Thanks, Tom Harkin!

The ADA and Universal Design and Access have made my life better--and I'm not disabled

Photo by Amanuel Tesfaye on Unsplash

Many people know that former Iowa Senator Tom Harkin was the mover and shaker behind the passage of the Americans with Disabilities Act of 1990. One of the bill’s features required that access to buildings be equitable for people with mobility challenges.

When I went to Europe in the 1990s, I was struck by all the cobblestones and uneven streets, narrow sidewalks, and steep, twisty staircases in old buildings. I remember wondering how disabled people were able to get around. I saw no wheelchairs then, but things seem to be improving with low-floor trains and trams and specially-outfitted taxis.

We think of the ADA as focused on access, and it is, but providing access is also a justice issue. For much of human history, people who couldn’t move under their own steam were at the mercy of others or worse, consigned to the shadows of human life.

Americans owe a lot to Tom Harkin’s work. In addition to making buildings more accessible, the ADA strives to make hiring practices more just. Much has been written about Harkin’s personal story that drove him to steer the ADA into being.

People may be less informed, however, about Universal Design and Access, which is not a law, but in many ways, a next logical step to the ADA. Universal Design seeks to create environments where people can continue to access facilities or services as their needs change.

Sometimes it’s a matter of incorporating a thoughtful adjustment that benefits everyone. When I was in Portland waiting to board the light rail, an extension slid out from the car’s doorway and allowed for step-free access from the platform. There was no need to “mind the gap” and I was thankful.

A parent with a stroller or a person in a wheelchair could easily enter. I noticed that not all stations were set up to work with this extension, but it was a joy when they did.

I don’t have mobility issues (yet), but I do have moderate hearing loss. To compensate, I wear hearing aids. They work great most of the time, except when public transportation loudspeakers are poor. When I’ve visited Chicago, I use the “L” a lot. Loudspeakers on many cars are terrible, and I can’t hear the next stop unless I look at the station when we slow down.

There have been occasions when I can’t see the sign because of where I’m sitting or where the car stops, but on some recent trips, there have been digital displays at the front of some cars. They clearly display the name of the stop, and it helps me—pardon the pun--stay on track. Not all “L” cars have this technology yet, but I’m sure I won’t be the only one happy to see them when they do.

When it comes to air travel, the sound system on airplanes can also be terrible. On a recent flight, I couldn’t hear anything the attendant said as people found their seats. This probably owed to the plane’s door being open and outside jet noises drowning her out.

Sometimes, however, I can’t hear what the pilot is saying while we’re cruising at 30-something-thousand feet. It would be nice to know what’s up! (Again, sorry for the pun.)

Some pilots are funny, and I can always use a laugh while penned inside a metal tube with 200 strangers. If the situation is far less than funny, I’d like to know that, too.

Of course, I can ask the person seated next to me, but should I have to? A digital display positioned at several intervals throughout the cabin would help people like me stay informed.

Time was many planes sported a seatback monitor. Wouldn’t it have been handy to see all that was being said on the seatback? The monitors were never put to such use, except to show a canned safety film, but that was a missed opportunity for us hearing-impaired folks.

It’s too late to make such a suggestion; seatback monitors are disappearing from most domestic flights. Techsciresearch.com says it’s one way to reduce the plane’s weight and make more room for passengers. Does this mean they will try to squish us in even more tightly?

I don’t call my hearing impairment a disability because I function at a high level in my work and personal life, but it has made me aware of the hurdles, nay, roadblocks that many face daily. I can’t imagine how frustrating it might be.

It doesn’t help that in our current political climate, we have a president who makes fun of people with disabilities and who calls fallen soldiers suckers and losers. He requires the veneer of perfection to function, but he’s no picture of perfection himself.

The backs of his hands are covered in makeup that tries (unsuccessfully) to hide bruises. He got off a plane recently and walked as if he were drunk. He wasn’t drunk because he’s famously a teetotaler, but it sure looked like he could have used some assistance for whatever was bothering him.

I wanted to say, “Hey, Mr. President! If you used a ramp today, thank Tom Harkin.” Harkin is, for me, the measure of a man because his work was guided not by seeking perfection but in practicing compassion. If we practiced more of that as a nation, such would make us a lot closer to great.