- LingvoAfrikaans Argentina AzÉrbaycanca
á¥áá áá£áá Äesky Ãslenska
áá¶áá¶ááááá à¤à¥à¤à¤à¤£à¥ বাà¦à¦²à¦¾
தமிழ௠à²à²¨à³à²¨à²¡ ภาษาà¹à¸à¸¢
ä¸æ (ç¹é«) ä¸æ (é¦æ¸¯) Bahasa Indonesia
Brasil Brezhoneg CatalÃ
ç®ä½ä¸æ Dansk Deutsch
Dhivehi English English
English Español Esperanto
Estonian Finnish Français
Français Gaeilge Galego
Hrvatski Italiano Îλληνικά
íêµì´ LatvieÅ¡u Lëtzebuergesch
Lietuviu Magyar Malay
Nederlands Norwegian nynorsk Norwegian
Polski Português RomânÄ
Slovenšcina Slovensky Srpski
Svenska Türkçe Tiếng Viá»t
Ù¾Ø§Ø±Ø³Û æ¥æ¬èª ÐÑлгаÑÑки
ÐакедонÑки Ðонгол Ð ÑÑÑкий
СÑпÑки УкÑаÑнÑÑка ×¢×ר×ת
اÙعربÙØ© اÙعربÙØ©
Akceptejo / Fotaroj / Etikedo Cindy 3
ADAPT (355)
Photo by Tom Olin: Four people in wheelchairs, (left to right) Cindy from Mass., Bernard Baker in back, an unknown person with back to camera in motorized wheelchair, and Greg Buchanan, block a wheelchair accessible shuttle bus on a downtown street. In the front window of the bus is a sign that reads Moscone Center. Bernard has his fist raised in the power salute and he and Cindy's mouths are open chanting. Jane Jackson is sitting on the sidewalk behind them near the bus.
ADAPT (634)
This Brain Has A Mouth (The Mouth) Jan/Feb 1991 PHOTO by Gary Bosworth: A small neat looking white woman in a motorized wheelchair, Cindy from Mass., sits in a revolving doorway. Wrapped loosely around her shoulder, wheelchair and the door frame is a long metal chain. She has a poster sign across her legs, but in the photo it is too dark to read. On her left side and slightly in front and partially in the picture, another small neat looking woman in dark sunglasses, Lillibeth Navarro, sits in her chair and appears to be talking over her shoulder. Below the picture is a text box that reads: In March of 1990, 104 members of ADAPT were arrested in the Capitol Rotunda for lobbying the old-fashioned way — with their stubborn bodies and loud mouths. Four months later President Bush sent a personal invitation to every one of those arrestees to attend the ceremonies at the signing of the Americans with Disabilities Act in the White House Rose Garden. ANGER can make you a hero, or put you in jail, or both. written and photographed by Gary Bosworth. I was one of 200 people with disabilities who converged on Atlanta three months after the historic ADA was signed, to raise the banner of ADAPT’s new demand: a clear-cut national policy on attendant service programs. The lack of basic attendant services keeps one million disabled Americans imprisoned in nursing homes when they could be full-fledged, contributing members of society. While it costs $30,000 a year to keep one of us in a nursing home, the cost of providing attendant care services for the same person is $4,000 to $6,000 a year. In an ever-deepening federal budget crisis, ADAPT’s simple proposal will cost not a single penny, but simply redirect 25% of the funds currently spent on nursing home care. Attendant services in fact save money and cut the deficit by allowing all Americans — not just the able-bodied — to be productive workers, taxpayers. October’s action for disability rights at Morehouse College in Atlanta was the national kickoff for this vital issue. Morehouse College’s most famous graduate is Martin Luther King, Jr. Our protest there followed in King's grand tradition of non-violent passive civil disobedience. Morehouse College is also the alma mater of U.S. Secretary of Health and Human Services, Louis Sullivan — the man with the power to push for a new national policy on attendant services. ADAPT had written to Secretary Sullivan months in advance, asking for a meeting. Sullivan was scheduled to be in Atlanta the week before. ADAPT asked for an hour of his time. Sullivan did not respond. More than fifty of ADAPT’s demonstrators took over the President's office at Morehouse College for the night of October 1st. A young boy saw news of our protests on TV that evening. He stayed up late into the night to make a sandwich for each demonstrator, pack each sandwich into a bag, and write on every bag: "You are my Hero." The boy and his mother delivered those hero sandwiches to the demonstrators the next morning. When we returned from the college, street vendors along the route stood up and applauded our wheelchair parade. At another protest in Decatur, Georgia, traffic stopped several times on a four-lane highway while the drivers honked their horns in support of the issues we raised. On October 3, we forced the issue further, blockading the doors of the Federal Building. [See photos...] During the four hours it took for the police to arrest 64 people with disabilities who were blocking the entrance, one police officer took a break to speak with a woman in a wheelchair who waited to be loaded onto the arrest bus. The cop said that his wife had just suffered a stroke. Because there is no attendant services program in Georgia, he expected to see his wife go into a nursing home — against both their wishes — within the next six months. The woman he had arrested told him that's why she was demonstrating: to speak for people like his wife who couldn’t speak out themselves. After the woman was loaded onto the arrest bus, the policeman asked to hold her hand. She reached out the window. He took her hand. Then he cried. Please, let us all put our anger into action and speak out for attendant services. Whatever happens — jail or heroism or both — we're going all the way. PHOTO by Gary Bosworth: A group of about 7 protesters, all but one in wheelchairs, stand in front of the mirror glass walls and front door of a building. One person standing and one person in a wheelchair hold a giant ADAPT flag behind a man in a wheelchair giving the power fist. Bob Kafka is sitting behind the flag and Cindy from Boston and another wheelchair user hold the end of the flag. The end Gary Bosworth has been active in disability rights for 8 years, is co-founder of Desert Access of Palm Springs, California, and member of the Board of Directors of Southern California ADAPT.
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.)