accessibility

Dreaming of an accessible world by Beth Winegarner

Image of a yellow wall with a blue door that is partially open. Photo by Roan Lavery, courtesy Unsplash.

In their newest book, “The Future Is Disabled,” Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha asks readers to dream up what a fully accessible world would look like for us. I’ve been thinking about that a lot in the weeks since I read this fantastic book, but have also found myself reluctant to write it all down. First off, it’s a LOT. And there are things that would make the world more accessible for me but would make it less accessible for some people. And I’ve had a lifetime of people calling me “high maintenance,” or saying I’m asking for too much. When I think about making a list like this, my stomach clenches and hurts. But I’m going to try it anyway. 

Big picture: 

  • End fat-shaming/fatphobia. 

  • End misogyny and all of its offshoots (transphobia, homophobia). 

  • End ableism and disableism.

  • End racism. (We all suffer because of it!)

  • Make it possible to work part-time and earn enough money to be self-sufficient. Or establish universal basic income that’s enough to live on.

  • Make wide-ranging medical care, both physical and mental health care, as well as dental and vision care, free to the public. 

  • Make sure doctors have time to listen to patients, and to respect their patients’ perspectives. 

  • Make it possible for people to live in rural/natural environments but still get all their needs met. 

  • Efficient, comprehensive, low-cost public transportation. 

Details: 

  • Make almost every environment quiet enough that you can hear a conversation at normal volume, or the sound of a large bird’s wings flapping as it passes overhead. (There could be exceptions for immersive experiences, like concerts, and for emergency vehicles).

  • Create lots and lots of places to sit down, ideally with back support. Along sidewalks, on park and hiking trails, on beaches. 

  • Lots of opportunities for shade/shelter. At bus stops, along sidewalks, in parks and so on. 

  • Make massage therapy cheap, free, or covered by insurance. (But make sure practitioners are paid well.)

  • No heavy colognes, perfumes or other scents, especially in enclosed spaces (I’m looking at you, Uber and Lyft) or when trying on clothes. 

  • Unscented soap in public bathrooms.

  • Public bathrooms would have towels for drying hands, or ultra-quiet air dryers. 

  • No beeping, especially vehicles when they’re backing up (gentler noises are OK). 

  • One sound at a time. This has been a problem for me in a variety of spaces, but I’m especially thinking of video calls, where someone is speaking while there’s music or clapping or something at the same time.

  • Good ventilation. I’ve been in so many indoor spaces in the pandemic where windows were closed and air filters were turned off. 

  • Fewer reflective surfaces, especially outdoors. (I am often in pain or can’t see outdoors because of sunlight reflecting off windows or cars.)

  • No bright LED or fluorescent lighting, unless it can be filtered/frosted in some way or turned off. 

  • Make window shades or curtains available for bright, sunny windows and skylights. 

  • Warn theater/concert patrons about bright and/or strobing lights before they purchase tickets. 

  • Elevators in every building that has multiple stories.

  • All stores: Make it very easy for customers to find what they’re looking for. Visual clutter and bad signage make this difficult. Also, chain stores should all be laid out the same way to make it easier for customers to orient themselves. 

  • Restaurants/cafes/etc: Make your ingredients lists readily available for customers with food sensitivities/allergies. 

  • Chairs/sitting areas would fit people with a wide range of hip sizes. None of these narrow chairs with arm rests that bruise my hips and thighs. Ow. 

  • No walkie-talkies or overhead announcement systems in stores (I’m looking at you, Target, Home Depot, Walgreens, etc). 

  • Make sure lines move quickly, or that there are ways for people to sit down if lines are long and slow. 

  • Give people options for how they want to be contacted (phone, email, text, etc.) and honor those wishes. 

  • Allow people to opt out of group activities/icebreakers that involve speaking aloud, or being physical (dancing, e.g.) in front of others.

  • Provide accurate closed captioning on everything. TikTok, Instagram, movies, TV, everything. 

  • Provide accurate transcripts for podcasts/radio shows/TV/movies/YouTube etc. 

  • Invite me to events at least a month in advance, and then remind me a few days beforehand. 

This is by no means complete, and I might come back and add to it as I think of more. 

Leah’s book also got me thinking about what might be on my access rider for public speaking and events, both online and in person, but I haven’t put anything together yet. For those interested, you can read Leah’s accessibility rider for events here, and fellow chronically ill writer/performer Johanna Hedva’s access rider here

Why concert lighting is an accessibility issue by Beth Winegarner

About four years ago, in July, 2017, I went with a friend to see Ghost at the Warfield in San Francisco. I was really looking forward to the show, and had picked out a seat in the balcony where I could enjoy myself without getting jostled by moshers or wearing myself out by being on my feet for several hours. 

As we got inside, I noticed small signs around the venue, warning people that the performance would feature strobe lights, and anyone with seizures triggered by flashing lights should be aware. I don’t have seizures, but I do have migraines, and they’re often triggered by bright, direct light, including strobe lights. Even though I did my best to shield my eyes from the strobes, about halfway through the show, I felt a migraine coming on. Pain burned through my head, neck and shoulders, and I started to feel nauseated. I took my meds (ibuprofen and maxalt) and retreated to the women’s lounge, where I could still hear the band but couldn’t see the stage lights anymore. 

I’d spent $40 or $50 to see a band, and got half a show and a migraine instead. If I’d known about the strobes ahead of time, I might have skipped the gig and saved my money. Now imagine I’d had a seizure instead.

An acquaintance of mine works in lighting, mostly for tech conferences but occasionally for theater and concert performances. After the Ghost show, I had a number of questions that he answered for me. I came away more informed, and more frustrated, than I’d been before. Here’s why: 

  • Venues don’t know ahead of time which bands are going to use lighting that might cause problems for audiences with seizures and/or migraines. 

  • Because they don’t know ahead of time, they can’t warn people at the time of ticket sales. 

  • That means a certain number of concertgoers either have to bail after they get to the venue, hide out somewhere where they can’t see the lighting, or tough it out and hope their condition won’t be triggered. I don’t know if you can get a refund for these kinds of situations (and that’s assuming people didn’t travel a long way to see the show, rent a hotel room, etc.).

  • There are no regulations barring bands from using lighting that can induce seizures and/or migraines. 

This is an accessibility issue. In any given audience at the Warfield (capacity: 2,300), there’s likely to be an average of two people with light-sensitive epilepsy, and another 200 or so will have migraines caused by photosensitivity. Bands either need to warn their venues (and audiences) ahead of time that their light shows could trigger seizures or migraines, or stop using lighting that provokes these conditions. 

Have you ever had a seizure or migraine triggered by the lighting at a show? What did you do about it?