Next to being embedded in dominant mobility discourses, I feel that accessibility and spatial reasonable accommodation have been approached from strong problem-solving perspectives in our culture. These have been inspired by the ‘social model of disability’ which has considerably won ground since the 1960s and which assumes that people are disabled by barriers in society, not by their impairment or difference. While I agree that removing these barriers creates more equal opportunities and offers disabled people more independence, choice and control over their own lives, in my view, for two reasons it should not be regarded as a universal or absolute solution for all physically disabled people. On the one hand, the highly diverse ways in which the practical consequences of impairments manifest themselves in society, make it impossible to avoid that someone feels left out. In the discipline of architectural design, this has recently been identified as the inclusive design paradox (Heylighen & Bianchin, 2018). On the other hand, in many cases—like mine for example—spatial reasonable accommodation does not make the impairment completely disappear—nor the discomfort a person experiences from it. I would like to argue that, just like assistive devices or other support measures, spatial reasonable accommodation and accessibility should therefore be considered as a policy direction or individual path to relief and improvement, rather than an unrealistic all-encompassing solution.
If the concept of accessibility and spatial inclusion is historically determined, a design paradox, and there is no all-encompassing solution for all persons with physical disabilities, I hear you wonder, is there still a way you can make me really feel included, without doing any wrong? In my opinion there is, and it does not require any money or ingenuity, just an open mind and a listening ear. As long as the usability of an area is maximised as fair as possible for persons with physical impairments (Heylighen & Bianchin, 2018) it is not the specific design of a space which makes me feel welcome. It is the respectful and non-judgemental attitude of the people present. Don’t worry, I do not expect you to know my difficulties, nor do I expect you to imagine what being in a wheelchair or experiencing chronic pain feels like. I just want you to acknowledge my disability experiences as part of myself and my life, without having to justify or explain them. Physically disabled people already have to do that enough when applying for welfare benefits or claiming their rights for reasonable accommodation. You could start to open yourself up to my experiences by posing the simple question barely anyone asks as such: “What do you need and what can I help you with?” And if you then cannot satisfy all my disability needs, I will still feel appreciated where I am, because you have done the most respectful and brave thing of all to include me: you have listened to my world and how I experience the world around me.
© Marisa De Picker