Thursday, October 1, 2009

Where There's A Will, There's A Way

It's a phrase which has rolled off all of our tongues at one time or another, and the trouble with such catchy phrases is that their truth becomes watered down over time. I have, however, recently had two experiences which brought home the true significance of this phrase for me. Both were disability related, one was at a personal level, whilst the other has far broader implications.

The first "will" occurred during a flight from Cape Town to London. Airline flights are always a flashpoint for us disabled travelers, particularly when is comes to the care and well being of our wheelchairs. I always ask for my wheelchair to be stored inside the cabin, in the coat rack, as I am entitled to do under aviation authority regulations. I've seen first hand how the baggage handlers treat wheelchairs and it's not a pretty sight. Most airlines try, and often succeed, in meeting my request. SAA always decline me, but on this flight there was a flight attendant with some savvy. She could see the way. Despite my being loaded into my seat, and my storage request dismissed offhand by her seniors, she, without fanfare, took it upon herself to negotiate for the storage of my wheelchair in the coat rack. She had the will, and knew the way.

Sadly, for the return flight, which happened to be on exactly the same aircraft, I encountered an aircrew which had neither the will, nor did they want to know the way. They were the exact opposite of the abovementioned attendant, instead choosing to be deliberately and calculatedly obstructive. They agreed to my storage request, loaded me into my seat, waited for the aircraft to take off, then told me they had not loaded the wheelchair and had sent it into the hold instead. Some people do not know the way, and never will.

But this story is far bigger than my personal battles with SAA. When I was last in London wheelchair access was possible, but with difficulty. The challenge was physical in the sense of ramps, steps, lifts, etc, but the greatest barrier I encountered was a mental one. London as we all know is a historical city, and the city fathers and their minions down the chain hid behind this historical legacy at every opportunity. All too often one would have the excuse of "this is a Grade 1" building thrown in one's face when looking for a lift, or ramp, or accessable toilet. In 1996 I could not get to certain V&A museum exhibits "because it is a Grade 1 building and we cannot build a lift in", yet they could not explain to me why Starbucks was allowed to have a coffee vending kiosk right on top of the gravestones in Westminster Cathedral.

But time has passed, and legislation has been passed, and it seems that some of the people who were so obstinate have passed as well, passed on that is. It is amazing to see how, when there is the will (or maybe the law) just how creative and innovative architects and builders can be in providing access for wheelchairs. It is equally interesting to see how financial resources can be freed up as well. The entire South Bank has been integrated and paved. One can roll down to Waterloo Station, catch a train (thanks to access ramps) to Hampton Court and tour Henry VIII's castle fitted with lifts and ramps and accessable toilets. Items which ole' Henry probably would have given his eye teeth for! Most of the bridges across the Thames are accessable. The majority of the famous red buses are fitted with wheelchair lifts. A large percentage of the city taxi's provide wheelchair access. Public toilets have private accessable cubicles, with fussy caretakers to boot! The nett result is a historic city which is now relatively easy to navigate in a wheelchair.

Much of the access is unobtrusive, with ramps being integrated with stairs, to the extent that the average Londoner is probably not even aware of its existance. As we have been pointing out to city planners for decades, this not only serves to assist disabled commuters, but also the elderly, mothers with prams, delivery personnel, etc. The cost of this access is negligible relative to all the development taking place, the benefit is potentially huge, as has been shown with the awarding of the 2012 Olympics and Paralympics to the city.

Access is about removing obstacles. Ten years ago London was riddled with obstacles, the largest of which were mental. During this period there has been a mind shift, a big one, and suddenly the obstacles have been cleared away and replaced with opportunities. The way to achieve this turn-around is not very difficult, nor is it expensive, all it requires is the will to do so.