Message of the Day: Human Rights

Fight for Equal Rights Continues, 30th anniversary, ADA, July 26, 2020, Smithsonian

Thirty years ago tomorrow, the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) was signed into law on July 26, 1990.

It was the first time in history in any nation that such a protection under law had been created.Like all struggles for equality, people have fought for it and died for it, for many years.

And like all struggles for equality, they are all interconnected, and when they are not united in fully supporting each other, there is a price to pay.

It’s not a day to be passed over, yet in the main, it will be, in part because of everything else going on.

So we won’t let it be.

Everything else going on couldn’t be more interrelated with the 61 million Americans and one billion people on earth living with some form of disability.

They are, of course, disproportionately impacted by Covid-19, which continues to grow with over 16 million cases and over 650,000 deaths, which has become increasingly personal for us as we write.

The Smithsonian Magazine published an important and enlightening article yesterday, The ADA Was a Monumental Achievement 30 Years Ago, but the Fight for Equal Rights Continues.

The article starts:

For disability rights leader Judy Heumann, the tumult of 2020—first the COVID-19 pandemic, then a reignited movement against racial injustice—underscores just how much work remains to be done.

“Everything’s kind of being thrown into the pot right now, right?” she says.

Heumann has been at the forefront of the fight for equality for disabled Americans. She relishes the hard-won successes but has no misconceptions about how looking back at 30 years since the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) was signed on July 26, 1990, much progress still has to be made.

That day, the United States became the first country to pass comprehensive protections for the basic civil rights of people with disabilities, outlawing discrimination against individuals with disabilities in schools, employment, transportation and other key parts of public life. The ADA would also remake the physical environment of the country by mandating accessibility in public spaces—entry ramps, Braille on signs, automatic doors, curb cuts and lifts on city buses and other measures that make it easier for the more than 61 million Americans living with disabilities to participate fully in society.

Heumann, who contracted polio as a baby and has used a wheelchair most of her life, grew up in Brooklyn, where the local public school refused to let her attend because of her disability. Protections for the civil rights of people with disabilities in those days were limited—neither the 1964 Civil Rights Act nor the 1965 Voting Rights Act had included people with disabilities as a protected class.

Her first foray into activism came in 1970, when Heumann sued the Board of Education of the City of New York to become the city’s first teacher who uses a wheelchair. She later moved to Berkeley, California, where she worked alongside activist Ed Roberts at the Center for Independent Living, a pioneering home for people with disabilities founded on the principles of community and self-empowerment.

In 1977, she, fellow activists Kitty Cone, Brad Lomax and others led a grueling sit-in at a federal building in San Francisco to demand that the government enforce Section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act, which stated that federally funded organizations could not discriminate against people with disabilities. (The new Netflix documentary Crip Camp, produced by Barack and Michelle Obama, includes inspiring documentary footage of the protest.)

The full article and link will follow.

We then post the article on the issue from CNN posted late tonight, titled: ‘Crip Camp’: Where disability rights stand 30 years after these kids fought for recognition and changed the world.

The latter article also covers a new documentary on Netflix on the above, with President Barak Obama and Michelle Obama as co-producers, titled: Crip Camp. We highly recommend it.

Here are the articles and links:

“The ADA Was a Monumental Achievement 30 Years Ago, but the Fight for Equal Rights Continues”

By Nora McGreevy, July 24, 2020

A look back at the fight for disability rights comes with the reckoning of the challenges left unsolved

For disability rights leader Judy Heumann, the tumult of 2020—first the COVID-19 pandemic, then a reignited movement against racial injustice—underscores just how much work remains to be done.

“Everything’s kind of being thrown into the pot right now, right?” she says.

Heumann has been at the forefront of the fight for equality for disabled Americans. She relishes the hard-won successes but has no misconceptions about how looking back at 30 years since the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) was signed on July 26, 1990, much progress still has to be made.

That day, the United States became the first country to pass comprehensive protections for the basic civil rights of people with disabilities, outlawing discrimination against individuals with disabilities in schools, employment, transportation and other key parts of public life. The ADA would also remake the physical environment of the country by mandating accessibility in public spaces—entry ramps, Braille on signs, automatic doors, curb cuts and lifts on city buses and other measures that make it easier for the more than 61 million Americans living with disabilities to participate fully in society.

Heumann, who contracted polio as a baby and has used a wheelchair most of her life, grew up in Brooklyn, where the local public school refused to let her attend because of her disability. Protections for the civil rights of people with disabilities in those days were limited—neither the 1964 Civil Rights Act nor the 1965 Voting Rights Act had included people with disabilities as a protected class.

Her first foray into activism came in 1970, when Heumann sued the Board of Education of the City of New York to become the city’s first teacher who uses a wheelchair. She later moved to Berkeley, California, where she worked alongside activist Ed Roberts at the Center for Independent Living, a pioneering home for people with disabilities founded on the principles of community and self-empowerment.

In 1977, she, fellow activists Kitty Cone, Brad Lomax and others led a grueling sit-in at a federal building in San Francisco to demand that the government enforce Section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act, which stated that federally funded organizations could not discriminate against people with disabilities. (The new Netflix documentary Crip Camp, produced by Barack and Michelle Obama, includes inspiring documentary footage of the protest.)

The 504 sit-in united Americans with different kinds of disabilities—people who were hearing or visually impared, or who used wheelchairs or had mental disabilities—in an unprecedented way, Heumann says. “It empowered us,” she recalls. “Simply put, we were slowly moving from being a rag-tag, unorganized group of disabled people … to a cross-disability movement. We were really recognizing that it was possible for us to envision a day when barriers of discrimination could be torn down… Without the voices of disabled individuals, we would not have gotten 504, the way it ultimately came out, nor would we have been able to get the ADA.”

When President George H.W. Bush finally signed the ADA in 1990, he was flanked by some of the key people who helped its passage, including Justin Dart Jr., the vice chair of the National Council on Disability, who had embarked on an epic nationwide tour to advocate for the legislation just years earlier.

“When it was passed and signed, there was a huge ceremony because it was seen as this amazing national moment, even though the law was imperfect,” says Katherine Ott, the curator in the division of science and medicine at the Smithsonian’s National Museum of American History. “At the moment, it was one of the happiest days in the 20th century for people with disabilities.”

In the three decades that followed, a new generation of Americans with disabilities, known as the “ADA generation,” grew up in a world where their basic rights were protected by the law. But the ADA has its limits.

Thirty years later, experts say that many of the ADA’s promises of universal accessibility have not come to pass—in part because laws like Section 504 and the ADA are predicated on someone litigating, explains Beth Ziebarth, who directs Access Smithsonian, the branch of the Smithsonian Institution that works to make its museums, zoo and research centers accessible to all.

“The mechanism for actually implementing the ADA, in many respects, is the process of somebody with a disability filing a complaint about the lack of accessibility,” Ziebarth says. “That leads to spotty compliance across the country.”

For instance, Heumann notes that air travel—an industry not covered by the ADA—has become “worse and worse” for people with disabilities over the years, particularly when it comes to getting motorized wheelchairs in and out of cargo pits. Technology companies, too, often lag behind in providing accessibility measures for users with disabilities—contributing to what’s known as the “digital divide,” she says.

“The ADA is a very important piece of legislation. But even if it were being implemented as effectively as possible, it still doesn’t address other issues that disabled people are facing,” Heumann says.

Issues of representation for all people with disabilities—and particularly people of color—are now more a part of the conversation than ever. When protests against racial injustice erupted across the country in May after the killing of George Floyd, many disability activists were quick to point out how issues of disability rights and civil rights for African Americans are interconnected, and sometimes overlooked. Studies estimate that one-third to one-half of black Americans killed by the police are experiencing episodes of mental illness or have a disability, although no national database exists to track those statistics, as reporter Abigail Abrams reported for Time last month.

In June, South Carolina-based disability rights activist Vilissa Thompson watched snapshots of the Black Disabled Lives Matter marches in Washington D.C. flood her timeline. “It was really incredible to see,” Thompson says.

At 34 years old, Thompson, who is black and uses a wheelchair, feels lucky to have grown up with the ADA. But the disability movement must also reckon with racism, inclusivity and an intersectional understanding of race and disability, she says.

“If you’re going to talk about black liberation or freedom, disability rights have to be involved in the story, and vice versa,” Thompson says.

On her website, Ramp Your Voice, Thompson has written extensively about black leaders in the Disability Rights Movement whose stories are often left out of the historical narrative, activists like Brad Lomax, who played a pivotal role in the 504 Sit-In by connecting activists with the Black Panther Party, which provided hot meals to the people stuck in the federal building.

In 2016, Thompson started the hashtag #DisabilityTooWhite to draw attention to media stories that center white disabled people, which continues to be used to this day: “We have to understand that black disabled folks have always been a part of both movements, the disability rights movement and the civil rights movement, whether they get acknowledgement or not,” she says.

Apart from the noteworthy anniversary, the ADA made news over a conflation of who and what the ADA specifically protects. A fake badge appropriating the ADA as an excuse to avoid wearing face masks—a claim that the Department of Justice disavowed—has blossomed on Facebook and Twitter during the COVID-19 pandemic.

“Inappropriate use of the ADA is not uncommon,” Thompson says. “It’s upsetting that people are using the ADA in this way to avoid responsibility and what they can do during this time. It’s a grotesque misuse of the mandate.”

Individuals with disabilities who also have underlying chronic illness are likely at higher risk of severe illness from COVID-19, and those living in nursing homes or institutions face higher risks of transmission, Heumann points out. Workers with disabilities have also been disproportionately affected by the financial fallout of the national shutdown, according to initial studies.

The pandemic also brought deep-rooted disparities in medical care against people with disabilities to the fore: in March, for instance, disability rights groups in Washington and Alabama filed complaints against state ventilator rationing plans, as Minyvonne Burke reported for NBC News at the time. These plans suggested that medical professionals could chose to not use ventilators on patients with disabilities in the case of a shortage.

“It was shades of the eugenics issue all over again,” Ziebarth says, referring to the long history of forced sterilization and euthanasia that Americans with disabilities endured, particularly in the late 19th century and early 20th centuries. “That’s kind of a scary reality: we’re not far away from everything going back to where it was in the early 1900s.”

For Ziebarth, it reveals how fragile hard-won progress can be. “We realize that it’s really important for the younger generations to understand that your rights can be taken away from you,” Ziebarth says. “We need to be vigilant. Otherwise we can lose everything that people fought so hard for.”

. . .

‘Crip Camp’: Where disability rights stand 30 years after these kids fought for recognition and changed the world

By Sandee LaMotte, CNN

Sun July 26, 2020

(CNN) Today it would be unthinkable to nickname a summer getaway for children with disabilities “Crip Camp.”

Yet that was the nickname given to Camp Jened, a summer camp for children, teens and adults with disabilities that operated in the Catskill Mountains of New York from 1951 to 1977. The camp is the subject of a documentary on the origins of the disability rights movement released earlier this year.

At ‘Crip Camp,’ kids were made to feel as if they were worthy, intellegent and able.

Before Americans began to see the falsehoods and dangers of such stereotypes, it was common to use terms like gimp, deformed, imbecile, freak, retarded and cripple to describe a person with a disability.

“Today that’s like the ‘N’ word, but that was what you were called in those days. You were seen as crippled and perceived not able to take care of yourself or accomplish things,” said retired Rep. Tony Coelho, who has lived with epilepsy since an accident at age 16.

A California Democrat, Coelho is an author of the ground-breaking Americans with Disabilities Act, which turns 30 on Sunday. The act outlaws discrimination in employment based on physical or mental disability and requires accessibility to buildings and public and private transportation.

Coelho recalled the emotional March day in 1990 when 60 protesters, including 8-year-old Jennifer Keelan, left their wheelchairs to crawl up the 83 steps of the US Capitol unassisted, arriving at the top bloody and bruised but undeterred from their goal of persuading Congress to pass the defining legislation.

“The young people getting out of their wheelchairs, not able to use their lower extremities, but still crawling up those marble steps … ” said Coelho with obvious emotion.

“All of a sudden it was visual: The Capitol steps are not inclusive for people in wheelchairs and for people with disabilities. I knew this was going to really change things. We passed the bill in the House by a big margin.”

Among those protesters were a number of former “Crip” campers. Most spent their summers there during the protests of the late 1960’s and early 1970’s, when the camp counselors, mostly college students, were heavily influenced by hippie counterculture.

“If I have to feel thankful about an accessible bathroom, when am I ever going to be equal in the community?” said former camper Judith Huemann (not pictured), who went on to be a leader in the disability rights movement.

“I want to see a feisty group of disabled people around the world,” said camper Judith Heumann (not pictured). “If you don’t respect yourself and if you don’t demand what you believe in for yourself, you’re not going to get it.”

“Crip Camp” 1968: At Camp Jened in the Catskills, youngsters with disabilities learned to be self-sufficient and proud. Some campers went on to found the disability rights movement that helped pass the Americans with Disabilities Act of 1990.

“It was a utopia — when we were there, there was no outside world,” says camper Denise Sherer Jacobson, smiling at the camera on the far left. Jacobson became a writer and disability educator.

“The ADA was a wonderful achievement. But it was only the tip of the iceberg. You can pass a law but until you can change society’s attitudes, that law won’t mean much,” says Denise Jacobson.

At “Crip Camp,” teenaged campers were encouraged to express their individuality and advocate for themselves. For many, it was the first time they had ever felt valued.

Having fun was encouraged, and for many the experience was enlightening. “What we saw at that camp was that our lives could be better. The fact of the matter is that you don’t have anything to strive for if you don’t know that it exists,” said camper Jimmy Lebrecht (not pictured).

Camper Terri Feinstein has her arms around counselor Steve Hofmann in his wheelchair. Many of the counselors from “Crip Camp” became part of the disability rights movement.

For young people who were used to the world seeing them as incapable and unworthy, the experience was transformative.

“Even when we were that young, we helped empower each other. It was allowing us to recognize that the status quo is not what it needed to be,” said former camper Judith “Judy” Heumann, who had polio as a child and uses a wheelchair.

Heumann is one of the starring characters in “Crip Camp: A Disability Revolution,” which captured acclaim at the Sundance Festival and was released in March on Netflix. The film was produced by Higher Ground Productions, the company founded by former President Barack Obama and former first lady Michelle Obama.

Raw and powerful, shocking and inspiring, the documentary follows Heumann and other former campers as they become nationally visible activists during the 1970s and into the 1980s.

“Crip Camp is both a gripping look at the history of the disability rights movement and a timely call to action, urging us to explore our own duty to fight for the dignity of all people,” Obama said in a statement.

Just out of college in 1969, Heumann applied for a teaching license but was told she was a fire hazard. She sued for discrimination and won. In 1970, she began a disability rights group to advocate for the independent living movement.

Judy Heumann speaks out for disability rights.

In 1977, she and more than 100 disabled activists — including several former Crip Camp alumni — staged a 28-day sit-in at a San Francisco federal building in a bid to influence regulations that were defining the rights of people with disabilities. The dramatic and successful event captured the attention of the nation and set the stage for the 1990 passage of the Americans with Disabilities Act.

“We demonstrated to the entire nation that disabled people could take control over our own lives and take leadership in the struggle for equality,” Heumann said.

The fight continues

Despite the hard-won advances of the last 30 years under the ADA, there are still major hurdles facing the 61 million Americans who have hearing, sight, mobility or cognitive challenges

“The anniversary is really great; it’s important,” Coelho said. “We’ve made a lot of progress, but we need to do more.”

Health care is a major issue for the community. “Adults with disabilities are three times more likely to have heart disease, stroke, diabetes, or cancer than adults without disabilities,” according to the US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

During the coronavirus pandemic, those disparities have become pronounced, with many states choosing to triage people with disabilities, Coelho said, putting them last on lists for ventilators and other lifesaving measures.

“If you have a disability, they say you have less quality of life years than if you don’t have a disability,” he said. “Consequently, if there’s a ventilator, it should go to the person who has a better quality of life or life expectancy.

“We’re aggressively working to change it and we’ll get there. But can you believe they would actually do that in this day and age?” he said.

Another issue that has come to critical mass during the pandemic is a lack of web accessibility.

Some 98% of the top 1 million websites failed guidelines that would make their sites easier to read, navigate or understand, according to the 2020 WebAim Million, an organization that produces a yearly ranking of web accessibility for individuals with disabilities.

Why would being able to fully navigate a website be such a burning issue? Just think about how you pay bills, shop, find a doctor and make an appointment — and especially in the time of Covid-19 — order groceries and anything else.

Coping with disease and disability in the time of coronavirus

Because the internet was still an infant at the time the ADA passed, the legislation doesn’t directly cover digital accessibility. But it needs to and now, advocates say.

“There have been lawsuits filed — in 2019 over 2,000 were filed and one of them got all the way to the Supreme Court and won,” Coelho said. “Now the issue is how do we get legislation as opposed to a court decision?”

Redesigning a website to fix accessibility issues can be a huge investment, so companies have sprung up that retrofit current designs. Fixes might include the ability to increase volume and font size, adjust contrast, caption pictures and streamline links, which disability advocates say often benefit the rest of us with fading hearing and eyesight as well.

“What people don’t realize is that an accommodation made for someone with a disability actually becomes a convenience for people without the disability,” Coelho said, pointing to an example in the physical world.

“Take curb cuts on streets in neighborhoods,” he said. “They help bicyclists cross the street as much as they assist those in wheelchairs.

If companies — and the nation — could take an inclusive attitude and realize they are not just helping those with disabilities, but everyone, the battle for equal rights for people with disabilities would be won, advocates say.

Until then, people with disabilities will continue to speak out proudly, demanding their full rights as American citizens, just as those kids did so many years ago in “Crip Camp.”

“I thank God for my epilepsy because it’s made me a stronger, better person, but a lot of us in the community feel that way,” Coelho says. “We don’t feel like we’re handicapped. We feel like we got something that makes us better and stronger, and we’re going to be out there fighting.”