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Sākums / Albūmi / Tags paternalism 4
ADAPT (375)
San Francisco September 30,1987 S.F. Independent PHOTO (right middle of page) by Rick Gerharter: At least nine wheelchair users (among them, Rick James, Stephanie Thomas, Woody Carlson, Cathy Thomas or Julie Farrar and others) fill the front of the frame blocking a bus with a sign with the APTA logo and Hotels written on it. Most of the blockers are facing toward the bus, away from the camera. Police stand on either side of the bus. Two protesters have Proud and Disabled bumper stickers on the backs of their wheelchairs. Caption: Disabled protesters blocked a SamTrans bus Monday at the American Public Transit Association convention taking place this week at Moscone Center. [Headline] Bitter Protests at Transit Meet By: Carol Farron [This story continues on a second page we do not have at this time.] Disabled people from throughout the United States are angry and have gathered in San Francisco this week to protest the lack of accessibility on public transit systems throughout the nation. The protesters are hoping to force transit officials who are convening at the annual meeting of the American Public Transit Association to change their thinking on transit accessibility for the disabled. APTA, public transit's biggest lobbying group, took the lead in the early 1980s in convincing Congress to overturn federal regulations allowing full transit accessibility for the disabled. What resulted from that decision was a "local option" plan. This allowed individual transit agencies to decide if they would provide accessibility for the disabled on fixed route service or an alternate van/taxi service. Many disabled `groups` are unhappy with that outcome, charging that the local option denies them their civil rights and impedes or prohibits their ability to attend school or hold down jobs because of a lack of transportation. Additionally, many disabled say that paratransit is a paternalistic system that segregates them from society, and users are made to feel helpless. APTA members contend that full accessibility is expensive and unworkable. They say that equipping buses and trains with lifts is too expensive given the number of disabled riders. The disabled, however, say that transit's estimates of disabled riders are low, and accessible transit can work as cities like Seattle, San Francisco and Denver have proven. More than 200 wheelchair bound men and women said last Saturday at a press conference that because the current regulations deny them their civil rights they came prepared to be arrested - and that they were. Thirty-four people, most in wheelchairs, were arrested at a City Hall protest last Sunday, and another 22 were arrested in for blocking a Samtrans bus at Moscone Center on Monday. Many more arrests are expected until the convention's conclusion this Thursday. "This is a militant bunch of protestors," said Jack Gilstrap, executive vice president of APTA. "These people terrified and roughed up some of our members at city hall. "Just because someone is in a wheelchair doesn't mean they're nice." Marilyn Golden of SAAT, the September Alliance for Accessible Transit, said her group is "far from militant." see Rides, page 2
ADAPT (93)
THE DENVER POST Thurs., July 6, 1978 p 24 [Headline] Having ‘Made Public Aware,' Disabled End Bus Barricade By FRED GILLIES, Denver Post Staff Writer and COKE DeBRUIN More than 30 severely disabled persons, most of them in wheelchairs, ended their 24-hour barricade of two Regional Transportation District buses in downtown Denver Thursday morning. The barricade was lifted by the disabled and their leaders at 9 a.m. Thursday. The demonstrators, still in high spirits after a night in the open near the buses, left the site in five specially equipped Handy-Ride buses that RTD sent to the scene. THE BARRICADE “served its purpose" in making the public aware that the handicapped aren't being adequately served by Denver’s public transportation system, said Wade Blank, co-director of the Atlantis Community for the handicapped in Denver. All but a few of the demonstrators are from Atlantis. At a press conference just before the barricade was lifted, Blank vowed that the disabled's civil disobedience action will be continued, but on a smaller scale, at various locations in Denver. The disabled will attempt to board other RTD buses and a demonstration probably will be staged at RTD's executive offices, Blank said. The barricade of the two RTD buses Wednesday near the intersection of East Colfax Avenue and Lincoln Street created a major traffic jam and caused police to reroute traffic away from the blocklong demonstration site. Traffic was back to normal at 9:30 a.m. Thursday. ALL DURING the demonstration, some of the disabled remained close to the buses. The number of handicapped persons guarding the immobilized buses thinned Wednesday night and early Thursday as many of the disabled slept in a nearby park area. Blank said Thursday that he and the disabled were"‘concerned" about the “paternalistic” attitude of Denver police called to the scene of the bus barricade. Police “gave the disabled special treatment when we broke the law, and they didn’t arrest us," Blank said. THE DISABLED want to he treated like everyone else, and were fully prepared to be arrested for their actions, said Blank who has no disability himself. Three persons, including two Atlantis attendants and the director of a Lakewood home for disabled children, were arrested Wednesday morning after they refused to comply with a police order to move out of the street. However, police records show that only two of those persons were booked and then released on bond. NONE OF THE handicapped demonstrators was arrested during the demonstration. But a police spokesman said Thursday morning that arrests of the disabled would become a very real possibility if the demonstration had continued into the day Thursday. While the demonstration generally was successful, it failed to inform the public that the federal govemment has made a commitment to pay 80 percent of the cost of all transportation for the disabled in the City and County of Denver, Blank said. “All RTD has to do is to ask for that money," Blank maintained. In a continuing effort, Blank said, Atlantis officials will be, contacting Colorado’s congressional delegation seeking their follow-through on the issue of transportation for the disabled. The demonstration apparently was "sparked by a ruling last Friday by U.S. District Judge Richard Matsch in federal court in Denver. In that ruling, Matsch rejected charges that the Regional Transportation District's failure to provide special access for handicapped persons on its buses constituted an unconstitutional infringement on those persons’ liberty to travel. THAT SUIT WAS the culmination of nearly five years of effort in trying to work with RTD in updating and equipping its fleet to accommodate the disabled, Blank said. “We thought the best way to change the system was to go through the courts, but that failed,” Blank said Wednesday night. "Now, where do we get the power to change RTD?" John Simpson, director of the RTD, spent four hours Wednesday talking with members of the handicapped group, attempting to persuade them to end their barricade of the buses and discuss the situation through existing channels. “We volunteered to meet with them there or at any other time,” Simpson said. “We have met with them many times in the past," he added. THE COURT DECISION, Simpson said, indicates “what we are doing isn't a violation of their constitutional rights. Our Handy-Ride service is one of the best in the nation. But they say they won‘t go away until every RTD bus has a chair lift on it." In a discussion with one of the demonstrators Wednesday, Simpson said that since 1975, RTD has operated 12 buses specially equipped to serve the handicapped. Eighteen similarly equipped buses are being readied for service “in the near future," Simpson said. And 10 other buses will be provided with equipment to serve the handicapped, hopefully by September, he added. But the coalition of the handicapped maintained RTD's Handy-Ride—a system equipped with wheelchair lifts and stairs-is “foul joke" inasmuch - as it serves only “a handful" of the 1,000 disabled persons on the waiting list. SIMPSON RESPONDED by maintaining there are 700 disabled persons on that waiting list, and many of those have indicated they need only occasional Handy-Ride service. RTD‘s last order for 231 buses, Sim said, specified that the vehicles have wide doors to accommodate the handicapped “when and if it becomes financially and economically feasible." Eighteen of the 231 buses will have wheelchair tie-down devices, and those buses [will] be placed in regular service whenever we're sure they‘re safe,” Simpson said. One of the demonstrators. Kerry Sc[_?__] 25, of Denver, said, “We're paying to support these buses. I have my rights. There's (handicapped) people tied up in homes. They can't get nowhere—shopping, to the movies or sports. In [lndia]neapolis, they have buses for the handicapped and they're running really g[ood.] I don't see why Denver doesn't have the same thing.” GLENN COPP, co director of the Atlantis Community, maintained that RTD Handy-Ride buses pick up the handicapped “only at a certain time and [bring] them only to a certain destination. Using private Ambocab service, [the] disabled must pay $17 for a round trip in the Denver area, Copp said. Blank, who is co-executive director the Atlantis Community for the handicapped, said it was the group's intention to have one of its members arrested to set a precedent. “But even if we busted, I don‘t know where we'd be Blank said. Police records show that one non-handicapped sympathizer, Lisa Wheeler, [of] Corona St., was booked then released on bond early Wednesday morning. She was arrested for failure to obey a police order to move out of the street. The demonstration took RTD office by surprise, and Jerry Richmond, “ma[nager] of communications, said the company hadn't been informed of the protest.
ADAPT (223)
MAinstream magazine [No date] [This story continues in ADAPT 222, but is contained here in its entirety for reading ease.] [Headline] ADAPT takes the fast lane to make transit accessible By Michael Ervin San Antonio—The first indication that something was about to happen came when an oversized, stretch-limo of a van pulled up beside the Alamo and a wheelchair lift uncurled out of the back door. The colorful banner on the side of the van read: ACCESS FOR ALL. Six more people in wheelchairs were in another van parked in a lot down the street. As they proceeded down the sidewalk to join the demonstration in front of the Alamo the pedestrians stopped and looked them over. A parade of people in wheelchairs is bound to draw stares. But the expressions accompanying these stares were unique—welcoming, supportive, somewhat star struck. Maybe they knew they were coming. Before the 50 or so members of various chapters of American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit even arrived here there were stories in the media about previous ADAPT confrontations with the American Public Transit Association (APTA.) Television news showed footage of the mass arrests that occurred last October in Washington, D.C. when ADAPT members tried to force their way into the center where APTA was holding its annual convention. That's the kind of escalating media coverage Wade Blank likes to see. He’s the main force behind ADAPT. “We're becoming famous. When we had our first ADAPT meeting in Denver in 1982, our goal was to make the officials of any city we were coming to nervous. We wanted them to say, ‘No! Not here! We don’t want ‘em!’” They were certainly nervous in San Antonio. When a horde of people in wheelchairs showed up at the offices of the local transit authority for a noisy demonstration, the employees locked themselves in a large office as if they were afraid ADAPT was going to take them out one by one and shoot them. And when the march that began at the Alamo turned into an equally raucous occupation of the lobby of the posh hotel where APTA people were staying, hotel security had no idea what to do. And the bewildered looks of the innocent tourists were amusing. They’d certainly never seen anything like that before. “Seeing a bunch of disabled crazies blocking buses and doing things like that redefines everything everybody’s been conditioned to believe about the disabled," Blank says. This radical redefinition of what the disabled are (in the eyes of both the disabled and nondisabled) is what ADAPT is all about. And having stuffy APTA conferences and conventions as a backdrop helps make that point. APTA’s primary sin, according to ADAPT, is that it spent big bucks on a lawsuit that struck down the federal mandate that all fixed-route public buses be lift-equipped. ADAPT sees equal transit access as the most basic civil right. “It's the same segregation as when blacks had to sit in the back of the bus or yield their seats to whites. Except it’s even worse,” says Blank. “The disabled can’t even get on the bus.” By using APTA as a symbol of the stifling paternalism that keeps the disabled in a position of dependency, ADAPT makes the immorality of inaccessible public transit quite clear. *** Wade Blank is an ordained minister who never goes to church. “It’s in the true Jesus tradition. He was kicked out of the synagogue and never went back.” Blank worked in a nursing home for a few years after seminary. It frustrated him to see the disabled friends he made there stuck there simply because they had no place else to go. So in 1976 he and some others began Atlantis, an independent living center in Denver. ADAPT was born of Atlantis. Blank says Atlantis likes to “do the impossible” in terms of working with clients who have the deepest holes of dependency to dig out of. Frank, a man with cerebral palsy who was part of the ADAPT Denver caravan to San Antonio, was sprung by Atlantis in 1976 from a nursing home he had been in since 1934. Another woman began feeding herself for the first time when she became part of Atlantis. She was always physically able to. Her mother just didn't want her making a mess. Another woman had never seen a head of lettuce. Her salads had always come to her prepared. It’s rather stunning seeing people who were mired in the world of please and thank you traveling around the country, blocking buses and maybe getting arrested. It’s gotten ADAPT and Atlantis in trouble with irate relatives. The father of a woman arrested for blocking buses in Denver told Wade that since he was a reverend he must be brainwashing his daughter into joining his cult, just like Jim Jones. He said he was going to tell the newspapers so they could investigate. But Blank says, “All we’re saying to people in Atlantis and ADAPT is, ‘You are an important person.’ I just tell them (the irate relatives) that people get excited when they see that they are important and that they are expected to be somebody.” In 1978, it became clear that the mission of Atlantis could never be fully accomplished as long as Denver’s public transit system was totally inaccessible. What good was it to set someone up in an accessible apartment if they couldn’t move beyond it? They might as well have still been in the nursing home. So the Atlantis people took to the streets of Denver. They blocked buses. They held sit-ins in the transit authority offices. They got arrested. But four years later, they won and Denver is on its way to full access. [Bordered text box in center of page: “We created a drama and let it unfold . . .I guess we raised consciousness.”] The next year, APTA made the mistake of holding its convention in Denver. The target was too tempting for Atlantis to resist. Here was the personification of everything Atlantis opposed right on its step and begging to be hit. Atlantis formed a permanent transportation component call ADAPT. They organized confrontations around the convention and vowed to follow APTA everywhere until it passed ADAPT ’s resolution renouncing the lawsuit and the damage it did. These confrontations would also provide a focal point and a training ground for activists from other cities so they could form their own ADAPT chapters. Mike Auberger of Atlantis is a quadriplegic resulting from a bobsled accident during the 1972 Olympic time trials. “When we started ADAPT, we were a bunch of crazy nuts. A year later, we were a possibility. Now, we’re a reality. We started in one city and here we are about 20 cities. We must be selling something everybody needs.” The hope is that the feeling of self-importance that inspired the disabled of Denver will be as infectious in San Antonio and in cities all over America. ADAPT paved the way in San Antonio by creating a three-day headache for the police and transit authority and forcing them to take the issue very seriously. They also permanently etched the issue on the minds of the people of San Antonio with pictures on the front page of the newspaper of disabled people blocking APTA tour buses. “We created a drama and let it unfold,” Blank says. “I was talking to a reporter and I said, ‘I guess we raised consciousness.’ She said, ‘Boy did you! That’s all this town is talking about.’ ” “Now you can’t say that about too many political movements today.” But even if it doesn’t play in San Antonio, Auberger sees what happened there as another battle won. “Again we took on APTA and beat them. You’ve got this guy in a $300 suit and a designer tie with his initials and a soup stain on it. More and more people are starting to see APTA that way.” If success can be judged by police reaction, ADAPT is accomplishing a lot. Knowing ADAPT ’s penchant for blocking buses, the police routed buses away from areas with high ratios of wheelchair-users. They obviously did their homework by talking to police in other cities who had to deal with ADAPT. A television news report even told of how San Antonio police intelligence photographers were following ADAPT members around. And it’s clear that transit authorities are taking ADAPT very seriously too. The next target is Los Angeles, where APTA will hold its convention in October. ADAPT has obtained a copy of a private memo of the Southern California Rapid Transit District that speaks of the authority’s plans to spend $10,000 to $15,000 to “handle vast numbers of wheelchair bound people” who will be coming to town. “While confrontations cannot be stopped, they can be blunted.” It speaks of how the RTD is “searching for ways to diffuse or ward off demonstrations,” perhaps by pacifying everyone for a few days with a conference on accessible transit [ibid]. “Can we take control by creating a hospitality center for the handicapped?” the memo says. Who can resist such an opportunity. ADAPT is on its way.
ADAPT (572)
WHEN IS TOO MUCH: "Helping" the Disabled by Mary McKnew Just as airplane pilots want assurance that a plane's steering wheel won‘t come off while flying over Europe, people utilizing a bus wheelchair lift deserve to expect that the lift will operate in a safe and predictable manner. However, I have to admit that too much focus on “safety” issues has me a little worried. To some transit officials, “safety” issues in providing transportation services for people with disabilities raise old stereotypes of helplessness and can quickly become a rationale for imposing paternalistic policies. For example, here in Olympia, the local Intercity Transit Authority and the state's Department of General Administration are co-sponsoring a shuttle service between the capitol and downtown Olympia with routes passing other major states offices. With the local parking problem, this system is extremely convenient. From the beginning, all vans used in the service have been equipped with wheelchair lifts. All this, of course, is very commendable. So, what's the problem? Unfortunately, the van's tie-down system, lack of grab-bars and driver policies reflect a paternalistic attitude towards disabled passengers by promoting dependence in the name of safety. The tie-down system is one of the most primitive I have ever encountered. It uses straps to bind each of a wheelchair's four wheels to the floor in a rather intricate system that takes the driver approximately five minutes to accomplish. To tie-down a wheelchair, the driver must get on his or her hands and knees. Thus, it is not possible for even very mobile wheelchair users to accomplish this independently. However, once the straps are in place, none of the wheels will move even a centimeter. During this five minute routine, other van passengers wait outside (some glancing at their watches) until the driver folds the lift back in place and allows them to board. After being strapped down, the driver then will place a seat-belt around the wheelchair user. Seat belts are not available for other passengers. If the wheelchair user decides to reject use of a seat belt, the driver will attempt (sometimes loud) persuasion, finally telephoning into the office to report that the passenger has refused use of the belt. I use a wheelchair for mobility due to a low and incomplete spinal cord injury. I object to many of the features in the Intercity Transit system that, to me, are designed on the premise that people with disabilities will always need a lot of assistance from the driver. Although the driver should be trained and willing to provide assistance if it is requested, the system should be designed to promote maximum independence. Most tie-down systems can be easily manipulated by most wheelchair uses with finger movement. Although some wheelchair users need a seat belt due to problems with balance, drivers should not assume they are needed by all such passengers. A policy that requires a driver to phone in to report a passenger's rejection of the seat belt is founded on the belief that people with disabilities are incapable of making sound decisions regarding their own safety. Additionally, although grab-bars are located along the ceiling walls of other seats, none are available near the tie-down area. Thus, if the bus lurches while enroute, a wheelchair passenger has nothing to hold onto. I suppose this makes it more likely a wheelchair passenger will comply with the seat belt policy, recognizing that a passive restraint is better than none at all. Intercity Transit has been providing paratranslt services to people with disabilities for a number of years. They have moved into the provision of mainline transportation services (i.e., access to the regular bus service) only recently. It appears that they have simply shifted their operating policies and procedures from one system to the other without considering if these are applicable to the new service. I have brought my objections to Intercity Transit’s attention. Although the staff disagree with most, they are reconsidering others. Safety is a concern to people who use wheelchair lifts. However, we cannot allow it to become a convenient rationale for either eliminating the service or instituting restrictive policies that treat people with disabilities in a disparate manner from other passengers. PHOTO (by Tom Olin): A large crowd marches downhill on a wide street. In the front row a little girl in a wheelchair (Jennifer Keelan) is pushed by her mother (Cindy). Beside them a woman in a motorized wheelchair (Diane Coleman) and a long skirt and white jacket has a sign behind her reading "we the people." Beside her a man in a manual wheelchair (Bob Kafka) with a big salt and pepper beard rolls along. In the row behind, between Bob and Diane, is a woman in a wheelchair (Mary McKnew) and a man who walks (Lannie Schuman) are visible and next to them another man marches behind Diane. Behind Jennifer and Cindy is Tari Susan Hartman. Rows of marchers go further and further back up the street to the top of the hill and presumably beyond. Caption reads: Just to the right at the placard Washington residents Lannie Schuman and Mary McKnew participate in a San Francisco demonstration for transportation rights. ABOUT THE AUTHOR... In 1987, Mary McKnew tried to get arrested for the first time. She sat in front of a San Francisco police van and refused to move. She sat in her wheelchair directly under the wheels of a bus and refused to move. "I did many illegal things." she says wryly. What she did, she did in the name of accessible public transportation for people with disabilities... a personal and political quest McKnew has been following for the past 12 years. Although McKnew wasn't arrested at that demonstration (in spite of her civil disobedience efforts), many others were. More than 500 people organized by the American Disabled tor Accessible Public Transportation (ADAPT) marched through the streets oi San Francisco to the city hall to protest the continuing discriminatory policies supported by the American Public Transit Association (APTA). ADAPT has been a persistent thorn in the side of APTA for many years. Fortunately, their persistence paid off. With the final signing of the Americans With Disabilities Act (ADA) expected any day, ADAPT—- and McKnew — will see many of their demands for fair, accessible transportation become reality. But McKnew says that just because you pass laws doesn't mean you quit being an activist. "The ADA will bring private transit companies under regulations just like public ones," she says, "but just passing a law doesn't mean we solve the problem. implementation is a whole other thing." In part, McKnew was referring to the possibility that some private companies may reduce the seating capacity in some of their smaller vehicles in order to side-step the accessibility requirements mandated by the ADA. "What the ADA will do is provide a clear avenue for lawsuits," she says. Is McKnew planning on handling some of those lawsuits herself? It may be too early to tell. Currently an executive policy assistant in the Office of the Governor, McKnew is also a second-year law student at the University of Puget Sound. (This story continues in the original format on 571 but is included here in its entirety for ease of reading.)