ADA34

The Floor, Not the Ceiling: Continuing the ADA's Legacy

A brick wall with a round button labeled "PUSH TO OPEN" featuring a wheelchair accessibility symbol.

All month long, I've been reflecting a lot on how disability is so often misunderstood. The Americans with Disabilities Act was a groundbreaking achievement for disability rights. But let's be real—it should be seen as the floor, not the ceiling, for what we aim to achieve.

A major misconception about disability is viewing it as a monolithic experience. It's not. Disability is vast, varied, and beautiful. Just like NPR readers pointed out, “Disabilities aren't one size fits all” and “not all disabilities are visible or immediately recognizable.” This diversity within our community needs more acknowledgment and understanding. We must break free from narrow definitions of what’s considered a “legitimate” disability. The ADA definition of disability is broad, in large part due to the recognition that disability affects everyone differently.

The ADA has indeed been instrumental in advancing the rights of people with disabilities. It opened doors and provided legal protection against discrimination. Yet, as Andrew Pulrang emphasizes, the ADA is often seen as “toothless” because of inconsistent enforcement and the persistent barriers—both physical and societal—that we encounter daily. Accessibility should be a basic right, not an inconvenience that gets ignored when it’s costly or challenging.

People’s ideas of what disability looks like are often so limited. They have these fixed notions that lead to gatekeeping and judgment. I remember when I got matched with Canine Companions® Pico, in 2014. Moving through the world with him opened my eyes to many nuances of disability access. Even though I’ve been disabled my whole life, being a new service dog handler was an entirely new experience. Pico and I faced challenges, but we also created positive change by challenging perceptions of what we could accomplish as a team.

True inclusion begins with empathy and a willingness to understand the varied experiences of those of us with disabilities. It means challenging preconceived notions and really listening to the voices within our community. As one NPR reader aptly put it, “Disability is not a fate worse than death. You can adapt, and you would if you suddenly became disabled.”

“Our disabilities are not flaws to be fixed, but integral parts of our identities that shape our unique perspectives and strengths,” Kim Chua told NPR. “We’re not defined solely by our disabilities. We’re whole, complex individuals with dreams, talents, and contributions to make.” By fostering a culture of empathy and understanding, we can work toward a society that truly values and includes everyone. The ADA was just the starting point, but our journey toward full equity and inclusion is ongoing. Let’s keep moving forward together.

As we close out Disability Pride, remember to lead with empathy and curiosity.

What NPR readers want you to know about living with a disability-readers-stories


Disability Pride: Beyond the Celebratory Facade

A wheelchair user wearing a superhero cape navigates a city street filled with obstacles like stairs and debris. The cityscape includes tall buildings, narrow doorways, and inaccessible paths.

Disability is like any other complex relationship, filled with highs and lows. Some days are easy, some days are challenging, and some days we triumph over societal barriers—lack of access, accommodations, empathy, or compassion. And then there are days when we’re simply too exhausted to fight and need time to recoup. We don’t owe anyone 24/7 optimism, even during Disability Pride Month, but that doesn’t mean our lives hold any less value.

My entrepreneurial father Craig Honick once told me, “Advocate so well you put yourself out of business.” It’s a lofty goal I still think about often. Ideally, we’d live in a world where disability awareness is ingrained in our societal fabric. But we’re not there yet. So, we fight. The progress we’ve made excites us, but the fight is exhausting, and we feel it deeply. As the calendar flips to a new month, we’ll still be here, fighting, and we’ll still be disabled.

Throughout this month, I and other advocates have spotlighted daily examples of our community’s struggle for basic equity and inclusion. But awareness without action is empty. Now that you’re aware of the struggles, what are you going to do? Too often, our voices are drowned out by our non-disabled peers. So here’s our ask: pass the mic when you can, amplify our stories, and when you see something wrong, speak up. We need your allyship not just in July, but all year long.

Emily Ladau put it best on the latest episode of The Accessible Stall podcast: “Sometimes I just don’t feel like practicing [Disability Pride]. I’m exhausted.” This sentiment resonates deeply. Pride in our disability is indeed an ongoing practice, a muscle that needs stretching. Awareness is step one. What will you do to be a better ally once the spotlight dims?

Here are some actionable steps to support disability advocacy and inclusion:

• Educate Yourself and Others: Learn about the issues facing the disability community and share this knowledge with those around you.

• Amplify Disabled Voices: Use your platform to highlight the stories and experiences of disabled individuals. Folks like Kristen Parisi, Tiffany A. Yu, MSc, Alexa Heinrich, Marisa Hamamoto, Margaux Joffe, CPACC, 🦻 Meryl Evans, CPACC (deaf), Keely Cat-Wells, Julie Harris, Jamie Shields, Catarina Rivera, MSEd, MPH, CPACC, Donna Cruz Jones, Sheri Byrne-Haber (disabled) and so many others who do amazing work.

• Advocate for Accessibility: Push for accessible practices in your workplace, community, and beyond. Accessibility benefits everyone.

• Offer Genuine Support: Ask disabled people what support looks like for them and follow through.

• Speak Up: When you see discrimination or inaccessibility, don’t stay silent. Use your voice to advocate for change.

Let’s move beyond just awareness. Let’s take action together to create a more inclusive and equitable world for all. Your allyship matters every day.

Piecing It Together: A Story of Self-Discovery and Disability Awareness

A festive indoor celebration scene for the 34th anniversary of the Americans with Disabilities Act. The centerpiece is a large two-tiered cake decorated with the Disability Parking Symbol in blue. The top of the cake features lit candles and large number "34" candles. The cake is inscribed with the message "Happy 34th Anniversary of the Americans with Disabilities Act." The background is adorned with colorful balloons and streamers, creating a joyful and vibrant party atmosphere.

As we celebrate the 34th anniversary of the Americans with Disabilities Act, I want to share a story close to my heart. It's about my best friend, who, in her early thirties, has only recently come to realize she's been disabled for much of her life. Her journey of self-discovery is a testament to the complex and unique paths we each take to understand our own disabilities.

Growing up, she was that quirky, clumsy teenager who fell down all the time. Friends joked that someone needed to be nearby to catch her, and frequent ER visits were chalked up to her being "accident prone." High heels? A fashion no-go because of her wobbly ankles. Gym class? A nightmare, especially when a heart condition—misdiagnosed for years—made sustained exercise impossible.

Her life was a series of "quirks" that never quite added up. Hypermobile joints, ADHD symptoms, and a heart that often felt like it was drowning were all dismissed as part of her "unique charm." It wasn't until her mid-twenties that the pieces started falling into place with proper diagnoses: hypermobility, inappropriate sinus tachycardia, and an ongoing assessment for ADHD.

Reflecting on her journey, she realized how internalized ableism and a lack of confidence about what "counts" as a disability had prevented her from embracing her disabled identity. She had tried to fit into the mold of the manic pixie dream girl, cultivating her issues as endearing quirks rather than recognizing them as signs of her disabilities.

Dating, too, was fraught with challenges. She constantly worried about keeping up with potential partners who enjoyed activities like hiking and running—activities her body couldn't always handle. This anxiety stemmed from societal perceptions of disability hierarchies and the pressure to be "normal."

Her story is a powerful reminder that disability journeys can begin at any time and are often unexpected. Understanding disability through formal or informal diagnosis provides a unique lens and vocabulary to better understand oneself. It's a journey of discovery, relief, and pride.

On this anniversary of the ADA, let's celebrate not only those who fought for our rights but also those just beginning to understand and embrace their disabilities. Their stories are vital in the ongoing fight for diversity, equity, inclusion, and access.

The Power of Words: Trump's Harsh Views vs. Biden's Compassion

A disabled parking logo is depicted with blood dripping down, symbolizing the erroneous belief that disabled people should die. The scene is a dark and eerie, with the surrounding environment having a grim and foreboding atmosphere, including dark, leafless trees and a misty background.

I can’t stop thinking about President Biden’s address to the nation last night—his first since deciding to exit the 2024 race. His speech was filled with humanity and a focus on inclusion, qualities that starkly contrast with sentiments expressed by Donald Trump, as revealed in a recent TIME Magazine article by Fred Trump III.

Biden’s words from the Oval Office were profound: “We have to decide: Do we still believe in honesty, decency, respect, freedom, justice, and democracy? In this moment, we can see those we disagree with not as enemies but as fellow Americans.” This message of unity and respect is essential, especially as we celebrate the 34th anniversary of the Americans with Disabilities Act. The ADA, passed under the George H.W. Bush administration, is more contested than ever in today’s political climate. I’m not sure it would pass Congress in 2024.

Contrast this with the shocking statements from Donald Trump, as recounted by his nephew Fred Trump III. Fred’s article reveals a chilling disregard for disabled people. President Trump reportedly said at the height of COVID-19, “The shape they’re in, all the expenses, maybe those kinds of people should just die,” in reference to his own blood. These words are not just hurtful; they are a stark reminder of how far we still have to go in fighting for the rights and dignity of all Americans.

Biden’s commitment to disability rights has been evident throughout his administration. His support for updates to Section 508 of the Rehabilitation Act is a critical step forward. “The federal government has an obligation to ensure that its services are accessible to people with disabilities, including its websites and technology,” said Senator Bob Casey, co-sponsor of the proposed updates. This legislation aims to make federal technology accessible to all Americans, ensuring that no one is left behind.

I use a wheelchair. I handle a service dog. I leverage assistive technology to navigate the web due to my visual impairment. These updates are not just necessary; they are vital. It’s not just about physical barriers; it’s about breaking down attitudinal ones as well.

Biden’s words remind us that we are all in this together: “We are a great nation because we are a good people...The power’s in your hands. The idea of America lies in your hands. You just have to keep faith.” In contrast, Trump’s comments reflect a divisiveness that undermines the progress we’ve made and the values we stand for.

As we approach this significant anniversary of the ADA, let’s remember the work that still needs to be done. Let’s continue to fight for a world where everyone, regardless of their abilities, has equal access to opportunities and resources. When given the respect and dignity we deserve, we not only thrive, we persevere. The only thing that needs to die is ableism.

My Uncle Donald Trump Told Me Disabled Americans Like My Son ‘Should Just Die’