The Forgotten in the Flames: Why Emergency Planning Must Include Disabled People

A scene of intense wildfires, with palm trees and vegetation engulfed in flames, embers scattering through the air, and a vibrant orange hue dominating the environment.

Reading the recent story from Sonja Sharp at Los Angeles Times about Anthony Mitchell Sr. and his son Justin—a father and son who both had disabilities and died because of inadequate evacuation planning during the devastating LA wildfires—has left me angry and heartbroken. Their deaths were preventable, and yet they were left to wait, pray, and perish. This tragic event reflects systemic failures that disabled people, like me, fear every day.

I can’t ignore how often disabled people are overlooked in emergency planning.

Growing up, I was never truly part of evacuation plans. After 9/11, I remember my math teacher pointing to a football player and saying, “Ryan, that’s your escape plan.” That moment encapsulated the lack of planning, forethought, and value placed on the lives of disabled individuals. Now, as an adult living in a 25-story high-rise in D.C., those fears haven’t gone away. During fire drills or alarms, the elevator shuts down, the hallway doors automatically lock, and I’m left wondering: “Will anyone come?” I’m on supposed watch lists, but those plans are never practiced. The truth is, I don’t have faith that help will come when it matters most.

Anthony Mitchell Sr., an amputee who used a wheelchair, and Justin Mitchell, who had cerebral palsy, couldn’t escape on their own. Firefighters stopped family members from entering the evacuation zone to save them. As the flames closed in, they huddled together, waiting for a rescue that never came.

Officials have known for years that disabled individuals are disproportionately impacted by disasters. A 2019 state audit highlighted how emergency management agencies were woefully unprepared for this threat, despite California being home to 4 million disabled residents, including nearly a quarter-million in Los Angeles​

We can and must do better. Emergency response plans need to be inclusive, regularly practiced, and accessible to everyone. This means involving disabled individuals in planning processes, investing in assistive technology, and ensuring first responders are trained to address the needs of disabled people during disasters.

We’re one-fourth of the global population. Our lives are just as valuable, and our voices need to be heard. Let’s stop apologizing after the fact and start making proactive changes now. The cost of inaction is far too great.

Accessibility at Disney: A Conversation We Need to Have

Cinderella Castle at Walt Disney World in Florida, a majestic and iconic fairytale castle with blue rooftops, golden spires, and pink and gray walls. The setting includes a clear sky and a few decorations in the foreground, emphasizing the grandeur and magical atmosphere of the castle.

Growing up in Los Angeles, some of my best childhood memories were at The Walt Disney Company parks with friends. For a little while, the challenges of living with a disability seemed to fade away. I felt free, just another kid thrilled by the magic of Disney. Sure, entering rides through the exit to skip the long lines wasn’t a perfect system—it drew attention to my differences—but it made those moments possible. I used to joke with my friends: “Want to trade disabilities for this perk?” Unsurprisingly, no one ever did. Guess the FastPass for chronic pain wasn’t worth it.

Decades later, Disney’s recent changes to its Disability Access Service and the growing shortage of Electric Conveyance Vehicles have created significant barriers, leaving many wondering if inclusivity still has a place in the magic.

For years, DAS offered a lifeline, providing virtual queues that allowed disabled guests to avoid physically taxing lines. But in 2024, new restrictions left many who had relied on the service feeling excluded. Black Enterprise Magazine reports a recent study shared with the IAAPA found nearly half of those denied DAS said they’d visit Disney parks less often; over a third said they wouldn’t return at all. A spokesperson for DAS Defenders summed it up perfectly: “The changes to DAS and the ECV shortage are creating barriers for disabled guests who simply want to enjoy the parks.”

The ECV shortage has only made things worse. Disney positioned these vehicles as an alternative to DAS, yet supply can’t keep up with demand. A photo that went viral of a sign at Magic Kingdom announcing all ECVs were sold out for the day struck a nerve. For those of us who rely on mobility aids, this isn’t just an inconvenience—it’s a dealbreaker. Imagine being told “the most magical place on Earth” has everything but a seat for you. These changes appear driven by cost-cutting rather than a genuine commitment to inclusivity.

Accessibility isn’t a bonus feature. It’s the foundation for creating spaces where everyone can participate fully. Disney has made strides in other areas, but these recent decisions cast doubt on whether they’re truly listening to their disabled guests. For a company built on the promise of magic for all, this feels like a step backward.

Still, I believe change is possible. Disney can revisit its DAS policies, ensure adequate ECV availability, and engage with disability advocates to craft a more inclusive strategy. After all, a more inclusive Disney isn’t just better for disabled guests; it’s better for everyone.

This isn’t just about Disney, though. It’s a reminder that accessibility is a collective responsibility. Whether at work, in public spaces, or at amusement parks, we all have a role to play in building a world where inclusion isn’t an afterthought but a given.

Why Lying About Disability Hurts Everyone

Silhouetted wheelchair user navigating through a bustling airport terminal during sunrise or sunset, with warm golden light streaming in from large windows ahead. The reflection of the light creates a glowing effect on the polished floor. Other travelers with luggage are blurred in the background, adding a sense of motion and activity to the scene.

Thanksgiving this year marked a bittersweet milestone for me: my first flight since the passing of my service dog, Canine Companions® Pico. Navigating air travel without his steadying presence was an emotional adjustment, but it also brought a new set of challenges to the forefront—ones I hadn’t anticipated as a wheelchair user.

Picture this: It’s the early hours of the morning, and I’m at DCA, waiting to board my flight to Seattle. Between navigating Transportation Security Administration (TSA) Pre-check, managing my luggage, and coordinating the safe onboarding of my wheelchair, I was already juggling more than most travelers might consider. And then came the questions.

The heightened interest in the mechanics of my Alber GmbH power-assist wheels meant fielding inquiries from airline staff who were understandably curious about the technology I rely on for mobility. Half-asleep and longing for coffee, I found myself explaining the specs of my chair like I was pitching a new gadget on Shark Tank ABC.

The lesson I learned? Preparation is survival. Much like I once traveled with paperwork to verify Pico’s working status, I now carry a one-page cheat sheet detailing everything about my wheelchair frame and wheels. It’s a necessity for safety reasons, and because of the pervasive scrutiny many disabled travelers face—scrutiny amplified by dishonest actions like those described in a recent viral story.

A passenger on a United Airlines flight tried to exploit early boarding by claiming he had a disability due to recent knee surgery. However, his actions unraveled when he requested a seat in the exit row, where passengers must confirm their ability to assist in emergencies—something Federal Aviation Administration regulations prohibit for people with certain disabilities. Faced with the choice of admitting he lied or forfeiting the coveted exit row seat, he indignantly claimed he was suddenly "fine" to sit there after all.

When individuals fake disabilities, it undermines the trust needed for systems like pre-boarding to work. Those of us with legitimate needs find ourselves subjected to greater scrutiny. Additionally, exploiting accommodations reinforces the false idea that they’re perks instead of rights—conveniences to be gamed rather than tools for equity. This attitude chips away at the dignity of those who rely on these systems. Disability is not a monolith, but one thing unites us: the barriers we face are real. Every "clever hack" or deception makes the rest of us pay a higher price, emotionally, physically, and logistically.

We, as a society, must do better. We must normalize empathy over suspicion and remember that accessibility isn’t just a checkbox on a corporate DEIA plan—it’s a commitment to dignity, inclusion, and equity for all.

Planning to lie about a disability to get early boarding? Read this

Rest Easy, Pico

A montage grid of photos featuring Ryan and Pico

Many of you know me for my advocacy work around disability rights, accessibility, and inclusion. Those who have followed my journey also know what an integral part of that advocacy my service dog, Canine Companions® Pico, has been. He was not just my companion but a key part of my mission to break down barriers and create a more inclusive world.

Last night, I had to say goodbye to my best friend, my partner, and my loyal service dog, Pico. Nearly 13 years of unwavering loyalty, love, and trust — Pico was more than a service dog. He made me a better human, a better advocate, and someone who could navigate the challenges of the world with confidence.

Waking up to the quiet today hits hard. It’s a silence I wasn’t ready for. Pico not only helped me navigate the world physically, but he also helped me grow as a person and reminded me every day of the power of loyalty, patience, and love.

Rest easy, Pico. You’ve earned your peace. Thank you for being the most amazing boy. I’ll carry your lessons and your love with me always.

One Step Away: Reflecting on Trump's Narrow Escape and Disability

Law enforcement officers gather at the campaign rally site for Republican presidential candidate former President Trump.

Evan Vucci/AP

This weekend's events at Donald Trump's rally in Pennsylvania have left us all grappling with numerous questions. How could such a security failure occur? What were the motivations behind the shooting? How will this historic moment reshape US politics in the 2024 election? Amidst the whirlwind of these discussions, one question has been persistently echoing in my mind: What does this assassination attempt say about our current views on disability in this country?

As someone who lives with multiple disabilities, this question is not just rhetorical. Former President Donald Trump has openly and notoriously mocked disabled individuals and wounded veterans. The irony is that by sheer luck, he narrowly avoided becoming part of the community he has so often disparaged. This incident starkly reminds us that we are all just one moment away from joining the ranks of the disabled community.

During the chaos following the shooting, Democratic strategist Johnny Palmadessa told Reuters he witnessed elderly and disabled attendees struggling to evacuate the venue. He described scenes of mothers shielding their children from bullets, husbands protecting their wives, and elderly people giving up on trying to escape because they couldn't move quickly enough. Palmadessa observed, "I watched elderly people struggle to leave fast enough. Some of them practically gave up and decided, I'm just going to wait here because I can't get out right now. That's not okay."

This heartbreaking reality is all too familiar to many of us in the disability community. During emergencies, our needs are often overlooked, leaving us vulnerable and, at times, resigned to our fate. The U.S. Secret Service, while prioritizing the protection of the president, has a responsibility to ensure the safety of all attendees, including those with disabilities. Their failure to do so at this event is a glaring oversight that demands immediate rectification.

The broader implications of this incident extend beyond just the physical safety of disabled individuals at public events. It forces us to confront how deeply ingrained ableism is in our society. Trump's history of mocking disabled individuals is not just offensive; it's indicative of a societal mindset that devalues and disregards the disabled community. As a result, the protections and considerations that should be in place are often absent.

We must advocate for inclusive emergency preparedness plans that account for the needs of disabled individuals. This includes ensuring accessible egress routes, providing adequate assistance during emergencies, and training all personnel on how to effectively support disabled attendees. The Trump assassination attempt is a stark reminder that our current systems are insufficient and that immediate action is necessary to prevent future tragedies.

Starbucks' Third Place Promise: Where Accessibility Falls Short

As a disability advocate, I've always believed in the power of inclusive design and accessibility. Today, I find myself reflecting on these values, especially as we approach Thanksgiving—a time to be thankful, yet also a time to acknowledge the work that remains in creating truly accessible spaces.

Recently, my experience at a newly renovated local Starbucks brought these issues into sharp focus. Starbucks often promotes its Third Place Policy, emphasizing a welcoming environment for all. While the staff's helpfulness and welcoming nature are commendable, the reality of navigating an inaccessible space independently tells a different story.

The renovation, which I had hoped would improve accessibility, resulted in narrower pathways, fewer seating options for those with disabilities, and a lack of automatic door buttons. This isn't just about convenience; it's about the fundamental right to access public spaces independently.

This experience isn't isolated. It reflects a broader issue highlighted in a Toronto Star article, where a new bike lane was criticized for its inaccessibility, raising questions about who designs and approves such projects. Similarly, Mark Raymond, Jr. CEO of the Split Second Foundation, emphasizes in FacilitiesNet/NFMT that the ADA was a "touchdown," but the game is far from over. He stresses the importance of going beyond ADA compliance to truly understanding the disabled experience.

As we near Thanksgiving, I am reminded that while we should be thankful for those who champion accessibility, gratitude should not be the endpoint. Acknowledging our rights to accessible spaces is one thing; actively ensuring these spaces are truly accessible is another.

Organizations, especially those like Starbucks that pride themselves on being a 'Third Place,' must realize that an environment cannot be welcoming if it cannot be independently navigated by all. This Thanksgiving, let's be thankful for progress made, but also commit to advocating for the changes still needed.

As we continue our journey towards a more inclusive world, let's remember that accessibility is not a privilege; it's a right. It's time for all organizations to listen, learn, and act.

‘Who designed this, who approved this?’ New Eglinton bike lane ‘illegal’, says lawyer and disability activist

Beyond Compliance: The Art of Fostering Accessibility in Your Organization

Business colleagues discussing architecture project in office.

Honored once again to be featured as a LinkedIn #TopVoice for Disability as we continue the fight for equality.

As we continue celebrating Disability Pride Month, let's address a critical issue: workplace accessibility. This isn't just about compliance; it's about fostering an environment where everyone, regardless of abilities or neurodiversity, can thrive.

A recent Forbes piece by Bérénice Magistretti notes that "80% of disabilities are invisible," including conditions like visual impairment, mental health issues, and chronic diseases. These often go unrecognized, leading to a lack of understanding and support.

Organizations can initiate change by acknowledging these invisible disabilities. The Hidden Disabilities Sunflower 💜 network provides a discreet method for individuals to indicate they have a non-visible disability, adopted by thousands of businesses worldwide.

However, recognition is just the first step. To genuinely prioritize accessibility, organizations must provide reasonable accommodations. These can range from assistive technology for those with visual impairments to flexible work arrangements for those with chronic conditions. The U.S. Department of Labor's Job Accommodation Network reported in May that nearly half of these accommodations can be implemented for free.

Disclosing a disability can be intimidating due to fear of discrimination. However, open communication can lead to better support and understanding, fostering a more inclusive workplace. When an employee chooses to disclose a disability, believe them. As a leader your first question should be "How can I support you in your role?" Normalize saying 'yes' instead of 'prove it.'

Psychology Today reports that "while 25 percent of employees self-identify as having a disability...most companies report that just 4 to 7 percent of their employees are people with disabilities." The latest Disability:IN 2023 DEI echoed these findings with a median 4.6 percent of companies reporting self identification of disabled employees. This discrepancy underscores the need for more open dialogue and understanding.

Furthermore, we must remember the importance of creating accessible physical spaces and promoting diversity and inclusion initiatives. Employers should ensure that their facilities accommodate individuals with physical disabilities. Encouraging the active participation of disabled employees in decision-making processes can foster a sense of belonging and representation.

Let's use Disability Pride Month as a catalyst for change, making our workplaces more inclusive and accessible for all. Prioritizing accessibility is an ongoing journey that requires commitment, adaptation, and continuous learning.

Why We Need To Bring More Visibility To Invisible Disabilities And Illnesses

Linkedin News

Threads: A Missed Opportunity for Accessibility and Inclusion

A mobile phone with one iteration of the logo for the new social media app Threads.

As a disability advocate and a person with disabilities, I am disheartened to witness the launch of Meta's new social media platform, Threads, without the inclusion of basic accessibility features. This is especially disappointing as we celebrate Disability Pride Month.

Threads, which is being touted as a competitor to Twitter, seems to have missed the mark when it comes to accommodating users with disabilities. Chase DiBenedetto of Mashable writes, "in a strange step back for the tech giant, the hours-old platform...doesn't seem to accommodate those with disabilities well, offering few accessibility tools, customization options, or site policies on its accessibility features at large."

In 2023, launching a new product is not an excuse to ignore disability and treat those with accessibility needs as an afterthought. Threads is competing with a platform whose crumbling infrastructure is due in part to that same mindset following a takeover by Elon Musk.

As someone with a visual impairment, I rely heavily on assistive technology and accessibility tools to navigate the web. The lack of accessibility features in Threads is not just an oversight; it's a barrier that prevents individuals like me from participating in online conversations and communities. It's a far cry from Mark Zuckerberg's claim that the platform will "focus on kindness." You can't do that through exclusion.

Accessibility is not an afterthought; it is a fundamental aspect of design and development. The principle of Universal Design promotes environments and tools that prioritize use by all people without the need for specialized accommodations. Allon Mason CEO and founder of web accessibility company UserWay.org, rightly points out, "Digital platforms have a responsibility to be inclusive, and it is essential that accessibility is at the forefront of their design considerations."

Threads' lack of accessibility features is a stark reminder of the ongoing struggle for digital inclusion. It is imperative for social media platforms to recognize and address the diverse needs of all users, including those with disabilities.

As a community, we must hold these platforms accountable and advocate for the integration of accessibility features. It is not just about compliance; it is about creating an inclusive digital space where everyone, regardless of their abilities, can communicate, connect, and contribute.

I urge Meta to take immediate steps to address the accessibility gaps in Threads and to engage with the disability community in the development and implementation of these features. Let's work together to ensure that social media is inclusive and accessible to all.

Threads gets a failing grade from advocates on accessible design

Are E-Bikes and E-Scooters Making Our Cities Less Accessible?

A series of E-bikes and E-scooters strewn about on the ground obstructing walkways.

Ladies and gentlemen, gather 'round, for I have a tale to tell. It's a tale of two-wheelers, those silent, sneaky, sidewalk-hogging e-bikes and e-scooters. They're the new-(ish) kids on the block, zipping around our cities, promising a greener future, and making pedestrians jump out of their skins. But, oh boy, they're not just giving pedestrians a good scare, they're turning our sidewalks into obstacle courses for the disabled community.

Now, let's take a trip to Seattle University, where e-bikes and scooters have exploded onto the campus scenery like a bad rash. The Spectator at Seattle University’s Natalie Kenoyer reported last fall that these contraptions from companies like Lime and Bird are strewn across campus like some kind of modern art installation, blocking ramps and walkways. It's like a bad game of Tetris where the blocks are e-bikes and e-scooters, and the players are disabled individuals just trying to get from point A to point B.

The problem isn’t limited to college campuses, either. Canine Companions® Pico and I encounter them almost daily in Washington, D.C. and when we travel across the country.

And it's not just a problem here in the U.S. Across the pond in the UK, a new report by think tank Policy Exchange tells a similar tale. Disabled parliamentarians are calling out the councils and the Department for Transport (DfT), United Kingdom for their "passivity." It's like they're saying, "Hey, we didn't sign up for this level of Extreme Sidewalk Survivor!"

So, what's the solution? Well, Policy Exchange suggests fining users who leave their e-bikes or e-scooters obstructing the pavement. I mean, if you can't park it, don't ride it, right? In Seattle ride-sharing companies work in collaboration with the city to establish e-bike and scooter use regulation zones as a condition of their operation. However, as with all regulation, it's only as good as its enforcement.

Let's reclaim our sidewalks from these two-wheeled terrors. Let's make our cities accessible for all, because everyone deserves the right to navigate their city without feeling like they're on an episode of Wipeout.

Remember, sidewalks are for walking, not for your discarded e-bike. Let's make our cities accessible again and ensure that no one feels like a second-class citizen in their own city. And for the love of all that is good, learn to park your e-bike.

Dumped e-bikes ‘dangerous’ for the disabled, think tank report finds

From Inclusion to Exclusion: The Impact of Remote Work Reduction on Disabled Employees

A desktop computer sitting on top of a wooden desk.

As we navigate the post-pandemic world, many companies, including Farmers Insurance Group, Meta, The Walt Disney Company, Lyft, and Amazon, are scaling back remote work options. This decision, while seemingly benign, has profound implications for employees with disabilities.

The shift to remote work during the pandemic was a boon for many disabled employees. It eliminated commuting challenges, provided a comfortable work environment, and offered flexibility for medical appointments. The rollback of remote work threatens to undo these gains, potentially pushing disabled employees out of the workforce.

Meta's recent decision to require employees to return to the office three days a week starting in September is a case in point. A Meta spokesperson stated, "We're committed to distributed work, and we're confident people can make a meaningful impact both from the office and at home." However, the decision to limit remote work options contradicts this statement, particularly for disabled employees for whom "home" is not just a convenience, but a necessity.

Mark Zuckerberg, Meta's CEO, hinted at this change when he said that their internal analysis showed engineers who work in person "get more done." This perspective, while potentially valid for some, fails to consider the unique circumstances of disabled employees. For them, the ability to work remotely isn't about productivity alone; it's about accessibility and inclusion.

The scaling back of remote work options by these major companies sends a disheartening message to disabled employees: our needs are secondary. It's a stark reminder that the corporate world still has a long way to go in truly embracing diversity and inclusion.

We must advocate for a more inclusive approach to work arrangements, one that recognizes the unique needs and contributions of all employees, including those with disabilities.

Remote work should not be seen as a temporary pandemic measure, but as a permanent option that can foster a more diverse and inclusive workforce.

A New CEO Says Employees Can’t Work Remotely After All, and They Revolt