're also managing any type of device intented for mobility assistance (wheelchair, cane, crutches, etc.).
The elevator doors are narrow and the elevator itself is small; it was intended as a service elevator, not one to be used by students. The buttons for the upper floors may be out of reach for someone in a wheelchair. It's not prompt, so that if you're using crutches or a cane, you'll be on your feet waiting for a good minute and a half or more--not much time in the grand scheme of things, but if you're exhausted and in pain even nanoseconds drag.
In addition to putting the classrooms and labs on the second and third floors, the building features only one accessible bathroom: the men's room on the first floor. There is no women's bathroom on the first floor. No other bathrooms are designed for disabled access.

calligrafiti

A man in Nova Scotia is taking a Tim Hortons to the Nova Scotia Human Rights Commission because he can't get his wheelchair into the restaurant and they won't let him use it at the drive-through.

While I could see some safety issues of having a wheelchair at the drive-through window, it seems like fixing the door accessibility issues (and internal maneuverability issues, which the claimant brings up) would have been a reasonable resolution.

onceamy

A bit of an introduction: I suffer from CFS/ME and fibromyalgia, and associated mobility issues. I do not, as yet, have to use a cane or a wheelchair, but I’m always on the proverbial lookout for accessibility wins and fails. I’m pleased to report the former:

I recently (over the weekend) went to the Redcourt homestead to attend my Mother’s wedding, and although I was hurting from a lack of decent sleep and lots of walking, I was incredibly pleased to notice that the female toilets had an accessible toilet placed in the first cubicle (closest to the door), with highly placed bars that were sufficiently strong and high to lift oneself up with. Normally, you wouldn’t expect a bush place to even have an accessible cubicle, let alone the bars!

Current Mood: tired
Current Location: Home, of course.
Current Music: Listening to Laughing-Lobster whine away.