Access-Ability

“People in wheelchairs are so inconsiderate – they really should have thought of all of this before they decided to be paralysed…”

I begin this post in fear and trembling – as one ought to when writing about something which privilege has always blinded one to, but is the daily, lived experience of another. In sharing that which crescendoed into my consciousness late in my 30’s, while others have had to struggle with the personal and structural experience of it as long as their memory serves, I run the risk of secondary-victimisation: of having my “enlightenment” further traumatise those who have experienced the daily consequences of the continued blindness of those of us not consciously affected by this. So, I write this in humility, in recognising that I have only just begun navigating this space and with an invitation to others who are more acquainted with this terrain to coach me, and an invitation to others who might only be accessing this for the first time, to join me.

Yhew! I had actually meant this to be a pretty practical post, but that was important to say upfront. I have a feeling I will be writing that in a few different ways each time I tackle aspects of my privilege which I am only now beginning to deconstruct…

The topic at hand, which has occupied my being with a sense of deep urgency for the last while, is access for people of varied levels of physical ability – and, in this case, the very concrete ways in which we can cultivate welcome and belonging in all our spaces, or turn someone away before we have even realised it. The (paraphrased) quote above actually came from my husband with whom I had booked a date night a few weeks ago – arriving armed with a notepad, calculator and a set agenda so that I could set out all my plans and details and hopefully move forward with them. That was his way of matching my raw passion as I spoke, but in his wonderfully calm, tongue-in-cheek way. I think I could have just left this post as that quote alone, but the things I wanted to share were the simple, yet so important, practical considerations I have learned on the journey so far, because I didn’t find this information terribly easily (perhaps I need to work on my “google search” skills, but perhaps it isn’t too available?).

SO – I shall begin with one moment which completely blew my mind, and then I’ll write a list from there. About 7 months ago, I had a friend of a friend, who works in the “access” field, come around to help look at our house to see how I could make it more accessible to people in wheelchairs or with walking aids. I was feeling a little proud of myself for already having looked at ways of installing ramps and realising that I would need to move my door knobs lower. I was also experiencing relief as she walked through our house and found that our doorways were wide enough, and the space just beyond them clear enough for good mobility. As we walked into the bathroom, she said, “It’s great that your toilet is a contrasting colour to your floortiles.”……………………… I blinked blankly. She gently explained that people who are certified blind are rarely 100% without sight, that they can still see shadows and shapes, and so it helps for the toilet to have a contrasting colour to the tiles………I don’t think I can adequately explain what happened to my brain and then heart in that moment, but I know the moment moved me beyond the “place of no return” in terms of exploding more of my able-bodied privilege…

So, here are a few more things which completely make sense…when your brain is actually invited into THINKING about them!

• Those lovely bathroom floor patterns with black and white tiles: can be very confusing to people who are partially sighted – they can look like stairs or other obstacles. Best to choose welcome which, in this case, is a single-coloured tile.
• Door knobs require a certain amount of dexterity – some people in wheelchairs may still have strength in their hands, but some may not, and people without arms would find them virtually impossible. It is a good idea to change door knobs to lever handles which one just needs to put gravitational weight on in order to open.
• Door handles should be no higher than 1.2m
• Make sure you are looking at which way the door swings and whether this will make it difficult for a person surrounded by a walker, or in a wheelchair to manoeuvre around. If the door swings towards the person, make sure there is space to move backwards, etc, etc (some more detailed measurements to follow).
• This one: make sure that a door which is open can be secured flush against the wall! If someone who cannot see is using a stick and is tracking with the wall, they need to be able to detect the presence of the door easily, otherwise they might mistake the gap between the wall and the door for an opening, walk forward trusting the space in front of them, and could walk straight into the thin edge of the door.
• It is also helpful to people whose sight is limited if your skirting boards, or any change between floor and wall or levels, are somehow differentiated – put reflective tape on steps, on handrails, run a darker skirting along the bottom of the walls of your bathroom.
• Microwaves with dials can be adjusted with some tipex/3D stickers to become sensible to people with limited or no sight. I would imagine (though I didn’t check this), that ones with buttons would be better for people with limited dexterity.
• Doorways need to be no narrower than 760mm
• Handrails should be 900mm high and in parallel with any gradient of the floor
• If you are making changes to your kitchen, make at least one work surface with legroom under the counter, and low enough to work at while sitting. Accessibility to all appliances and utensils etc should be taken into account too.
• If you are making changes to your bathroom, you seriously need to get a professional in! But if you can’t, get hold of me and I am sure the friend of the friend won’t mind if I sent you some really detailed diagrams! In the meantime, watch out for enough space to manoeuvre, legroom under the washbasin, or ability to lean over to the washbasin while still seated on to the toilet. Lower your towel rails. Think about your taps: their height and how manageable they are. Put handrails on the bath, but rather have a shower (with no lip at the entrance…nowadays this is often done to look modern, so really: insist on it!) and some handrails around.
• Ramps! Somehow we have all been taught that you are looking to have a gradient of 1:3…as in, for each 1 measurement you want to elevate, you need a ramp length of 3 measurements. This appears to be from the age when disability was something to be minimally “managed”. We are now in an age where we would love to see people of all variations of “bodiedness” enabled to enjoy independent mobility, decision making and navigation of their own context. SO: here is where our school maths really comes in to play.
  • When there is a level change of 15mm (millimetres, not centimetres!), you can use a gradient of 1:3
  • When the level change is less than 400mm (but more than 15mm), the gradient needs to be 1:10. It needs to be 1:12 when the level change is between 400mm and 500mm.
  • From there, you need to start thinking about landings! For an elevation with a maximum of 500mm, you are allowed a maximum length of 6m between landings. Between 500mm-665mmm, you need a gradient of 1:15 and a maximum of 10m length of the ramp between landings. Between 665mm-750mm, gradient becomes 1:20 and the maximum length is 15m.
  • Landings need to be 1.2m in length for every 1.5 m of vertical rise. Landings must also be provided on straight sections of the ramps (not corners).
• Ramps need to be at least 1.1m wide and a cross gradient (camber) of no more than 1:40.
• DO remember to make your ramps slip-resistant!

PLEASE add to this list! I am under no misconception that it is exhaustive!

Another of my husband’s chirps that date night was, “Well…we’re just going to have to make sure none of our kids make friends with people with disabilities.” When we put it as blatantly as that, it really does sound absurd, doesn’t it? Even cruel. Over the last few months, I have become more and more confused as to why we are even allowed to plan and build houses which don’t take accessibility into account right from the beginning. Seriously. Each decision we now take to make these changes or not can expand or limit our own levels of ability: our ability to extend welcome, our ability to invest in rich friendships, our ability to live in a world which doesn’t just serve our privilege, our ability to care for pretty much any elderly person we know. Some decisions may take a little more intentionality and planning than others, but let’s be aware that, one way or another, we ARE deciding…

Of benches, boundaries and thresholds of welcome…

Today I built a bench. I am quite proud of it. And of myself. I am not terribly gifted with creating real, touchable things and I am not particularly physically strong either, so I am quite proud of doing all the sawing, hammering, etc etc myself…I learned a few things as well: I learned not to judge people who fail woodwork so badly (Safa reference); I learned that sometimes nails go through nicely because I have mastered the angle of the stroke, and sometimes it happens because the wood is a little more rotten than I thought (“sometimes” meaning “OK, once” and “alright, pretty much each time” respectively); I also learned to check the tip of the nail before beginning to hammer it in: a blunt nail is NOT a cool thing to persevere with, as two of my fingers and my thumb are reminding me as I type this.

But, this post is not about the my excitement at having made something which I can hold in my hands. Nor is it about passing on DIY tips around working with wood and nails. It isn’t even about recycling palettes (which really excites the eco-nerd in me) or the fact that I tried to do it in a way which anyone could do and not spend a huge amount of money (which does it for the justice-geek part of me).

I wanted to tell you about the bench, because it fits into a wider thinking of mine which I think I just need to write about instead of waiting for it to be perfected! This particular thinking revolves around hospitality and what I call  “boundaries and thresholds of welcome”. Hospitality, for me, is about welcoming people and making them know they are precious, unique and created in God’s image – without necessarily saying anything. Hospitality to the stranger, especially, is spoken about in “sacred” language in the bible: you never know when you might be welcoming angels (Hebrews 13:2) and Jesus made it clear that the way we treat “the least of these” is a direct demonstration of our love for Him (Matthew 25:31-46).

But hospitality to the stranger is quite a tricky one in our society nowadays – with our walls, our sense of “individuality” and privacy, our sense of ownership of everything we have been given to steward; and the fear that the person at the gate or asking for help might not actually be in need, but might represent danger for you and/or your family. I feel like we have to approach this with wisdom and creativity. Wisdom to know where to set a healthy boundary, and creativity in finding a way for the space at that boundary to become a space of welcome – every boundary line we set is also a threshold of welcome.

I have been trying to think of my garden and home in this way for a few years now: how do I make people feel welcomed and created in the image of God at each of the boundaries…and how can I change my wall, my gate, my garden and my home to move each boundary and “increase my yes” to people coming deeper in to “our” space – safely?

The bench is part of an exercise of creating a threshold of welcome on our first “non-conceptual” boundary line (at least two other wider ones are: choosing a house which is near to public transport routes so that people who do not own cars are able to access your home easily; and having a church which embraces real hospitality to the stranger…this for another day!). When I can’t let people in – when I am alone at home and there is a male at the gate, for example – how do I make them feel cherished, or at the very least not rob them of all dignity?

I am passionate about having a bell that works, so that people do not have to stand shouting at my gate; we stopped plans to build a solid wall at the front of our house, so that we could always greet neighbours walking past, and not be hidden from people seeking help at the front gate. I have put out wooden crates on to the pavement and am growing plants and pretty flowers so that it hopefully already feels like sanctuary. And the bench is going to be there so that people have a place other than the pavement to sit down after walking around all day, while I run inside to make a cup of coffee or see if my kids have outgrown some good clothes which I can give to them. (I also really want to make sure I always have food of some sort that I can give. I have wondered about having a ready-made pack for people so I am always prepared – another way to make someone feel that you welcome them and have been eagerly anticipating their arrival).

The bench is not the last step…I would really like to put some shelter from the rain above it, and perhaps rig a small water-tank behind the wall with the tap coming through so that people can always at least have something to drink, even if we’re not home. While I was getting the flower crates ready a few weeks ago, one of our neighbours actually suggested putting a bench there “so we can sit and have tea” …I am really excited that this bench might not only make “the stranger” feel more honoured, but will even increase the sense of community in my street.

I am eager to hear what other people have done to create a threshold of welcome outside their home…and I am quite happy to share a host of thoughts I have had about other spaces in our home, but thought I would leave it there, as a nice project for people to experiment with this weekend 🙂

PS: I DO try to think of each person who comes to my gate as if they were Jesus, but in case you think it sounds too good to be true: I have had to make a very conscious choice each time to focus on that and on celebrating that Jesus has presented Himself in this way at my gate. And there are days where I have prayed that Jesus doesn’t choose to do this (!) because I am really tired and just want to lie on the couch and doze! It is all a journey, but worth talking about!