When You Literally Can't Get Your Foot In The Door: Disability, Accessibility and Unemployment

Disability. Accessibility. Unemployment.  Three things that are intertwined. Being disabled and not able to get into an office that is hiring just adds insult to injury.

If you're a TAB (better known as one of the "Temporarily Able Bodied") you've likely not faced this trio of issues. But the key word is temporarily. Like most of you a few years ago I was also 'able bodied.' A few days ago I faced literally being unable to 'get my foot in the door' to apply for a job. Yes, as a TAB I had never realized just how good I had it. 

If you're like the majority of working age Americans you don't give a second thought to businesses being handicapped accessible. Until it hits home.  It did for me last week. It hit hard.

I've been job hunting for over two years (yes I'm that statistic the government doesn't want to tell you about, the unemployed who no longer qualify for unemployment but who are still unemployed.) I had applied for a job  and was excited when they called for a interview. I really needed the job. Those two LONG years of being unemployed are taking their toll on my confidence. But being called in for this interview rejuvenated me! I spent hours researching the types of business they handled, brushed up on my computer skills, curled my hair, did my makeup, got dressed in my most businesslike attire. 

But when I arrived, (my usual 15 minutes early,) I was dismayed to find I couldn't get into the office. I tried one way, then another, there was no way to get up the steps to the office. It wasn't handicapped accessible. I was told 'next time before I apply I should check out the business' office' to see if I could get into it. I think the person who said this was trying to be helpful, he just didn't get it. He's not the one who can't get into the office. At least today he isn't. Temporarily he can access the office. I hope he never faces not being able to get into the office.

I understand the difficulty of installing a ramp, especially for small businesses. As an individual I'm facing the cost and design issues at home. I don't have a wheelchair but steps are difficult but doable, but all I needed to get into this job interview was to be able to reach a railing. A safe railing so I could get up the steps. Unfortunately the railing was blocked. A small thing (although what use a railing people can't reach is I'm not sure.) But it is really the first time my 'disability' hit me hard. My disability meant I couldn't get into the office to interview for the job, let alone work there. And I don't even have what I would call a 'serious' disability. I can still get around with some limitations using my cane, at least I can get around some places.

The people interviewing me apologized. But the cold hard fact is even if they'd wanted to hire me, even if I was the best qualified person in the world for that job, I wouldn't have gotten it. Because I couldn't get into the office to work. (Obviously a reasonable job requirement.) Now I realize just how the rest of the disabled population feels when they come up against this, over and over and over.

I've face sidewalk ramps that are too steep to be usable without falling (Thank you Springfield Mall, and they aren't the only ones). It's common to find sidewalk ramps that are too steep for someone with a disability to navigate if they are using a cane, (and probably even if they are in a wheelchair that doesn't have some power behind it.) I've found steps that are too high to negotiate even with railings, curbs that are too high, ramps that ice up and aren't salted when it snows, railings that are so loose that if you are disabled and needed the railing for support, it is dangerous, and the list goes on.

So the next time you hear those unemployment numbers and think 'wow every one's finally getting a job,' the cold hard facts are NOT everyone is getting jobs. Huge numbers of people will never be employed again. They've been unemployed so long they aren't even counted anymore.  And some people who are otherwise employable literally can't get their foot in the door. Because they can't get up the steps to be interviewed or to work. By not making all buildings accessible the government is basically telling me 'you don't count.'

I've become a statistic. An invisible statistic. Come the election you won't hear the candidates of either party talking about me, or others like me. Because they don't know what to do with us. We face employers who look at our resume and see 'unemployed since 2010' or underemployed since 2010 and they put our resumes in the circular file. The only choices we are left with is to find some kind of self-employment where we will be paid so far below what we made previously and not be able to afford the health insurance we so badly need. So since the government doesn't count me as unemployed anymore, AND they either aren't enforcing or don't require accessibility to all businesses (which is just another way of telling me I am not important enough to have businesses have to provide access,) and... the list goes on of the ways the government has marginalized the disabled and the unemployed. And God forbid you are both.

Are you disabled? Have you faced these issues? Let's try to put some pressure on our government, both federal and local, to enforce accessibility laws, to help educate local businesses on cost efficient ways to make their business accessible, and give the disabled a chance to at least 'get their foot in the door.'

Etta May -- Or Food For Thought About Turning The Other Cheek

Etta May is one of those people you meet in life you never forget. She taught me life lessons I was glad for long after I met her in high school.  She taught me the importance of turning the other cheek.

Who was Etta May? Etta May was in my Foods class in Lenape Regional High School. She was what was known in the 1970s as 'mentally retarded' but would now be described as 'intellectually challenged.' Whatever you want to call it Etta May was one person who taught me important life lessons-the value of independence for everyone no matter what their abilities and of meeting unkindness with kindness.

I admit, in school I was one of those kids in the advanced classes. Foods was a class I took to avoid study hall. I wasn't really expecting to learn a lot, although in the end I learned more important life lessons there than in any advanced English, Science or History class I ever took. 

Etta May wasn't a beauty, but she always smiled. She wasn't always able to read the directions for recipes, but she was unfailingly NICE to everyone. She tried her best. She looked for the good in every person and inevitably found something in everyone to admire. And she taught me the value of teamwork and that everyone on the team has something to contribute.

Etta May was on my team in Foods Class.  This meant I and the three other girls in the class worked with her on a daily basis.  We all reacted differently to Etta May's challenges. One girl was a bully and cruel, we all ran interference because we thought Etta May needed our help. 

What we didn't realize was she'd known this girl her entire life and had learned her own ways to deal with her with no help from us. She simply turned the other cheek. I know, it sounds so, goody two shoes.  But it worked.  The more Etta May met (I'll call her Maureen, not her real name) Maureen's barbs with kindness the more Maureen was frustrated at not being able to bully Etta May.

The other three girls worked with Etta May but tried to do things for her without giving her a chance to try herself.  I showed Etta May how to do it and then let her do it herself.  Seeing her sense of pride in her attempts (some of which were successful, some not) made it worth it.  While her work wasn't always perfect, the teacher and I had an unspoken agreement that it was more important to let Etta May try than to have a perfect result. 

Etta May's pride in her accomplishments were something I'll never forget.  Be the accomplishment big or small, she was thrilled she'd done it herself.  I can't take responsibility for the way I treated her, that would be 'thank you Mom' who was the queen of teaching us things without making it seem like she was even trying and letting us learn how to do it even if it wasn't perfect the first time.

Years later the lessons Etta May taught me came back to me when I was faced with the challenge of having two daughters with similar disabilities. I was also faced with helping them help themselves or taking the easy way of out by doing things for them. 

Thanks to Etta May's unwitting but valuable guidance (even though she never knew she taught  me anything) I became the mother my children needed.  Etta May made me a strong advocate of mainstreaming and independence for the differently able. 

There were many times it would have been easier to do things for my daughters.  But they're grown up now and both live on their own and hold down jobs. Without the lessons learned from Etta May I might have been a very different kind of mother to them.  There lives might be very different than they are today.

I've often wished I could find Etta May and just give her a hug--she helped ME so much. She taught me life lessons I wouldn't have gotten any else in my education. And better yet, as every mother knows, she helped my children, even though she never knew them. (We all know that people who help our children are high on our lists of favorite people). She changed my attitude and outlook so I could help them. So if anyone out there knows where Etta May is today, give her a hug from me and my family.