Is "Access" Enough?

We have a pretty binary concept when it comes to handicapped accessibility in this country: locations either is or they ain't. I had an experience last Saturday night that brought home to me the idea that maybe that's not quite enough.

I was invited to the Lund Theatre at Dominican University in River Forest, Illinois, to see the Waswagoning Dance Theatre, which is an Anishinabe group worth going out of your way to see. Excellent show. But on arriving, I discovered that the Lund prides itself on being handicapped accessible---the parking area has a variety of "handicapped entrance this way" signs pointing you to the ramp, from their *three* handicapped spots (which were full long before I got there). And it's a lovely ramp, which I didn't take---now that I'm recovering from the knee surgery, stairs aren't as much of an issue as number of steps I have to take, and the ramp is easily four times the length of the stairs.

Unfortunately, the first thing you see when you enter is a sign saying "All bathrooms downstairs." A combination of visual inspection and asking around tells you that it's a very steep set of stairs, and there are no elevators. Now operating with a cane, I can do that, if slowly and carefully.

The theatre itself is beautiful, and obviously not new. That combined with being a part of an educational institution with not much money, I suppose, is how they managed to come under the hardship provision of the ADA: there really isn't anywhere, in any practical sense, to put an elevator in the building. And since there's no way to do so, and no way to get a wheelchair downstairs anyway, the money of course hasn't been spent to make either the outer bathroom doors nor any stall doors wheelchair-wide or provide rails.

But imagine yourself limited to a wheelchair, come to see a play that may last two hours or more, making the journey to this theatre having been assured that it's "handicapped accessible." And it is, of course---you will have no difficulty entering the building, or entering the theatre in your wheelchair. That's not going to be a hell of a lot of consolation when you desperately have to pee, and there's nowhere you can possibly go.

Seems to me that we need at least two handicapped classifications: "handicapped accessible" and "minimally" or "partially handicapped accessible."

"Handicapped accessible" would mean "you can come here in a wheelchair and do absolutely anything and everything anyone else can do."

"Minimally/partially handicapped accessible" would mean "you can come here, but there are things other folks can do here that you won't be able to." This would warn you that you might need to call ahead and see what those limitations are: "you can get into our theatre to see the play, but you won't be able to get to our art display on the far side of the lobby" may be quite all right with you, since the art display isn't what you came for. But "you can see the play, spend half a day, buy a great deal of consumable liquid at our concession stand, but you won't have anywhere to pee" just might be a dealbreaker.

Equinocturnal......

In a year that's chock full---perhaps overfull---of new beginnings, when better to take a bit of time to focus, contemplate, meditate, open one's mind and heart to the new, than an equinox?

Time for a bit of ceremony, a bit of ritual....a letting go of the cold dark winter. A fertilizing, being open to new growth...even if I don't know where it's going.

Time to be a wildflower---or a tomato. However it works out.

House is on the market. No nibbles yet. Not a clue how long this process will take.

Can't seriously look at replacement houses until this one sells. Have my eye on one, but who knows if it will still be available? I try to be one with the universe and will it to be available when I am available, if it is the house I'm meant to be in.

Can't make plans either to go back to school or find work without knowing where I'm going to live. Hanging fire, packing boxes......

Wonder where it will all be by the time of the summer solstice?