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Leathaineach abhaile / Albums / Tag DREDF - Disability Rights Education and Defense Fund 7
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ADAPT (206)
Village Voice, March 4, 1986, p.27 [Headline] NAT HENTOFF: America’s Apartheid [This was part of a series of articles Mr. Hentoff wrote for the Village Voice on disability issues and people with disabilities in our society.] PHOTO in center of page, Photo credit Michael Rondou / Press - Telegram: A slight man (Bobby Hartwell) in a somewhat rickety manual wheelchair sits in front of a large city bus [number 4405]. Through the windsheild a very beefy uniformed man, perhaps the driver, stands arms resting in front of him. Behind and to the side of this first bus is a group of three police men standing and conferring. Behind them a couple of other wheelchair riders are blocking a second bus. Behind that bus a third is barely visable. Text box above the photo: “Anatomy is not destiny and never has been.” The photo caption: A demonstrator holds a bus hostage In Long Beach, California: Because of the way the bus is built, the demonstrator can't get on. [Italicized] A “caste” of. . . persons has been created [in America]. Members suffer a stigma of abnormality, inferiority, and dependency, are provided with separate facilities and programs, and are encouraged to interact only with others of the same caste. [Italicized ends] —Robert Funk, Director/Attorney, Disability Rights Education and Defense Fund, Inc. [Italicized] Black people started a movement when they were forced to sit in the backs of buses. We're not even allowed on the buses. [Italicized ends] – Julie Haraskin, during a nonviolent direct-action demonstration in Los Angeles by ADAPT (American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit) Barry Giddings is a citizen of the United States who lives in Philadelphia. In 1981, he was shot in the neck and became a quadriplegic. The only way he can get around is in a wheelchair. Until December 10, 1985, he and his brother lived in his mother's home. On that day, Mrs. Giddings and her family were evicted. She went to Philadelphia's Division of Adult Services to get shelter for herself and her sons. Mrs. Giddings was told that she and her nondisabled son would be provided shelter, but Barry Giddings would have to provide for himself. Why? Because he was disabled. The apparatchiks tried to make Mrs. Giddings understand that they had no choice in this matter. Taking care of her disabled son's needs, they explained, would cost more money than was being spent on the average homeless soul in the city's shelters. Then there were the costs of additional insurance premiums to cover the city if this quadriplegic were taken in. Then where should he go? Was this man to be thrown out into the street to lie there until he died? Not our problem, said Philadelphia's Division of Adult Services. Lest you think that the decision to wholly abandon this disabled man was made by some low-level employee devoted to the increasingly popular notion that inconvenient people should be terminated, the person who sent Barry Giddings into the night was following the policy of Philadelphia's Division of Adult Services. A relative arranged to have Giddings taken into Jefferson Hospital for the night because the staff there, unlike the folks at Adult Services, could not bear leaving him without shelter. They put him in the emergency room. The next day, he was removed to Magee Rehabilitation Hospital, although he did not require hospitalization. What he required, was a place to stay, and Magee Rehabilitation Hospital couldn’t keep him because providing shelter wasn't its' function. Barry Giddings, with the help of Stefan Presser, an American Civil Liberties Union attorney, took the city of Philadelphia to court. The class action suit charged that the city policy discriminates against homeless people who are disabled, and thereby violates their Constitutional right to equal protection under the law as well as their rights under Section 504 of the Federal Rehabilitation Act of 1973. That statute forbids discrimination against the handicapped in any program receiving Federal funds, and Philadelphia's Division of Adult Services, as part of the Department of Human Services, does receive Federal money. The city of Philadelphia quickly caved in, placed Giddings in a temporary shelter and said it would find permanent housing for him and his mother. As Stefan Presser points out, a particularly shocking thing about the case was that although the city had been engaged in a vigorous campaign to get the homeless into shelters, it had this firm policy of shutting out the disabled among the homeless. "There's no telling," Presser told me, “how many disabled people have been turned away until we got the policy changed, and who knows what happened to them? Some of the organizations for the disabled inform me that from time to time they've had phone calls from people who have been refused shelter because they're not able-bodied, but when they got to the phone booth from which the call was made, there was no one there." Ralph Ellison's Invisible Man could have a counterpart in the experiences of the nation's disabled for many, many years. As Robert Funk, Director of the Disability Rights, Education and Defense Fund, wrote in 1981: “American society, under the guise of humanitarian efforts, has developed a record, with respect to treatment of disabled persons, that is a history of isolation and discrimination inflicted upon them because of their ‘handicaps.’ This history, manifested in the attitude of ‘out of sight, out of mind,' carried out through policies of custodialism, has resulted in an ostracized, invisible minority denied access to organized society." This year, in his part of a forthcoming book, Images of the Disabled/Disabling Images, Funk makes the corollary point—— and see if any of this applies to you ---- that "the general public does not associate the word 'discrimination' with the segregation and exclusion of disabled people. Most people assume that disabled people are excluded from school or segregated because they cannot learn or because they need special protection. So too, the absence of disabled coworkers is simply considered a confirmation of the obvious fact that disabled people can't work. These assumptions are deeply rooted in history. Historically, the inferior economic and social status of disabled people has been viewed as the inevitable consequence of tho physical and mental differences imposed by disability." I know a young woman whose disability is athetosis, a form of cerebral palsy, which affects her speech and the way she walks. She is a first-class writer --- a published writer --- and a graduate of Harvard Law School. Currently in Hartford, she specializes in state regulation of automobile and homeowners’ insurance. Her name is Lisa Blumberg and she wrote me recently: "If nondisabled adults spent more time talking to disabled adults, they would learn that anatomy is not destiny and never has been." But because many disabled adults are segregated from the rest of the population, misconceptions about them, along with ignorance of who they actually are, continue to create more discrimination. For instance. Michael Landwehr of the Council for Disability Rights in Chicago, born with spina bifida, was disabled during surgery when he was 12. He is a graduate of the University of Illinois. Landwehr watched with great interest when in 1973 Congress enacted Section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act forbidding discrimination against the disabled in any programs or activities that receive Federal funding. So what has Michael Landwehr's life been like since 1973? “I have been denied an apartment based on my disability," he says. “Last year I was uprooted from home when the commuter train I took to work refused to let me continue riding without an attendant. I was told I could not buy a ticket in the first-class section of an airliner unless I also purchased a ticket for an attendant. I have been denied jobs and promotions on the basis of my disability. Every day I am denied access to public transportation. [He is in A wheelchair.] “Hundreds of thousands of disabled persons remain incarcerated in nursing homes and institutions, isolated from every aspect of community life, denied their right to vote, denied the right to education and employment. Disabled people remain the most unemployed and underpaid group in the country. For every dollar earned by a nondisabled white male, a disabled white male earns 52 cents, a disabled minority male earns 25 cents, and a disabled minority woman earns 12 cents." But the disability rights movement is gathering momentum and has already brought about some changes. Accordingly, by the end of this decade, there is likely to be a stretching of public consciousness concerning this form of American apartheid that has largely been ignored during the rise of all the other movements for equal protection under the law-—blacks, women, Native Americans, homosexuals and lesbians, Hispanics, et al. Future columns will include an exploration of the nonviolent direct-action arm of the disability rights movement, which is currently the most vigorous continuation of the Martin Luther King-Saul Alinsky legacy. The series will also go into the history of legislation and court action concerning the disabled; the seemingly infinite ways in which the disabled are distorted, sentimentalized, and underestimated by the press, television, and films; a battery of very specific legislative recommendations by the disabled; and a good deal more. One of the underlying themes is a comment by Vassar Miller, who has published eight volumes of poetry, one of which was nominated for the Pulitzer Prize. In her early sixties now, she was born with cerebral palsy. “What handicaps me far more than my physical condition," she says, “is the reaction society has to it. And, no less important, my reaction to society's reaction." Vassar Miller has edited a new book, Despite This Flesh (University of Texas Press), an extraordinarily illuminating collection of short stories and poems about the disabled. If public television had any imagination, a striking series could be made from Despite This Flesh. It ranges from pungent, poignant, and sharply funny evocations of childhood to a resoundingly erotic poem about a paralyzed man, "Seated Nude" by Richard Ronan. In her introduction, Vassar Miller tells of how, when she was a child, before there was ever such a thing as special education or mainstreaming, her stepmother “had tried to enroll me in a private school. ‘They just looked at me and started talking about God!‘" her stepmother said in dismayed tones when she came home. By the time the 1980s are over, a picket line of the disabled might elbow God aside and change the admissions policies of a school like that. The pressure is rising inside the disabled to break out of their caste, to be visible, to be part of whatever the hell's going on that they want to be part of. Consider ADAPT (American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit). In a number of cities around the country, its members have been demonstrating and getting arrested in protests against the lack of lifts on buses and the absence of ways of enabling the disabled to use other forms of public transportation. On October 6 in Los Angeles, a march of some 280 disabled ended at the Westin Bonaventure Hotel, where the American Public Transit Association was holding a convention. This was the scene, as described in The Disability Rag (Box 145, Louisville, Kentucky): "Attempts by ADAPT members to descend to the main lobby of the Bonaventure on the one elevator connecting the lobby with the street level were met with police resistance. Security forces turned off the elevator and escalators. Police blocked doors to prevent other disabled people from entering the hotel. Chants of ‘We Will Ride!‘ filled the Bonaventure from protesters inside and out. A number of ADAPT marchers, determined that conventioneers would not be able to use the escalators either, tried to block the escalator entrances or to throw themselves down the steps....By Monday, the Bonaventure had become a police-held fortress.“ I bet you never thought disabled people could do anything like that. It's just the beginning. As an ADAPT organizer yelled at a crowd of the disabled in Los Angeles, “We've got to get over our slave mentality!"
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Mainstream magazine, no date listed, p.9. Attachment IV [Story continues in ADAPT 211 and then ADAPT 210 but is included here in its entirety for easier reading. Story seems to be cut off at the end.] Photo bottom half of page: Image of people marching down the center of the street, some carrying signs, one with the ADAPT logo and another saying, “APTA OPPRESSES." Line snakes back out of sight alongside traffic in the back. Wheelchairs are lined up smartly presenting an impressive image. [Headline] ADAPT PUBLIC TRANSIT OR ELSE by Mike Ervin One of the largest civil rights marches in history by people with disabilities was held Sunday, October 7, 1985 in downtown Los Angeles to protest the American Public Transit Association (APTA)'s policy of local option transit for disabled. In response to an “invitation” by American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit (ADAPT) to join in picketing the annual APTA convention, national leaders of the Disability Rights Movement converged at MacArthur Park to roll the 1.7 miles to the convention site at the Bonaventure Hotel. Bill Bolte of the California Association of the Physically Handicapped (CAPH) took a head count of the line of people in wheelchairs rolling single file down the middle of Wilshire Boulevard and announced that there was 215 present. The L.A. Police Department had refused to issue a parade permit to the group and had said it would not allow the long planned parade to be held on the street, but when 200 plus wheelchair users took to the pavement (no curb cuts) all the police could do was route traffic around the procession. It was an impressive sight; more than twice the number of people ADAPT had turned out for previous demonstrations at the annual conventions of APTA. As the line of people stretched more than a block in front of the posh Bonaventure Hotel where APTA was staying, the L.A. Police waited; there wasn’t much they could do except establish their presence. The protesters marched into the hotel lobby taking up most of the available space. Chants of “We will ride!" Filled the atrium below as bewildered hotel guests wondered what all this could possibly be about. The Hotel Security immediately blocked the one wheelchair accessible elevator to the main lobby. This escalated (so to speak) the confrontation, as demonstrators got out of their wheelchairs to block the escalators, saying “if you block our access, then we will block the escalators. No one will be able to use them." Meanwhile the police discussed the strategy of arresting certain people first whom they had identified as leaders. Photo: A man, Bob Kafka, sitting awkwardly, almost falling out of his manual wheelchair, apparently handcuffed behind his back. His legs are falling under the chair, and he is surrounded by four or more police officers. Article continues: Eight people, one woman and seven men, were arrested and booked without charges. The police told the media that the charge was “refusing to leave the scene of a riot.” The woman arrestee was released Sunday night, five of the men were released the following afternoon, and the last two men were released Tuesday morning after 53 disabled individuals held an all night vigil outside the county jail. On Tuesday morning, the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU), represented by Lou Nau, the chairman of the Disability Rights Committee of the ACLU, outlined the treatment that the arrestees faced. Four of the men were handcuffed behind their backs and left to sit in the police vehicles for up to five hours. Mike Auburger, a quadriplegic, was not allowed to use the bathroom for eight hours, causing hyperreflexia. Individuals on sustaining medication repeatedly asked for their medication, but never received it. Nau said to permit no bail for misdemeanor offenses is clearly against the law. Although APTA tried to discredit the protestors as a “small militant group of outsiders," they represented a wide spectrum of the Disability Rights Movement including Robert Funk, Executive Director of the Disability Rights and Education Defense Fund; Michael Winter, Director of the Center for Independent Living, Berkeley, CA; Judy Heumann, of the World Institute on Disability; Joe Zenzola, President, California Association of the Physically Handicapped; Peg Nosek, of Independent Living Research Utilization Project, Houston, TX; Catherine Johns, President of The Association on Handicapped Student Service Programs in Post-Secondary Education; John Chapples, Department of Rehabilitation, Boston, MA; Mark Johnson, Department of Rehabilitation, Denver, CO; Marco Bristo, Director, Access Living, Chicago, IL; Harlan Hahn, Professor, University of Southern California; and Don Galloway, D.C. Center for Independent Living. The following days saw many more protests in the Los Angeles area. On Wednesday, about 50 individuals arrived at the office of Larry Jackson, Director of the Long Beach Transit Authority, who is the incoming President of APTA. After being denied a meeting with him, they went out into the streets. The police gave them l0 minutes to disburse or be arrested. When no one moved, the police proceeded to arrest the protestors and take them to jail in 6 dial-a-ride vans. These individuals were booked and then released, as it was not possible for the Long Beach Police Department to accommodate so many disabled people. The passers-by had many different reactions to what they were experiencing; some were mad at being detained, some joined in. One man gave protestors a banner which read “help” and proceeded to distribute little American.... [rest of the article is not available.] Three photos. Photo 1: At the bottom of an escalator a mass of people in wheelchairs gathered together, Julie Farrar in the center, holding a picket sign: “APTA DESTROYED 504”. Photo 2: A man, Chris Hronis, lying on his side on the floor, handcuffed behind his back, surrounded by four or more police standing over him. Photo 3: Through the window of a van you see two man, Chris Hronis in back and Bob Kafka in front of him, sitting in wheelchairs. Both are handcuffed behind their backs.
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Logo of a sun. The Arizona Republic April 13, 1987, Phoenix, Arizona [This story continues in ADAPT 314 but the entire text is included here for easier reading.] PHOTO by David Petkiewicz/Republic: A large group of people are standing, heading into the Hyatt Regency Hotel. Among those standing some people in wheelchairs are visible, and a reporter is there with a camera. Caption reads: Wheelchair-bound protesters and their supporters gather at the Hyatt Regency in downtown Phoenix. The group converged on the American Public Transit Association's convention at the hotel last week. Title: Driven by anger, disabled man has fought long, hard for access. By CHUCK HAWLEY The Arizona Republic Mike Landwehr pushes his own wheelchair, but it's really anger that drives the wheels. "Every day, my anger is brought forward again when l have to push my wheelchair 10 blocks in my own hometown,“ said Landwehr, a Chicago man who has been arrested a dozen or more times since 1978 while demonstrating for access to public transportation for the disabled. “I'm running out of patience.” Landwehr spent much of last week in Phoenix as a spokesman for American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit. The Denver-based group has a reputation of “getting in the face" of public officials by creating ruckuses at meetings of the American Public Transit Association, a group Landwehr describes as "the enemy." Surrounding hotels, restaurants and buses where transportation officials meet, ADAPT members express demands in rhythmic chants: “What do we want? "Access! “When do we want it? "Now!" It is, the group says, a civil-rights demonstration. Howard Adams is not driven by anger, although he was paralyzed from the neck down in a swimming accident 20 years ago. Adams, a Phoenix councilman, said disability is something he lives with, but he doesn't thrive on it. "I‘m not an expert on it,“ Adams said, “it's not the most important thing in my life." He disagrees with the civil-disobedience tactics used by ADAPT. "I guess I pour my anger into other things," he said. Adams, who served in the Arizona Legislature before his election to the City Council, recently was appointed by President Reagan to the 22-member Architectural and Transportation Compliance Board. The board oversees enforcement of federal regulations governing access for the disabled. It can recommend withholding federal funds from any organization or local government that fails to meet federal requirements for access, Adams said. Although Adams does not use city buses regularly, he said, he has used them and believes Phoenix "is in pretty good shape" with respect to disabled people. The demonstrators, he says, have a beef with the American Public Transportation Association, not with Phoenix. "The goal has always been equal opportunity and to participate in all aspects of life as best as they can," Adams said. "I agree with their goals, but I don't agree with their tactics. "They were not here to point a finger at Phoenix. They were here to protest to a group that provides public transportation to people around the country." Public transportation in Phoenix is inadequate for all people, not just the disabled, Adams said. "If I wanted to go to the council chambers right now, (8:30 p.m.) I couldn't get there on the bus anyway," he said. "If I were in a city with a higher population density, such as Chicago or New York, it would be a different story. I would expect to be able to." Adams said there appear to be "some people who are professionally disabled just like there are people who will always be soldiers in World War II." "We all carry burdens with us, but we have to overcome them," he said. "You can't take away all of the problems everybody has; you just can't. "But, to the extent that society has created barriers, you have to remove them, and I think we are doing it here." Because he uses a lift-equipped van, Adams does not ride Phoenix buses often, but he said he is not unfamiliar with the difficulty of getting from one city to another. In Los Angeles recently, he said, he was told that he could board a plane in a folding wheelchair and that his battery-operated machine would have to be left behind for a later flight in a baggage compartment. "I have trouble with airlines," he said. "They don't care. They just want to get you out of there." When his motorized chair arrived in Phoenix on a later plane, he said, "there was $2,000 in damage to it." Landwehr, 43, was born with spinal bifida, a severe birth defect that now often is correctable. New surgical techniques came too late for him, however. He lost the use of his legs during surgery when he was 12 years old. Landwehr remembers that he once tried to deny his disability, shun his wheelchair and be like everyone else. "I would get myself seated in a restaurant and ask the waitress to take my chair away and fold it up in a corner," he said. "It was a way of being like everyone else. Deep down, disabled people strive to appear not disabled.” It was painful, he said, when his parents had to move from Chicago because he could not attend public high schools there with able-bodied teen-agers. The family moved 60 miles to the suburbs after rejecting the Chicago school system's offer to provide a special bus to pick him up and deliver him to a school for the handicapped, the only school he said school officials would allow him to attend. "Thank God they (his parents) knew I would only learn to live in an institution," he said. In the suburbs, Landwehr said, he struggled to lift himself into a school bus unequipped for handicapped people. Daily, he lifted himself up the school steps as other teen-agers watched. "I know what it is like to be stared at," he said. "It's painful." It also is painful, he said, that Chicago, the nation's third-most-populous city, after New York and Los Angeles, has no city buses with wheelchair lifts for the disabled. Landwehr said that the daily difficulty of overcoming obstacles just to gain access to places others take for granted has hardened his stance for total access. He is militant. Arrests and abuse do not appear to faze him. Embarrassing others and taking the risk of alienating the public also do not seem to faze him. "There is nobody more alienated than people living in little rooms in institutions," Landwehr said. "We want to expose the public to the full range of people who are disabled. "I think our presence here at least gives the public the opportunity to reflect upon their perceptions of disabilities and disabled people. "We hope that a byproduct of our presence will give us some leverage with local politicians." Landwehr, who studied journalism and psychology at the University of Illinois but didn't earn a degree, is unemployed. He once worked with the Disability Rights Defense Fund in Washington, D.C., until federal funding for the group was cut. "We fooled them, though," he said. "Twenty-two of us started collecting Social Security disability checks and just kept on working, doing what we had been doing until the money ran out." Public officials sometimes complain that the cost of total access for the disabled is too great and the need too small. Landwehr says he doesn't believe it. For example, Milwaukee once touted the purchase of lift-equipped buses but operated them randomly on unannounced routes. Photos above: head shots of Howard Adams in white shirt and tie, and Mike Landwher with flannel shirt and mustache. Caption reads: Howard Adams (left) and Mike Landwehr both are disabled, but Adams disagrees with the civil-disobedience tactics used by Landwehr's group.
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The New York Times Sunday March 18, 1990 Growth of a Civil Rights Movement The Disabled Find a Voice and Make Sure It Is Heard by Steven A. Holmes Doing whatever it takes to fulfill the promise of a landmark Federal law. WASHINGTON THE pictures were striking, just as they were intended to be: Children paralyzed from the waist down crawling up the steps of the Capitol, and more than 100 protesters, most in wheelchairs, being arrested by police officers in riot gear after a raucous demonstration in the Rotunda. The aim of the demonstration was to press for enactment of the Americans with Disabilities Act, a comprehensive civil rights bill that extends to physically and mentally disabled individuals the same protections against biased treatment in employment, transportation and public accommodations now accorded women and minorities. You can view disability rights as one of the latest chapters in the overall civil rights movement,” said Wayne Sailor, a professor of special education at San Francisco State University. It was not always so. For years, the agenda for the disabled was set by organizations like the March of Dimes and the Easter Seals Foundation, which focused on providing services for the disabled and prying money loose from government and individuals to find cures for such illnesses as cerebral palsy. In the last two decades, however, the attitude of those with disabilities has shifted from being passive recipients of institutional largess and paternalism to demanding a full role in society. “We're not Tiny Tims, or Jerry’s kids," said Bob Kafka, a quadriplegic from Austin, Tex., as he demonstrated outside the White House last week. The disability rights movement was shaped by' a number of scientific, cultural and political forces. In many ways, it is a by-product of the technological revolution. Breakthroughs in medicine, the development of computers that allow the hearing and speech impaired to use telephones, and advancements in motorized wheelchairs have meant more people with severe handicaps live longer, can do more for themselves and have the potential for enjoying fuller lives. "There are people with serious spinal cord injuries who used to die within two weeks that now live 30 or 40 years," said Dr. Frank Bowe, a deaf scholar whose 1978 book “Handicapping America" is to the disability rights movement what Betty Friedan's “The Feminist Mystique" was to the women's movement. “It’s one thing to say we have this marvelous technology, but if nobody‘s going to hire you, what's the point?” As the most efficient means of creating disabled people, wars have always been a factor in advancing the disability rights movement, and Vietnam was a main force. The war added a large number of disabled veterans, already angry over America's indifference to their sacrifice in Southeast Asia, to an army of people with disabilities demanding fairer treatment. The Library of Congress, for example, estimates there are 43 million Americans with some form of disability. In l973, after two vetoes by President Richard M. Nixon, Congress passed Section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act, which barred discrimination against the disabled by any entity receiving Federal funds. But no regulations were written to put it into effect until 1978, after advocates staged a 28-day sit-in. Entrenched Barriers But barriers remained entrenched in the private sector, where the bulk of the new jobs were created in the last decade. "We had no rights at all there," Dr. Bowe said. During the l980's, the disability rights movement struck an alliance with traditional civil rights and feminist groups. As a result, for the first time, discrimination against the disabled was barred in the sale or rental of housing, “Standing alone, we could not have done that," said Pat Wright, director of the Disability Rights Education and Defense Fund, who is legally blind. “But wrapped in the arms of the civil rights community we had a lot more power." The movement has also gained sympathetic ears both on Capitol Hill and in the Bush Administration. Officials and lawmakers who have relatives with various afflictions are more responsive, as are politicians who are increasingly aware that the votes of the disabled are up for grabs. That point became clear after the Republican National Convention in 1988, when, in his acceptance speech, Mr. Bush became the first Presidential candidate to address the problems of the disabled directly. A poll by Louis Harris and Associates taken after Mr. Bush's speech showed that the lead Michael S. Dukakis held over Mr. Bush among disabled voters fell to 10 points, from 33. But advocates say they have just begun. Just as the Government can pass laws that end racial discrimination, but not racism, it can outlaw biased treatment of the disabled but mot mandate acceptance of them. “You can't legislate attitudes," said Ms. Wright. “But the attitudinal barriers will drop the more disabled people are employed, the more they can be seen on the street and when we become not just a silent minority, but full participating members of society. Photo (from Associated Press): Looking up from the ground toward the dome of the Capitol in the background. In front a person in a wheelchair, back to the camera, holds the ADAPT flag. In front of the flag a man, Walter Hart, in a wheelchair with a bandanna tied around his head and dark sunglasses looks toward the first person. On the right side of the photo another man in a wheelchair, Joe Carle, sits talking with the other two. Caption: Rally near the Capitol last week to press for a bill extending rights for the disabled.
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Independen Life Spring 1990 Article 1: Urgent Call to Action! Pass Strong ADA Now! ADA needs you! And your family, your neighbors and your colleagues — to flood Washington with appeals for justice, today and everyday, until the president signs a strong ADA! Representative Lynn Martin 815/987-4326 (local) 202/225-5674 (Wash.D.C.) 1208 Longworth Office Building Washington D.C. 20515 NO TDD AVAILABLE Lynn Martin (R-IL) must hear from as many of us as possible for two very important reasons: 1) She is a member of the House Rules committee, which determines what version of the ADA reaches the House floor. Tell her you support the Senate version of the bill. 2) Martin, who is not an ADA co-sponsor will be running for the senate this fall. Let her know that we need her support. Contact Martin and all the Illinois House members today to urge their support of a strong ADA. NO WEAKENING AMENDMENTS! The grassroots efforts targeted at the U.S. House of Representatives will determine whether the ADA is ultimately enacted in the strongest form possible. Weakening amendments are expected. Our opponents will not give up. LET'S NOT STOP NOW! If you have sent letters to the President, Speaker Foley and Minority Leader Michel, send them each two more. If you have sent cards to members of Congress, send some more. If you have visited your Congressional office with five friends, visit again with more friends, and call every week to check on the progress of the ADA. (See page 5 for The ADA Western Union Hotline Number.) PHOTO Two women smile at the camera. The woman on the right has a sign behind her head that reads "PASS ADA WITH NO WEAKENING AMENDMENTS." The other woman holds her hand in a partially raised fist. Behind both is a third woman in the shadows, who is also smiling. Caption reads: Access Living's (l to r) Bobbie Boyce- Williams, Beverly Gonzalez and Pearl Mathews support the March 12th rally in D.C. at Chicago's rally for the ADA held in the Federal Plaza. Groups through-out the country held similar rallies on the same day. PHOTO: A line of protesters in a line at the front of the ADA March, chanting as they go. On far left two older women carry a huge poster. To their right and in front George Roberts carries a poster reading "We Shall Overcome." To his right Stephanie Thomas wheels her manual chair with a sign over her legs that reads "Access is a Civil Right". Holding on to the back of her chair is Frank Lozano who is also holding the harness of his dog guide Frazier. To their right is Jennifer Keelan, a girl of about 8 years who is partially standing in her chair as she chants. An older woman (her grandmother?) is pushing the chair. She and Frank are wearing ADAPT bandannas as headbands. To their right is her little sister Kaylee, walking and holding the handle of Jennifer's chair. Stephanie, Frank, Jennifer and Kaylee are wearing ADAPT T-shirts with the no steps logo. Behind them on the right side of the street is a huge building with columns along its side. Caption reads: Close to 1,000 people joined the "Wheels of Justice" march to the Capitol, March 12, 1990. PHOTO: Looking up from below at the dome of the Capitol against the sky. In front is a huge banner reading "Injustice Anywhere is a Threat to Justice Everywhere" Martin Luther King, JR. Quote beside photo: "It was great to see the unity among the disabled people there. It was an honor to be arrested and serve time with my colleagues." -- Michael Winter, Berkeley, CA President - National Council on Independent Living, NCIL. PHOTO: Picture of Cassie James squished between the back of a power wheelchair and a desk, holding on so she can sit up. Over her head three other protesters (Erik von Schmetterling, Carol Marfisi and Kent Killam) sit on the floor against another desk. Caption reads: Sit-in at Congressman Shuster's office. PHOTO: Marchers in wheelchairs, scooters and walking make their way up toward the Capitol building. In their midst is the ADAPT flag. One man is bent over helping a person in a manual wheelchair. In the foreground a person in a wheelchair has a sign on the back of their seat that reads: Basic access to every new home. The rest is unreadable, but is the basic tenants of Visitability from the group Concrete Change. Quote below picture: "We are not asking for our rights, we are taking them." -- Barbara. Jersey City, NJ ADAPT Member PHOTO: ADAPT members in front of the White House. In the foreground a man and woman in wheelchairs sit talking. Others are on the sidewalk around them, and behind them all is a line of ADAPT protesters with their wheelchairs backed up to the fence. Quote under photo: “The best part of it was that for once we brought every different type of advocate together to form a unified force for change. There was everyone from rehabilitation professionals to independent living staff to congressional staffers to A.D.A.P.T. It really demonstrated the potential power we possess." -- Chuck Graham, Springfield. IL, Coalition of Citizens with Disabilities in Illinois. PHOTO: A slightly jumbled line of people in wheelchairs on the sidewalk next to a major boulevard. Behind them are other people standing and in wheelchairs, An ADAPT flag and another flag appear to be affixed to a nearby light pole. Toward the back of the picture someone is holding a sign reading "ADA NOW." Folks in the front of the shot are from Chicago ADAPT; most are wearing T-Shirts with the old ADAPT, no steps, logo and the woman in the very front has the Chicago ADAPT "ADAPT or Perish" T-shirt (partially obscured.) Caption reads: Joining the marchers are Dr. I. King Jordon, Paulette Patterson from Chicago, Congressman Major Owens, Justin Dart Jr. and Michael Winter, N.C.I.L. President. Quote beside photo: "I continue to feel empowered by having seen our people, in spite of most perceptions to the contrary, “stand up" for their rights." W. Michael Yeager. Washington D.C., Photographer Article 2 (The full text of this article, photos and captions appear here, in the photos it is on 536, 525 and 520): ACCESS LIVING JOINS RALLY AND MARCH ON NATION'S CAPITOL The biggest-ever national non-violent direct action sponsored by A.D.A.P.T. in support of disability rights and the Americans with Disabilities Act occurred in Washington D. C. March 12-14. The weather was unusually hot. Chicago represented one of the largest contingencies. Beto Barrera, Mike Ervin, Nancy Kelen, Ginger Lane, Rebecca Lanen, Rene Luna. Susan Nussbaum, Tom Rafferty, Judith Savage and Ora Schub represented Access Living at the historic event. MARCH 12 THE MARCH AND RALLY ON CAPITOL HILL MARCH 13 163 DISABLED PROTESTERS SEIZED AND 104 ARRESTED FOR REFUSING TO LEAVE THE CAPITOL MARCH 14 45 PEOPLE ARRESTED FOR TAKING OVER CONGRESSMEN SHUSTER'S OFFICE Photo: Marchers headed down an Avenue in DC, some are in chairs and two smiling men in white shirts and ties are in the foreground. One has his power fist raised and the other is holding a sign that says "National Association of the Deaf NAD. To: Congress, Re: ADA, Just Do It!" Caption 1 reads: "It was great being part of this movement and using our power to make things change." -- Rebecca Lanet. Chicago. IL, Access Living. Caption 2 reads: Access Living's Susan Nussbaum (far left) with DREDF's Marilyn Golden at the march. Photo: I. King Jordan standing at the plaza on the Capitol steps. Behind him you can see the top of the fountain and the upper level balcony of the Capitol as well as some fancy archways. He has a microphone in front of him and he is smiling as he addresses the crowd. Caption reads: “The time to pass this bill is now. We can wait no longer" Dr. I. King Jordan, Washington DC, President Gallaudet University A quote: "Together we shall overcome" Photo: A boy in wheelchair (Kyle Glozier) with a communication device on his lapboard. He is wearing several buttons and an ADAPT shirt. Hanging from the front of his lap board is a poster reading "We will Ride." Caption reads: An Americans Disabled for Accessible Public Transportation (A.D.A.P.T.) member. Photo: The Capitol rotunda crammed with people in wheelchairs and a few people standing. On the wall in the back is a life-sized black statue of a man from some olden times, and a humongous painting in a gilt frame. Everyone is looking toward a man in a suit who is standing next to someone doing sign language interpreting. Caption reads: “It was the most incredible amount of power a group of disabled people ever held over its government. We closed down the Capitol while people were being arrested. All visitors and staff were turned away from the Hill for several hours. Speaker of the House Foley and Minority Leader Michel who only meet in the rotunda for state occasions both came to the rotunda together to meet with us. I guess you could say that ADAPT actions are definitely occasions. " Mike Auberger. Denver, CO, ADAPT Member Photo: The dome of the Capitol rises in the background and below it is the ADAPT flag. People in wheelchairs being pushed, in power chairs, people walking, all heading toward the Capitol. Photo: Looking down into the crowd one can see the mix of people. Several are gathered around Dr. I. King Jordan. Others are sitting or standing listening or waiting. There are 2 men with mouth driven wheelchairs, one of whom is Tim Baker. There is a woman in a miniskirt and a sports wheelchair. Mike Ervin is kind of in the middle foreground. Caption reads: Michael Ervin (foreground) was among one of the 10 Access Living staff members at the A.D.A.P.T. action. Ervin is past president of Chicago's ADAPT group. Photo: Five people in wheelchairs and one standing person look toward a van. The standing woman appears to be clapping and Eleanor Smith (one of the folks in chairs) has her power fist raised. A scooter in the foreground has a Concrete Change sticker on it. Behind the group you can see the front of the Capitol, the side facing the Supreme Court and Library of Congress. Caption reads: "The impact we made was phenomenal. By arresting 104 disability rights activists, the police facilitated a very empowering situation. For eight hours as we waited to be processed through the system, we met new co-advocates, argued, debated and strengthened our political power." -- Ginger Lane, Chicago, Access Living
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June 12, 1990 - Guardian. 5 Disabled 'ecstatic' as rights act clears House By DIANE COLEMAN The Americans with Disabilities Act, considered by many to be the most sweeping civil rights legislation since the 1964 Civil Rights Act, easily cleared the House of Representatives May 22. It is expected to reach the president‘s desk by July 4. The act prohibits discrimination based on disability in public accommodations, employment, transportation and telecommunications. It is intended to address "rampant, daily discrimination in every sphere of American life,“ Rep. Pat Schroeder, D-Colo., told her colleagues on the House floor. “Mentally retarded persons are kept out of restaurants. Persons with cerebral palsy are turned away from theaters. . . . Employers cite fears of hiring disabled persons because their customers will feel uncomfortable or even repulsed,” Schroeder added. Despite strong opposition from private business and transportation lobbies, chief among them the National Federation of Independent Businesses and Greyhound Lines, Inc. , the Americans With Disabilities Act achieved bipartisan support in both houses of Congress. The House vote was 403-29. Under pressure from the NFIB and the National Restaurant Association, the House version of the bill was amended at the last minute to allow employers to remove people with HIV infection from food handling positions. Sponsored by Rep. Jim Chapman, the amendment passed narrowly, although the Texas Democrat conceded there is no “evidence that‘AIDS can be transferred in the process of handling food.” Tom Sheridan of AIDS Action, representing 500 community-based service organizations, predicted that the Chapman amendment would go down to defeat in the House-Senate conference committee. “It’s a horrible amendment for all people with disabilities because . . . it begins to codify the fact that irrational fear is protected by the law,” he said. Nonetheless at press time Senate conferees had agreed to include the restrictions. “Cheers and tears” filled the House gallery at the moment of the ADA's long-awaited passage, according to Tennessee disabled activist Michael Gibson, “but we all know that the bill is only a first step. Several agencies will be writing key regulations which offer innumerable opportunities to weaken the effect of this legislation,” Gibson said. SOME DELAYS, FEW LOSSES While many activists feared the House would water down the Senate version of the bill, Marilyn Golden of the Disability Rights Education and Defense Fund said that the ADA “has not been weakened anywhere near the extent that much legislation is. " According to Golden, who has worked intensively for the bill's passage over the last two years, various timetables and phase-in provisions were adopted to avoid other forms of compromise. The ADA’s protections against employment discrimination, which parallel those applied to federally funded entities since 1973, do not go into effect for two years. Prohibitions against discrimination in public accommodations, such as theaters and restaurants, will require accessibility in facilities “construct[ed] . . . for first occupancy no later than 30 months after the date of enactment." Telephone companies will have three years to put in place a relay service for deaf people and others who depend on non-voice telecommunication. A requirement that all new public buses be lift-equipped will take effect in only 30 days. Many attribute this to seven years of non-violent civil disobedience by the American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit. Greyhound, a private carrier, was given six years to begin replacing its retired buses with accessible ones. Activists also waged a last-minute battle over employment discrimination remedies. Recently proposed legislation would add damages to the relief available to discrimination victims under Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964. In the face of this, Golden said. the Bush administration tried “to renege on its agreement for parallelism” between the ADA and the 1964 act. It backed an amendment that would have kept remedies for disability-based discrimination at current levels if and when discrimination remedies are increased for other minority groups and women. The amendment was narrowly defeated just prior to the final vote on the bill itself. Overall, Golden said. “We're ecstatic." The ADA “will hopefully begin to convey to the American public. left, center and right (because in some ways I don't think the consciousness of the left is any better), that disability is not a personal issue, that there’s a systematic oppression of people with disabilities. . . . Even Congress has faced the fact of the systematic discrimination. " PHOTO (by Tom Olin): A closer view of a mass of marchers coming around a huge tree on a broad sidewalk leading up to the Capitol. Stephanie Thomas, Frank Lozano, Jennifer Keelan and others lead the march which is 12 across in some places and scattered in others. The ADAPT flag (an American Flag with the stars arranged in the wheelchair symbol instead of in rows) flies over the crowd from a few rows back. Some people are in suits and ties, some in T-shirts. Some are in wheelchairs, some carry cameras; children to older folks are in the mix. Caption reads: Seven years of nonviolent civil disobedience by the American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit has been credited for the requirement that all new buses be lift-equipped. Above, ADAPT march on U.S. Capitol.
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US NEWS AND WORLD REPORT Sept. 18, 1989 [This story appears in ADAPT 595, 590 and 602. It is included in its entirety here for ease of reading.] [Headline] Liberation day for the disabled by Joseph P. Shapiro Forty-three million will soon win basic civil-rights protections. Their growing movement has brushed aside the opposition and is changing America The day before the Senate passed historic legislation to protect the civil rights of disabled people, Mary Jane Owen got another rude reminder of the daily discrimination that faces people like her. Owen, a writer who is blind and uses a wheelchair, was lobbying senators for the disability-rights bill. But when she moved onto Constitution Avenue to go home, a taxi driver at curbside sped away rather than pick up a woman in a wheelchair. It is similar acts, repeated hundreds of thousands of times a day to the nation's 43 million disabled, that fueled an angry political movement that has brought the nation to a path-breaking moment. In a few weeks President Bush is expected to sign the Americans with Disabilities Act, a broad statement that will extend to the disabled the same protections against discrimination that were given to blacks and women in the 1960s and 1970s. The Senate passed the measure 76 to 8 last week, and the House is likely to approve it next month. The bill is a profound rethinking of how this country views disabled people, defined as anyone with a physical or mental impairment that "substantially limits" everyday living. For the first time, America is saying the biggest problem facing disabled people is not their own blindness, deafness or other physical condition but discrimination. The bill, says Senate sponsor Tom Harkin (D-Iowa), is "an emancipation proclamation for people with handicaps" that will fundamentally change their lives, getting more of them out of their homes and institutions and into full participation in society. Under the new law, restaurants, stores, hotels and theaters can no longer turn away a person with cerebral palsy, epilepsy, AIDS or any other disability. Employers would be prohibited from rejecting qualified workers just because they are disabled, and they would be required to fashion generally inexpensive modifications to the workplace to make it accessible to the disabled, such as putting a desk on blocks to raise it for a wheelchair user. It would also require that new buses be equipped with lifts so that wheelchair users could get on public transit. New buildings, or those undergoing major reconstruction, would have to be made accessible to disabled people, with elevators installed in shopping malls and new structures higher than two stories. Telephone companies would have to hire operators who could take a message typed by a deaf person on a Telecommunications Device for the Deaf (TDD) and then relay it orally to a hearing person on another phone. [Subheading] Cost of Access. Businesses, particularly small ones, are wary of the changes. John Sloan, president of the National Federation of Independent Business, complained that the bill will impose costly requirements on businesses" and is "so broadly written" that it is unclear how far, and to what expense, a business will have to go to avoid being open to a lawsuit. Sponsors of the bill said estimates that its implementation might cost billions of dollars were wildly exaggerated. Past experience shows they may be correct. When Congress in 1973 protected disabled people from discrimination by institutions that receive federal funding, North Carolina education officials estimated it would cost them $15 billion to make state university buildings accessible, says architect Ronald Mace of Barrier Free Environments. Instead, many changes were simple and cheap. To accommodate students in wheelchairs, classes were moved to ground floors rather than installing elevators to carry them to top floors. The cost so far has totaled $l5 million, says Mace. Similarly, a 1982 study for the Labor Department found that half the accommodations made in the workplace cost little or nothing. For example, it was easy for companies to change a wheelchair user's work hours to conform with the schedule of lift-equipped buses. Another 30 percent of the accommodations were achieved for between $100 and $500. That included such changes as giving a telephone head-set to a quadriplegic telephone operator. Despite the concerns of business groups, their opposition to a bill that would open them up to a new spate of lawsuits was surprisingly muted and not nearly as vociferous as their fight against the 1964 Civil Rights Act. For one thing, no one wanted to look like a bigot fighting a civil-rights bill, particularly one that was rushing through Congress. More important, businesses in the last few years have seen disabled people as a new source of labor and customers. “If they can get to the stores, business is going to increase" says the U.S. Chamber of Commerce‘s Nancy Fulco, who nonetheless lobbied to limit the rights bill's impact on business. [Subheading] Hidden Army. The mixed feelings of business groups underscored how disability rights is a civil-rights movement different from any other. Unlike the black and women's movements, disability-rights groups have never filled the streets with hundreds of thousands of marchers. Instead, the disability movement boasts “a hidden army,“ says former Representative Tony Coelho, who has epilepsy. Since a fifth of the nation's population has some form of disability, ranging from mental retardation to severe arthritis, Coelho argues, “disability impacts practically every family.“ Nowhere was that clearer than in Congress and the White House. where key supporters of the rights bill felt a particular need to win the bill‘s passage because they personally know about disabilities. Most important was President Bush, who has two sons with disabilities. Bush's strong statements in support of the bill during the 1988 campaign won him important support in the usually Democratic disability community. Nevertheless, the rights bill was in trouble until mid-June because of business fears about its cost. Then, on the day he left Congress, Coelho called Bush to ask him to renew his commitment to the bill. Within a few weeks, White House Chief of Staff John Sununu convened a strategy session with key senators to negotiate a compromise. That was easy to achieve once sponsors agreed to the White House request they drop the provision that would have allowed the disabled to sue for punitive damages if they were discriminated against. a provision that was the most opposed by business lobbies. From that moment, the compromise bill has been on a fast track. The success of the disability movement is extraordinary because it sprang up with little noise and little notice. One essential ingredient has been the growth of a new class consciousness among the disabled. Seventy-four percent of them feel they share a “common identity” with other disabled people, and 45 percent argue that they are “a minority in the same sense as are blacks and Hispanics,” according to a 1985 poll by Louis Harris & Associates. “All disabled people share one common experience—discrimination,” says Pat Wright of the Disability Rights, Education and Defense Fund. Often it is crude bigotry. In January, an airline employee in New York who resented having to help a 66-year-old double amputee board a plane instead threw him on a baggage dolly. A New Jersey private-zoo owner a few summers ago refused to admit children with Down syndrome to the monkey house because, he claimed, they upset his chimpanzees. It is that kind of outrage and countless more subtle discriminations that fueled the movement that now wants to change the image of the disabled. Many now reject the traditional attitudes of society that suggested their lives were tragic and pitiful. Many now loathe charitable appeals such as the annual Jerry Lewis Telethon that raised $42 million for the Muscular Dystrophy Association over Labor Day weekend. Such extravaganzas seek funds by emphasizing the most desperate cases. That kind of approach, activists say, suggests that disabled people are to be cared for and cannot be contributing members of society. “We don’t want to be dependent any more,” says Lex Friedan of the Institute for Rehabilitation and Research Foundation in Houston, who is a quadriplegic wheelchair user, the result of an automobile accident. “We want to be part of society in every way.” Such new attitudes reflect fundamental changes in the lives of disabled people. Since 1975, when federal law first ensured all disabled children access to schools, hundreds of thousands of disabled students have gotten a better education alongside nondisabled peers. Many grew frustrated after college, when they found there were few such protections to help once they tried to find jobs. A recent Census Bureau study concluded that the gap between the earnings of disabled and their nondisabled co-workers is growing. A disabled worker in 1987 made only 64 percent of what his nondisabled colleagues earned. In 1980, it was 77 percent. The 1985 Harris survey found that 70 percent of working-age disabled people were unemployed. Of those, two thirds said they wanted to work but were prevented from doing so because, among other reasons, they faced discrimination in hiring or lacked transportation. Those who do not work now collect federal disability and welfare checks, costing nearly $60 billion a year. “It doesn’t make sense to maintain people in a dependency state when those people want to be productive, tax-paying citizens,” argues Jay Rochlin of the President’s Committee on Employment of People with Disabilities. Although no one knows precisely how many millions of dollars could be saved by bringing the disabled fully into the work force, Sylvia Piper, an Ankeny, Iowa, mother, says she saved taxpayers $4.8 million by ignoring physicians who urged her to institutionalize her retarded son, Dan, when he was born. Instead, she kept him at home and sent him to public school with non-disabled children, the kind of role models who inspired him to get a job this summer. Dan, now 18, saved $800 from his pay as a drugstore stockroom worker. His first purchase was a gray bedroom rug, upon which he slept the night it arrived. The next morning he was ready for work early and announced, “I've got to work harder and make more money." Once again, says his delighted mother, Dan grew when faced with a challenge. The nation’s changing demographics have added to the urgency of meeting the needs of the disabled. By 1990, there will be 6.2 million elderly Americans with one or more basic disabilities, up from almost 5 million in 1984, according to estimates by the Urban Institute, a research organization. And the explosive growth of the number of those with AIDS and HIV infection has already added hundreds of thousands more disabled to the population. That is why AIDS-policy advocates teamed up with disability groups to make sure civil-rights guarantees under the bill also applied to those with AIDS. People with AIDS had won federal court rulings protecting them under existing disability-rights laws, which apply only to federally funded programs. The new bill will expand that protection to the private sector, so that people with AIDS and HIV infection cannot be fired from jobs or denied service in restaurants. [Subheading] Galvanizing Issue. Along with being better educated and more independent, the new generation of disabled people has become more politically sophisticated. Some 200 independent-living centers, which have sprung up since the 1970s to provide a mix of counseling and support services to severely disabled people, became bases of advocacy. One galvanizing issue came in the early 19805, when a Reagan administration anti-regulation effort tried to eliminate key federal protections that prohibit discrimination by any program or contractor receiving federal funds. Negotiating sessions over the regulation first brought then Vice President Bush face-to-face with Evan Kemp, who headed Ralph Nader’s Disability Rights Center. The regulation was never changed, in part because of Kemp’s advocacy and growing friendship with Bush. Last week, the President named Kemp, a member of the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission since 1987, to chair the civil-rights agency, which will handle job-discrimination cases brought under the new law. The disability-rights movement is distinctive, too, because it has never had a Martin Luther King or a Betty Friedan to lead it. Part of the reason is that there are hundreds of different disabilities. Nonetheless, disabled people, such as student protesters who last year gave Gallaudet University its first deaf president, I. King Jordan, are now adopting on a small scale the protest tactics of the civil-rights movement. Thirty members of American Disabled for Accessible Public Transportation, which uses tactics of civil disobedience, on Labor Day backed their wheelchairs against buses at the Los Angeles Greyhound terminal and disrupted busy holiday traffic in a protest for wheelchair lifts on buses. As the historic legislation was being debated, there was a curious twist. Watching with interest was a paraplegic visitor from Moscow, Ilya Zaslavski. He made history earlier this year when he won election to the new Soviet national legislature, the first person anywhere in the world to run as a disability candidate. Zaslavski watched the work of Congress and announced plans to introduce SDA—-a Soviets with Disabilities Act. INSERTED TEXT BOX: THE COST FACTOR Businesses are concerned about the costs imposed by the civil-rights bill: BUILDINGS: The cost of making accessible new buildings and those existing structures that are undergoing major renovations runs between 0 and 1 percent of building costs. TRANSIT: Changes required of bus and transit systems to help the disabled over the next 20 years might cost several hundred million dollars. PHONES: It will cost $250 million to $300 million a year to hire operators to work relay systems so deaf people can communicate with those who can hear, according to federal and AT&T estimates. INSERT: PHOTO (Roberta Barnes -- San Antonio Light): A line of people in wheelchairs diagonally crosses the picture. In the front Lonnie Smith Archuleta with his buff physique, in a T-Shirt with a medal-like imprint on the front, wheels his sports chair. Behind him a slight woman (Diane Coleman) with very thin arms and leg braces on her extended legs, rolls her power chair with a flag attached. She wears a straw hat, red ADAPT no steps T-shirt and long red skirt, across which she wears a sign reading "Gentler -n- kinder nation??" Behind her another woman in a power wheelchair (Linda Johnstone) wears a different red ADAPT T-shirt and a sign across her knees reads "We Need a Ride To Work." Behind her is another large woman in a wheelchair (Mary Kay Sanders) in dark sunglasses and a white dress; she carries a white parasol and appears to be chanting. Over the top of the parasol another sign (held by someone walking but obscured from view) written in calligraphy can be seen: "Access is a Civil Right." The line bends back and around out of view. Caption reads: Countless Frustrations. Angry protesters in San Antonio wheel through the streets to protest the lack of accessible public transportation.