- 语言Afrikaans 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©
主页 / 相册 / 标签 PCEPD - President's Committee on Employment of People with Disabilities
+ ADAPT - American Disabled for Accessible Public Transportation 2
ADAPT (135)
The Denver Post 7/8/90 [This article continues in ADAPT 138, but the entire story has been included here for easier reading] Perspective Access for the disabled: Cost vs. benefit Photo by RTD staff: A smiling African American man in a manual wheelchair, wearing a beret and with a sports coat over his lap is being helped to board a city bus by the driver, who is behind him. In front of the lift a woman stands waiting to board. Caption reads: A LIFT: The President's Committee on Employment of People with Disabilities was given a demonstration of an RTD lift during its 1987 convention which was held in Denver. By Al Knight Denver Post Perspective Editor Now, while the Americans with Disabilities Act is awaiting President Bush’s signature, would be a good time to reflect on what has been learned by this city's experience in attempting to provide full wheelchair access to public transportation. Assuming the president signs the bill as he says he will, public transit systems all over America will have to begin purchasing new buses equipped with wheelchair lifts, as well instituting a variety of other steps designed to enlarge employment opportunities for the disabled, improve services in state and local government, enlarge public accommodations, and create a national telecommunication relay service to aid the blind and deaf. Critics of the bill have argued that the nation is embarking upon a program without the vaguest clue of what its ultimate cost will be. In many ways, the dispute is a duplication of what took place in Denver in the early 1980s as the Regional Transportation District developed its policy on how rapidly to expand wheelchair access. There were a number of protests in which disabled residents in wheelchairs disrupted RTD service and were arrested. The protests were particularly disturbing for all concerned — RTD, the drivers and the police. The sight of an abled-bodied police officer toting away a wheelchair-bound citizen is not the stuff for law enforcement scrapbooks, nor is it the kind of publicity designed to attract bus riders generally. In 1982, the RTD board, which then was an appointed body, voted against equipping 89 new buses with special lifts capable of handling wheelchair passengers. That vote set off the protests. An elected board took over in 1983 and one of its first acts was to reverse that vote and authorize the purchase of the lifts at a cost of well over $1 million. At the same time RTD struggled with the issue of whether to retrofit existing buses with lifts, and in 1985 resolved it with a resolution that it would buy lifts for all new buses, but not pursue a retrofitting program. There had been a history of mechanical problems with some of the lifts, and on more than one occasion a lift would fail, dumping the wheelchair passenger in the process. In 1982, then Gov. Dick Lamm refused to go along with a proposal by the American Disabled for Accessible Public Transportation, which was demanding wheelchair access to “all U.S. public buses." Lamm suggested in a speech to the American Public Transit Association that such a policy might result in rides costing $600 each: “If America can't say no to a system that costs $600 per ride, we don't deserve to continue as a great nation.“ But as they say, that was then, this is now. Just last fall, RTD was awarded a special citation for having "the finest accessible bus service in the nation." The award came from the President's Committee on Employment of People with Disabilities. Indeed. it is beyond dispute that RTD has in some respects led the nation. Its experience in developing its current fleet of buses was the prime example used by congressional supporters of the Americans with Disabilities Act. In addition, it is a fact that RTD was the first agency to order its over-the-road buses equipped with lifts. Until RTD's first order, these larger vehicles had been built without lifts. The RTD program hasn’t been accomplished without significant expense. It has cost about $8 million for the lift equipment and millions more for parts, maintenance and training. But the latest figures show per-ride costs are far below the $600 figure mentioned by Lamm. The lifts cost about $13,000 a copy. Because the life of a bus normally is calculated at 12 years, this works out to a little more than $1,000 a bus per year. To this must be added the maintenance cost, which has been dropping each year. As recently as 1985 the cost of maintaining an individual lift was $1,798. This year the average is just over $500. Even without the retrofitting program rejected by the board in 1985, RTD has managed to increase greatly its percentage of lift-equipped buses. In 1985, only 54 percent of buses were so equipped. This year 81 percent are. In recent years, disabled ridership has gone up sharply. In 1982 it was just over 9,000 wheelchair boardings, but last year it reached an estimated 45,000. According to RTD figures, the per-ride cost may have reached $80 in 1984, but with the increase in ridership and the drop in maintenance cost, the cost per ride now has dropped to about $19 a ride, according to the latest calculations. What is not known is how many of Denver’s disabled community actually are served by the lifts. In the mid-1980s, it was estimated that only a few hundred wheelchair-bound residents were regular bus riders. Even as RTD has fitted new buses with the lifts, demands for its HandyRide service have continued to increase. This door-to-door service is available to both the elderly and the handicapped. Some of its wheelchair passengers could be served by regular buses, but many others are unable to get to the bus stop and therefore require the HandyRide service. Precise calculations aren’t available, but it is estimated the cost per ride for using the van service is about $50. Lamm, contacted this week, said he basically hasn’t changed his position on the issue. He said the $600 figure he used in 1982 was based on the experience of the St. Louis bus company. “To govern is to choose," he said, "and I don't believe this nation should make every bus wheelchair-accessible. Should the handicapped be provided transportation? Of course, but it should be provided in the most cost-effective way possible.” Lamm mentioned the expensive elevator system that is a part of the Washington, D.C., subway system as an example of a method that isn't cost-effective. The Denver experience does indicate that the costs of accommodating the wheelchair-bound citizen may not be an endlessly upward spiral. But the key indicator that needs watching is the number of passengers using the service. The taxpayers, the RTD board and staff members clearly have done their part. The wheelchair service is now available on nearly every bus, yet ridership has flattened out. The estimate of 45,000 wheelchair passengers for 1989 is just a few hundred higher than the 1986 level. More persons must be encouraged to use the service. Now that maintenance costs are down, the only way to decrease the still-considerate per-ride cost is to increase the number of passengers using the lifts. The most compelling case the disabled community can make for greater access is to demonstrate an even higher usage of the existing facilities. Highlighted Text: Even without the retrofitting program rejected by the board in 1985, RTD has managed to increase greatly its percentage of lift-equipped buses. In 1985, only 54 percent of buses were so equipped. This year 81 percent are. Photo by The Denver Post/Duane Howell: A slight woman in a wheelchair is being escorted out by two uniformed and one plainclothes police. She is telling one of the officers something and they are all listening with slight smiles on their faces. Behind this group a man in a wheelchair is following, escorted by another police officer and behind them three other policemen stand guard. Caption reads: PROTEST: An unidentified demonstrator at the Regional Transportation District office was escorted out during a 1982 protest over the purchase of new buses.
ADAPT (595)
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.