The Broken Promises of Accessible Travel: A First-Hand Perspective

An artistic rendering of a wheelchair user on an airplane, He sits in his chair in the main cabin. Head slightly down. Looking outside the window.

Today, I find myself echoing the eloquent Inigo Montoya from "The Princess Bride."

"Accessibility: You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means."

The prospect of spontaneously selecting a destination and embarking on a journey has never been feasible for me, whether it's a simple night out or a more extended travel. There's always a near-reflexive need for research, extensive planning and, unfortunately, a dose of apprehension about the journey ahead. An unavoidable question looms: "Will this trip be as disability-friendly as it claims to be?"

From the moment a trip idea sparks, anxiety follows.

A recent USA TODAY article by Zach Wichter underscored a disheartening truth: Progress for disabled travelers is not coming fast enough. According to the latest U.S. Department of Transportation data, airlines damage or otherwise mishandle about 1.5% of the mobility devices they transport each month. In 2022, that meant 11,389 incidents. It's essential to note these figures may not fully represent the issue, as not everyone reports their damage to the airline. When your legs are broken, the bureaucracy of filing paperwork may feel insurmountable.

Every trip brings with it the fear of damage to my wheelchair. More than a mobility device, it's an extension of myself, and much like Canine Companions® Pico, integral to my autonomy and freedom. The idea of it being damaged, lost or mishandled during a flight isn't unfounded, and no amount of in-flight entertainment can alleviate that anxiety.

Travel can be equally challenging for those with non-physical disabilities. As Heather Ansley from Paralyzed Veterans of America aptly said, “Air travel discriminates against just about every group of people with disabilities."

Fears extend beyond the flight.

Will the hotel room genuinely be wheelchair-accessible? I can't count how many times I've booked rooms purportedly adhering to ADA guidelines that I physically couldn't enter. Actuators are missing, doors are heavy, and I often lack the necessary space to maneuver through the doorway. The same quizzical response usually follows when I raise these issues to hotel management: "You know, that's a good point. We'll look into that!"

Then there's the enjoyment of the trip itself.

Can I navigate independently? What types of pathways are available? Will I be able to visit local attractions, or will I encounter insurmountable steps or broken elevators? When I inquire about accessibility, I'm asking, 'Can I navigate this by myself?' It's not a prelude to a joke about how many non-disabled people it takes for a disabled person to enjoy autonomy.

Accessibility isn't merely about adding ramps or widening doorways. It's about genuinely understanding and addressing the unique needs of each individual.

While it's encouraging to see progress — like Sen. Duckworth's proposed MOBILE Act—we are still far from where we need to be.

#GlobalAccessibilityAwarenessDay #Travel

Cruising Altitude: Progress for disabled travelers is not coming fast enough

Airlines Continue Mishandling Wheelchairs at Alarming Rate

"We would never accept airlines breaking the legs of 1 in 65 passengers, and yet, that is essentially what is happening when 1 out of 65 wheelchairs are being broken by airlines."
—Senator Tammy Duckworth to Business Insider.

Traveling as a wheelchair user is an exhausting and stress-inducing experience. Just within this past week this all-too-common occurrence of airlines mishandling wheelchairs has led to a flurry of headlines.

John Morris, founder of WheelchairTravel.org had his wheelchair, valued at $65,000, damaged twice by American Airlines.

Tim Kelly, another wheelchair user, was given airline miles as a "goodwill gesture" after Delta Air Lines forgot to put his chair on his flight from New York to Dublin, and worse, mishandled the chair on the return flight after it arrived causing significant damage.

Patty Bough, 85, was stranded at Orlando International Airport - MCO for 14 hours after Frontier Airlines left her unattended following a missed flight.

Wheelchair users are being forgotten, and the consequences are dire. Airlines often treat us, and our very expensive medical equipment, like trash.

This is not a new problem. Outside of the disability community there seems to be little outrage.

With newly released data from U.S. Department of Transportation showing an average of 35.8 wheelchairs are mishandled by airlines daily, and the uptick in news stories highlighting the anxiety of traveling as a wheelchair user, I wanted to take this opportunity to share an article I wrote last summer for Rooted in Rights detailing why this is such a huge problem for the disability community and why holding airlines accountable is essential.

Change is glacially slow, and occasionally backward. I am grateful to Senator Duckworth for being a leading voice on this issue. She is the very reason airlines are required to provide statistics on mishandled equipment at all.

Another perfect example of why representation matters.

When Your Wheelchair is Your Legs: Holding Airlines Accountable For Broken Mobility Equipment

When Your Wheelchair is Your Legs: Holding Airlines Accountable For Broken Mobility Equipment

Travel these days gives me a bit more anxiety than it used to. It’s never easy, as I wrote about years ago, and a lot has changed. There’s my usual luggage, and my service dog, Pico. He is truly a joy to fly with as he rests at my feet and naps for the entire flight. There’s my custom-fit wheelchair with power-assist wheels, which took 18 months to obtain through insurance and still left me with several thousand dollars in out-of-pocket costs. Expensive? Sure. However, it’s a small price to pay for independence. So understandably, when I travel, there’s added stress when it comes to the treatment of my wheels by the airline. There are things we can do as wheelchair users to reduce the likelihood of damage, but as with anything in life, there are no guarantees. Traveling is especially stressful for wheelchair users. It’s why many of us avoid flying altogether.

As a wheelchair user, I’m entrusting an airline with the very thing that enables me to move freely throughout my day. Once I’m at the gate, I hope all my carefully articulated instructions are followed and that my chair is handled appropriately. I know some people who are nervous flyers. If they are religious, some will cross themselves to ensure a safe landing. The entire time I’m flying I’m wondering, “Will my ‘legs’ work when we land?” There isn’t enough in-flight entertainment to quell that fear.

When disability advocate and writer Kristen Parisi shared with me her tale of airline travel hell, I was saddened but not surprised. “We landed, and they didn’t know where my chair was,” she recalls. “There was no apology, no acknowledgement of how I must be feeling in this moment. They were more focused on getting me off the plane so the crew could go home. Airlines don’t care. They treat our chairs like they are pieces of luggage. Those are my limbs. I need them to survive and they treat it like trash.”

Parisi reflected that disabled people “are constantly forced to be advocates because society would rather just brush us off and not just deal with it. On the days when you’re just trying to have a vacation you still have to be a constant advocate for yourself.”

While the airline did eventually reunite Parisi with her chair after a two hour delay, data shows it’s a far too common occurrence for wheelchair users. Airlines don’t have the greatest track record with mobility equipment. The only reason we knew this is thanks to Senator Duckworth’s own experience, leading to legislation requiring airlines to report on the frequency of these incidents. (This is yet another reason why representation of disability matters, especially in Congress.)

From January to March 2021, Delta Air Lines handled 15,547 wheelchairs and scooters and reportedly mishandled 103 of those, according to the Air Travel Consumer report. Major airlines combined mishandled 712 or 1.19 percent during that same period, which roughly equates to 23 daily instances where a wheelchair user’s mobility equipment sustained damage. That number may seem small, but it’s still too many. If that many animals were dying as a result of negligence there would be an uproar.

Imagine the airline breaking your legs and saying, “We’re sorry. In the meantime, let’s send you to the hospital and we can fight over the bill later!” That’s essentially what happens when a wheelchair is lost or damaged. It’s not supposed to be that hard, but it is. They’re required by law to cover the cost of damage, repair, or replacement but it’s never that simple in practice.

Our mobility equipment is as unique as we are. Rentals aren’t always feasible and repairs take days, weeks, or months. Suddenly that trip you had planned isn’t happening and you’re stuck in a hotel room unable to move. It’s also likely that airlines are underreporting the actual amount of damage that occurs. The process of filing the multiple reports and providing documentation with persistent follow up can be exhausting, and the last thing any wheelchair user wants on top of damaged equipment is added stress. If your legs are broken, your first thought is dealing with the pain, not bureaucracy. When overwhelm kicks in and you’ve got limited time to follow a regimented process it can be anxiety producing, and with an inability to move, literally paralyzing.

Travel has never been easy for anyone, even prior to the pandemic. As we work to establish our new normal, new stressors are par for the course as we learn to navigate them. There is a lot about the future of travel that remains uncertain. One thing remains clear, however. As thoughts about travel begin to reenter the minds of travelers with mobility equipment, the anxiety that comes with our travel isn’t going anywhere. We need to continue raising awareness, making noise, and holding airlines accountable for their mishandling of our equipment. Travel can bring with it tremendous freedom and joy, provided that nobody takes our ‘legs’ out from under us when we land, but we still have a long way to go.