Imagine this scenario real quick. In this situation, you use a wheelchair.

You get invited to go chill with your friends at this trendy coffee shop downtown. You’re so excited to try a delicious latte (that also makes for a super cute Instagram pic) and get some homework done while hanging out with people. You put on your favorite sweater, do a little bit of makeup, and head downtown to meet your friends. As y’all are approaching the café, you notice there are five stairs in front of the entrance, and there are no visible ramps. One of your friends goes inside to ask an employee if there are any wheelchair accessible entrances, but unfortunately, there aren’t any. The manager explains that it is an old building, and accessibility wasn’t as prevalent when the coffee shop was built. (This is what a worker at Coffee Underground in Greenville, SC told me.) Now you guys have to go to the same old Starbucks that you’ve been to 100 times. All because you aren’t able to go up and down the stairs.

Alright, scenario over, but that would suck, right? And it’s extremely unfair, right? Yup. Take it from me; someone to whom this exact scenario happened. It makes the friends feel bad because they brought you there, it’s not good for the employees or the company because they don’t get your service; and most of all, it makes the person with the disability feel even more singled out than usual, and they feel bad because now they’re the reason that the friends can’t go to where they had originally planned.

This isn’t something that happens once in a blue moon, either. At least once a month I go somewhere that doesn’t have a wheelchair-accessible entrance, and at least once a week I go somewhere that does have a wheelchair-accessible entrance, but nothing else is wheelchair-accessible.

So what exactly does “wheelchair accessible” mean? First of all, I just want to point out that “handicap accessible” doesn’t always mean “wheelchair accessible.” To the surprise of many, wheelchair accessibility does not just mean a ramp and a big bathroom stall. 

Let’s start outside. Sidewalk bumps and cracks are the devil. What seems like a tiny crack to you is the perfect spot for the caster wheels on my chair to mess up. This can cause a few things to happen. 1. I get stuck, 2. Everything falls off of my lap, or 3. (my favorite) the sudden shift in momentum makes the wheelchair stop… but I keep going, and BAM, I fall onto the sidewalk. Of course, all bumps and cracks in all sidewalks everywhere can’t be fixed, but I’m talking about cross-walks and what not. That brings me to my next point- curb cuts. A lot, and I mean a lot, of places just don’t even have curb cuts. When there are curb cuts, however, sometimes they’ll be on one side of the street but not the other. (90% of curb cuts at Winthrop University are like this.) So what, now I’m just supposed to roll in the street and hope a car doesn’t hit me?

Now, let’s talk about buildings. Obviously, there needs to be a ramp if there are stairs leading to the entrance, and the ramp can’t have an incline that’s the same as Mt. Everest. If I don’t have anyone to push me, I need to be able to push myself up the ramp. If the incline is too much, then I either won’t be able to get myself up or my chair will tip backwards. (@ Burgers and Barley in Rock Hill, SC.) If there aren’t stairs, that’s great, but there can’t be a huge lip to get in the door. My caster wheels aren’t the best at getting over big bumps. If I’m at a store, there needs to be lowered counters and pin pads, so I can see the cashiers and reach the pin pad. Not being able to see over a counter is super awkward- the person behind it can’t see that I’m there, they often times can’t hear me well, and I get to stare at and talk to a big ole block of wood. If I’m at a restaurant, there needs to be a low-top table available for me to roll under and sit at. Most of the time this isn’t a problem, except many restaurants only have one or two low-top tables, and they are typically reserved for large parties. Also, what happens if I’m at the one low-top table, and then another wheelchair user comes in to eat? Or a large party that needs that big table? (@ Carolina Ale House on Woodruff Road in Greenville, SC.) Another thing that is necessary for wheelchair accessibility is having aisles that wheelchairs can fit through. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been trying to get through a store or a restaurant and I’ve had to move chairs, or tables, or entire clothing racks out of my way. 

Lastly, I want to touch on accessibility in restrooms. To begin with, the stall has to be big enough for me to get my wheelchair where it needs to be so I can transfer onto the toilet and close the door behind me. There also needs to be grab bars beside the toilet, or I can’t balance enough to stand up. Grab bars are like the most common (and easy to have) “accessible” feature, so when public places don’t have them it baffles me. Also, I can’t reach soap dispensers that are high on the wall or sinks that are on a high counter, and I can’t see in mirrors that are up high.

Story time!

A few weeks ago, I went out to eat with 2 friends at Takosushi in downtown Greenville, SC. I rolled myself to the bathroom and maneuvered around for a few minutes, but there was no way for me to fit in the stall and shut the door. I went back out to the table, got one of my friends, and we went back to the restroom to see if she could get the door shut. I ended up having to position my chair and transfer onto the toilet with my pants still on. Then, my friends had to wheel my chair out and close the door, so I could stand up, pull my pants down, and go pee. Once I pulled my pants back up, I had to sit back down on the toilet, yell to my friend that I was done, and she brought my chair back inside for me to get in. What a freaking struggle just to go pee! Yeah, just wait- my next story is better.

Last weekend, my family and I took my sister back to school at U of SC. We went to lunch at a restaurant called Publico in Five Points, and had some really yummy food. Before we left, I went to go to the restroom, but when I got there I saw that there weren’t any grab bars, so I couldn’t go. The waitress noticed this, and told me that the men’s restroom did have bars, and it was empty if I wanted to go in there. I went to the men’s restroom, and there was a bar, but the stall wasn’t wide enough for my chair to fit in at all, so I couldn’t use that restroom either. I needed to pee before the hour-and-a-half drive back home, but my dad’s truck is a pain for me to get in and out of, so we wanted to find a restroom that we could walk to. There was a Starbucks with an accessible bathroom across the street, so we decided to go over there. As we were about to reach the Starbucks, we noticed that there were three stairs— and, you guessed it, no ramp. My dad popped a wheelie and somehow got me down the steps, and I finally went pee, and that’s the end of my story time; I just wanted to give y’all an inside peek into doing seemingly easy daily tasks as a wheelchair user.

So, yeah. As you can hopefully now see, wheelchair accessibility in public places is terrible. ADA laws exist, and they have since 1990 (which is actually not that long ago?), but I don’t think that they’re enforced nearly as much as they should be. Us wheelchair users are used to dealing with inaccessibility, and there are ways to get around some of the obstacles we face, but that’s not the point. The point is that it’s incredibly unfair and frustrating. The point is that the lack of accessibility is discriminatory, and it enables the world to continue being ableist. There are already so many things that wheelchair users can’t do, so, at the least, we should be able to go into public areas without having to worry if we will be able to use the restroom.

Accessibility, in general, absolutely needs to improve. Wheelchair accessibility is one thing, and I have first-hand experience with it, but what about accessibility for those who are vision or hearing-impaired? Those who have serious mental issues or cognitive impairment? Those who suffer from epilepsy? The list goes on and on. I can’t speak on accessibility for other disabilities, but being in a wheelchair has opened my eyes to see that the simplest tasks or errands for one person can be the hardest activity for someone else. What’s tough is that these problems go unnoticed until you or a loved one has to deal with them, and no one’s to blame, but that’s just how it is.

Before I end this post, I want y’all to imagine one more scenario real quick. Again, you’re a wheelchair user.

Imagine that a new restaurant is built in your town, and you decide to go with your two friends. There are five handicapped parking spots, and each spot has a nice, smooth, level ramp leading onto the sidewalk. The doors automatically open, and there isn’t a giant lip on the door. You go up to the host stand, and the host sees you, so they step out to the side to speak to you. They lead you to one of the multiple low-top tables, that is meant for only four people, and move a chair out from under the table for you before you can even ask. Towards the end of your meal, you roll to the restroom to see that there is not one, but two, large, wheelchair accessible stalls with multiple grab bars. There are separate sinks in those stalls with a lowered soap dispenser, sink, and mirror. (The Hollywood 20 movie theater in Greenville, SC has these exact bathrooms.) So the fact that the food was good is just a bonus- the wheelchair accessibility was amazing! One day, I hope that every public place I go in will be like this— for me and for every other wheelchair user out there.