With the election process in 2020 ongoing, I wanted to share a post that fellow blogger Karly shared on the cost of being disabled. While people with muscular dystrophy (what Karly was diagnosed with at a young age) might experience different costs from someone with a different type of disability, one thing that is universal is that American health care often makes it miserably expensive to have a disability. Since Karly’s hope is “to highlight the importance of voting with disabled people and health care in mind,” I figured that sharing her post at a critical point in the election process is ideal.
For able-bodied people like me, commuting in the snow takes a little bit more twisting and turning than it does on the average day. It’s annoying, but doable, for me.
For people with certain health challenges, whether it be physical health or mental health, the barriers created by individuals’ and/or society’s handling of winter weather, as well as barriers caused by the bad weather itself, can be problematic. Here are a few such barriers:
We as individuals don’t clear away a path wide enough for wheelchair users to navigate our sidewalks.
Many wheelchair users need a pathway that’s at least 32 inches, so a pathway shorter than that will most definitely not be friendly to people using wheelchairs. For this, the solution is simple—just clear a wide pathway on our sidewalks!
We as a society have no effective way of handling the crosswalks that get plowed in.
After major snowstorms, many a crosswalk in New York City, my hometown, get plowed under inches or even feet of snow. This affects wheelchair users, the young, people with other mobility issues (regardless of whether they use a walker or wheelchair or not) and the elderly the most, keeping all of these groups from effectively moving around. I am personally not aware of effective yet reasonable alternatives to this problem, though if anyone has solutions you can let me know in the comments section down below!
Pathways between sidewalks and buses are nonexistent or not wide enough for wheelchair users to pass, or for people with other mobility issues to navigate.
This is something I only noticed during a blizzard in January 2018, but boy is it a problem! Many pathways between sidewalks and buses that should exist don’t exist, making access to the bus impossible unless you’re completely able-bodied as I am. If the entity/entities responsible can shovel a pathway between sidewalks and buses wide enough for wheelchair users and people with other mobility issues to pass, the problem can be fixed.
The bad weather has adverse affects on mental health.
A string of bad weather days can affect people who deal with claustrophobia (fear of involving being confined to small spaces), and the weather can cause great deals of stress that can be harmful to mental health, to name two. Nobody per se is at fault for these issues, but nevertheless we should be aware that these issues exist.
So next time a snow or ice storm comes, some of us may rejoice while others may complain. But regardless of what our own reactions are, we must be sensitive to the challenges that people with disabilities face in the elements. To that end, feel free to comment below is there’s some issue (physically or mentally) caused by winter weather that I did not mention in this post.
A few weeks ago, many disability rights advocates celebrated the 27th anniversary of the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA). On July 26, 1990, President George H.W. Bush signed this landmark legislation into law.
I wanted to be in a celebratory mood on the anniversary of the ADA. Yet, as I suddenly remembered how far people with disabilities still need to come before they have the same opportunities as able-bodied people like me, the anniversary felt a little bittersweet.
Now, don’t get me wrong—in spite of the statement I just said, I think that the ADA is arguably the most significant piece of civil rights legislation in the last fifty years (the Voting Rights Act was passed in 1965). It is a piece of legislation that improves the lives of millions of Americans, and it is a piece of legislation which, in many cases, enables disabled people to have access to the same opportunities that their able-bodied counterparts have.
While the legislation has improved the lives of millions, it still has a way to go to give disabled people the same access as able-bodied people.
For example, while transit access has improved for people with disabilities, they don’t have access equal to their able-bodied counterparts. One need not look further than the fact that subway systems in New York, Chicago, and Boston, for example, do not have universal wheelchair access (though New York’s situation is much worse than that of Boston or Chicago).
Furthermore, while many buildings now have ADA access, the quality of that access (in the form of things like elevators and ramps) can widely vary. Sometimes the ADA access is top-notch, and sometimes the access leaves something to be desired (everyone can probably think of examples of unreliable elevators).
There is the potential for people with disabilities in many cases to have opportunities similar to able-bodied people like me. But in many areas, that potential hasn’t been fully realized, even though the ADA was passed over a quarter century ago. And there is a certain disappointment, a certain bittersweetness, that I feel as a result of this potential that hasn’t been fully realized.
But why should you all, as readers, care about my being bittersweet about the anniversary of the ADA, let alone one of the reasons I feel bittersweet? I think all of you should care because my bittersweetness is a reminder for all of us that the advancement of disabled persons’ rights did not end with the ADA. Instead, the uneven progress in accessibility for people with disabilities is a reminder that there is still much to advocate for.
People who read the title of this post may be led to think that I am anti-church, anti-Christianity. And I get that. It’s a title that may come across as directly attacking Christianity.
To the contrary, however, I believe that sometimes the best love is to offer honest, constructive criticism, especially when it comes to matters of justice. In the case of ableism within American Christianity, I offer some constructive criticism: opposition to implementation of the Americans with Disabilities Act from many in the American Church is wrong, and that opposition must end.
The Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) was signed into law twenty-nine years ago as of this Friday. It was arguably the most sweeping civil rights legislation since various African American civil rights legislation passed in the 1960s.
And yet, a key institution, a key group was excluded from the ADA: religious institutions.
Religious institutions as a whole are exempt from the ADA, but I should note that it seemed to be Christians who really took the lead in advocating against the inclusion of religious institutions in the legislation (hence, my focus on Christians in this post). The arguments from the (predominantly Christian) opponents at the time involved the money argument (that it would cost too much) and the “problem” involved with government “intruding” on religious institutions.
Money is an understandable concern, as it costs money to make any building ADA-accessible. However, using money as an excuse to not support the ADA at all (and de facto to exclude a whole group of people from churches), as opposed to coming to an agreement that would implement the ADA at churches and other religious institutions in a way that makes the churches accessible without bankrupting the congregations, does give credence to Timothy’s argument that the love of money is the root of all evil (1 Timothy 6:10)—in this case, the evil being the exclusion of people from church spaces and the desire to hold on to money rather than spend it in order to make worship and fellowship spaces accessible to all being at the root of this evil.
I find it difficult to rationalize the “intrusion” argument—the argument that government forcing churches to comply with ADA would be too intrusive. It is wrongful that church institutions have in this case been more concerned about “intrusion” than the fact that the lack of it has literally kept people of various disabilities from going to church, and in many cases keeping people of various disabilities from becoming or staying Christian. I know people who have found themselves spiritually homeless, if not abandoning their faith, because we as a Church have often worried more about intrusion than about the fact that inaccessible churches keep people away from church.
Controversial as it may be for me to say this, religious institutions should not be exempt from the Americans with Disabilities Act. Additionally, regardless of what the law is, individual church congregations should try to use the money and resources they do have to make their churches more accessible to people with a variety of disabilities. It is the right thing to do.
 Note that I am a Christian, so it is important for me (and other Christians who care about this issue) to give constructive criticism.
Ah yes, the 4th of July, Independence Day in America. A good excuse to have a cookout, drink some alcohol if you are of age, and enjoy fireworks (or even produce fireworks). All three things I mentioned are the highlight of Independence Day for some of us.
The fireworks, unfortunately, are actually the lowlight for one very important sector of the population—military veterans and gun violence survivors with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). To make matters worse, our nation doesn’t do enough to help military veterans and gun violence survivors who experience PTSD as a result of the fireworks.
In the words of a veteran of the United States Marines who put up a fireworks courtesy sign on a previous Independence Day, “It’s the loud noise of the fireworks that can be a trigger. It sounds a lot like a bomb or explosions.” In other words, these fireworks remind people with war-related PTSD of the awful, even deadly, memories of being in combat in places such as Iraq, Afghanistan, Vietnam, and Korea. They also remind many gun violence survivors of awful, even deadly, memories of they or their loved ones and/or themselves being shot at. The fireworks that are fun for some of us make the lives of others a living hell for a night.
What makes this injustice especially awful for me is that the United States makes a big deal of supporting our troops and gun violence survivors alike (as we should), yet we don’t seem to pay attention to the needs both groups on Independence Day. If we really had actions to go along with the “support our troops” or “support gun violence survivors” rhetoric, shouldn’t we, as individuals, be more sensitive to those who experience PTSD as a result of the fireworks?
My question, of course, is a rhetorical one, because the answer is, “Yes, we should be aware of these things!” But how can we, as individuals or as a society, take measures to be sensitive to the needs of people with PTSD?
I humbly offer a few suggestions for individuals, and a potential suggestion for state governments to consider.
One suggestion for individuals is to simply not set off fireworks if you can’t do so legally! The professionals are best at setting off fireworks and doing so safely, anyway. In addition, by refusing to set off fireworks you will lessen the amount of distress you cause to any military veterans from war-related PTSD or gun violence survivors from PTSD related to gun violence.
Another suggestion is more involved and costly, yet also potentially useful: if you have a family member or friend who has PTSD that gets triggered by the fireworks, consider searching for a 4th of July destination that is devoid of fireworks (not just firework shows, but fireworks from individual citizens). I have no idea how easy it is to find a 4th of July destination that has no fireworks, but the mere gesture of searching for a place without fireworks to help your family member or friend is extremely kind. Furthermore, if you are successful in finding such a destination for your family member or friend unless you are looking at international destinations, you would make the person’s life so much better.
My final suggestion is one for government. Namely, maybe state governments should consider hosting fireworks-free 4th of July celebrations in destinations far from fireworks (like maybe state parks, depending on location). Such celebrations would be fun, yet at the same time provide refuge for military veterans with war-related PTSD, gun violence survivors with PTSD, pets, babies, and people in general who don’t react well to fireworks (because there are actually many people and animals who don’t react well to the fireworks).
All of these suggestions are better than the status quo, which is one where we set off fireworks without thinking about those who are harmed as a result of others’ celebrations. Hopefully, individuals and/or governments will start to follow these suggestions, and in the process show that we truly “support our troops” and “support gun violence survivors,” including those with PTSD.
Note: Next week, I will publish my post on Friday instead of Tuesday.
 While my focus is on Independence Day in the United States, the issues I express here are also relevant to people with gun violence-related PTSD around the world.