Month: March 2025

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It starts small. A job application goes unanswered. A restaurant lacks a ramp. A stranger speaks to the caregiver instead of the person with a disability. These moments accumulate, shaping experiences in ways unnoticed by those who don’t live them.

Discrimination against people with disabilities isn’t always intentional. More often, it stems from systems, attitudes, and environments designed with a narrow, singular idea of ability in mind.

While laws like the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) have led to progress, gaps remain. Some are subtle, some are glaring, and all serve as reminders that accessibility isn’t a given. It is still a fight.

The Workplace Divide

Employment often provides independence, purpose, and stability. Yet, for many people with disabilities, finding a job and advancing in a career can be an uphill challenge, shaped by barriers that aren’t always visible.

Research shows that when applicants disclose a disability, they receive fewer interview invitations than those who do not (Bonaccio et al., 2020). Many hiring managers assume that accommodations will be too expensive, despite research showing that most adjustments cost little to nothing (Job Accommodation Network, n.d.).

Even after being hired, employees with disabilities may face challenges in workplaces that don’t fully accommodate their needs. For example, a skilled accountant with chronic pain might struggle without an ergonomic chair if HR considers it a “personal expense.” Similarly, a deaf software engineer may attend meetings without an interpreter, making it harder to follow important discussions.

Many employees report feeling overlooked for promotions due to assumptions about their appearance and tolerance rather than their performance (Disabled People’s Association, 2018). In other instances, office cultures unintentionally exclude them, such as through after-work events held in inaccessible venues or colleagues who talk over them in meetings (Disabled People’s Association, 2018).

Laws like the ADA prohibit employment discrimination, yet enforcement remains inconsistent. When “culture fit” is valued in hiring, unspoken biases can shape who gets opportunities and who doesn’t (Kandiah & Saiki, 2024).

The Accessibility Gap

Imagine planning a night out with friends. One restaurant lacks a ramp, another has stairs but no elevator. Finally, an accessible spot—but the menu isn’t screen-reader friendly. Many rarely think about accessibility. For people with disabilities, it is a daily reality.

Accessibility is more than just ramps and elevators—it determines who can move freely, access information, and participate. Nearly 30% of U.S. public transit systems still lack full accessibility, leaving people with disabilities stranded or reliant on limited paratransit services (Bezyak, Sabella, & Gattis, 2017).

Even in cities with accessible infrastructure, broken elevators, missing curb cuts, and unmarked crosswalks turn everyday travel into an obstacle course. These aren’t minor inconveniences; they shape who can navigate independently and who cannot.

The barriers extend beyond the physical. Websites without alt text, videos without captions, and job portals that require a mouse exclude those who rely on assistive technology.

Despite standards like the Web Content Accessibility Guidelines (WCAG), digital spaces remain largely inaccessible (WebAIM, n.d.). Infrastructure and technology should open doors, not close them. True accessibility isn’t just about compliance—it’s about full participation.

Education and Healthcare Barriers

Challenges can arise early for students with disabilities. While education has the potential to be an equalizer, differences in resources, expectations, and policies can create challenges that limit opportunities.

Although research shows that inclusive education benefits all students, only 63% of students with disabilities spend the majority of their school day in general education classrooms (American Institutes for Research, n.d.; National Center for Education Statistics, n.d.).

Teachers frequently underestimate their capabilities, assuming they can’t manage advanced coursework. Without encouragement to self-advocate, many enter higher education and the workforce unprepared.

These challenges don’t end in the classroom. In healthcare, where care and support should be the priority, people with disabilities face significant barriers. Symptoms are too often dismissed as just part of a disability rather than recognized as legitimate medical concerns (World Health Organization, n.d.; Gonzalez et al., 2023).

Physical inaccessibility only compounds the problem. Exam tables that don’t lower, mammogram machines that aren’t wheelchair-accessible, and hospitals without ASL interpreters make essential care difficult—or impossible—to receive.

Without systemic reform, these disparities will persist, reinforcing inequality in education, healthcare, and beyond.

Breaking the Cycle

Discrimination against people with disabilities can often be subtle, woven into hiring practices, city planning, healthcare policies, and unspoken assumptions. Yet, where exclusion is built into systems, so too is the opportunity for change.

Prioritizing inclusive hiring practices, designing public spaces with accessibility in mind, and fostering education systems that nurture potential are key steps in reshaping these systems. Healthcare that treats every patient with dignity also contributes to this transformation.

True inclusion isn’t about meeting minimal standards; it is about rethinking systems to make accessibility the norm, not an afterthought. Removing barriers isn’t just about disability—it’s about creating a space where everyone has the opportunity to fully engage.

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References

• merican Institutes for Research. (n.d.). Special education. MTSS for Success. Retrieved March 1, 2025, from https://mtss4success.org/special-topics/special-education
• Bezyak, J., Sabella, S., & Gattis, R. (2017). Public transportation: An investigation of barriers for people with disabilities. Journal of Disability Policy Studies, 28(3), 52–60. https://doi.org/10.1177/1044207317702070
• Bonaccio, S., Connelly, C. E., Gellatly, I. R., Jetha, A., & Martin Ginis, K. A. (2020). The participation of people with disabilities in the workplace across the employment cycle: Employer concerns and research evidence. Journal of Business and Psychology, 35(2), 135–158. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10869-018-9602-5
• Disabled People’s Association. (2018). Discrimination faced by people with disabilities at the workplace: Study 1. Disabled People’s Association. https://www.dpa.org.sg/wp-content/uploads/2018/07/Discrimination-Faced-by-People-with-Disabilities-at-the-Workplace-Study-1.pdf
• Gonzalez, D., Kenney, G. M., Karpman, M., & Morriss, S. (2023). Four in ten adults with disabilities experienced unfair treatment in health care settings, at work, or when applying for public benefits in 2022. Urban Institute. https://www.urban.org/research/publication/four-ten-adults-disabilities-experienced-unfair-treatment-health-care-settings
• Job Accommodation Network. (n.d.). Workplace accommodations: Low cost, high impact. AskJAN. Retrieved March 1, 2025, from https://askjan.org/topics/costs.cfm
• Kandiah, J., & Saiki, D. (2024). Hiring and workplace employment: Perceived aesthetic biases by individuals with physical disabilities. Journal of Postsecondary Education and Disability, 37(3), 257–272.
• National Center for Education Statistics. (2022). Inclusion and student outcomes. https://nces.ed.gov
• U.S. Equal Employment Opportunity Commission. (n.d.). Disability-related resources. EEOC. Retrieved March 1, 2025, from https://www.eeoc.gov/eeoc-disability-related-resources
• WebAIM. (n.d.). The WebAIM Million: An accessibility analysis of the top 1,000,000 home pages. WebAIM. Retrieved March 1, 2025, from https://webaim.org/projects/million/
• World Health Organization. (n.d.). Disability. World Health Organization. https://www.who.int/health-topics/disability#tab=tab_2

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The bus stop has no bench, just a cracked stretch of pavement where the curb slopes unevenly into the street. Heat shimmers off the asphalt, pressing down on the small crowd. A woman checks her watch, sighing loud enough to be heard. A teenager shifts from foot to foot, restless. No one speaks.

The bus is late. The crowd sways in quiet impatience, adjusting bags and shifting weight. A step in any direction requires calculation: how long to stand, how to stay steady when the ground works against balance.

At last, the bus hisses to a stop. The doors fold open, and the driver barely glances up before looking past to the next in line. The step is high, higher than necessary, but the driver doesn’t lower the bus. Doesn’t ask. Just waits.

“Hurry up,” someone mutters from the back.

A pause is all it takes. Eyebrows lift. A throat clears. The woman with the watch makes a sound in the back of her throat, something between impatience and disapproval.

Stepping up takes effort, more than it should. Mobility isn’t just about movement. It’s about whether the world makes space for it. A bench at the stop. A driver who notices. A bus designed with the assumption that not every body steps up the same way.

Inside, a seat opens up. Sliding into place, shoulders square, the heat of the window presses against skin. Conversations resume as if nothing happened.

“People just expect special treatment these days.”

Not loud. Just loud enough.

No one responds. No one needs to. The message lands, a quiet verdict passed in the rhythm of a public space. Disapproval without confrontation. Dismissal without words.

Mobility is tolerated as long as it doesn’t slow things down, as long as it doesn’t require adjustment, acknowledgment, or patience.

Outside, a teenager darts across the street, light and unburdened, the city bending to meet her rhythm.

The bus lurches forward. The sun burns on, unyielding. There will be another stop, another crowd, another moment when the world expects stillness, silence, disappearance.

But disappearing isn’t an option. The world isn’t designed for every body, but every body still moves through it. Still stands. Still takes up space.

The heat presses down. The sun remains. So does the person sitting by the window, shoulders squared, unshaken.

The ride continues, one stop after another, the city unfolding in patterns of movement and pause, rush and resistance. Another bus stop. Another set of passengers. Another unspoken test of who will be given room and who will have to carve it out for themselves.

How many unspoken exclusions must pile up before belonging becomes nothing more than an illusion? How many times can someone be quietly shut out before they start to believe they were never meant to belong at all?

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The bookstore smells like fresh coffee, a blend that invites pause.

I move with small, deliberate adjustments—shifting my weight, using my walking poles to navigate the floor. Every step is a negotiation. I gauge the slight unevenness beneath my feet, the tables set just a little too close together, the throw rugs that catch at my poles, the tight spaces that require careful maneuvering.

The shelves hold a mix of neatly arranged and slightly askew books, nudged out of place by browsing hands. Soft voices weave through the air, accompanied by the occasional hiss of the espresso machine. Some people move through the space without a second thought, weaving easily between shelves and tables. Others take their time, adjusting with each step, aware of the small negotiations required to move comfortably.

At the counter, the cashier finishes with a customer, the last book slipping into a paper bag with the soft rustle of paper. She looks up, her gaze lingering just a moment longer than usual.

“I can help who’s next,” she calls, her voice carrying across the space.

A pause. Small, almost imperceptible, but I feel it. The line shifts—not in movement, but in awareness. A subtle realignment. The walls haven’t moved, but the room has changed.

“It’s me,” I say, stepping forward—without hesitation. The space adjusts, and for a moment, it fits.

The Unspoken Boundary

Accessibility isn’t just about renovations or redesigns. It’s about the details that shape how easily a space can be moved through, and whether it welcomes or creates barriers.

I think of a musician I know, whose performances stay with you long after the last note fades. Yet for her, each set carries an undercurrent of frustration. The stages are too cramped, the lighting never quite right. Worst of all, there are no railings. During long sets, she has nothing to steady herself, nowhere to lean when fatigue takes hold.

Each time she steps onto a stage, she scans her surroundings. She isn’t just taking in the crowd but assessing what will keep her steady. She notes the mic stand, the edge of a monitor—anything that offers a point of stability. Most wouldn’t think twice about these details. For her, they define the space.

She could have fought for accommodations and demanded change. Instead, she made a quiet decision: no rail, no gig. Not a protest—just a choice. She didn’t need to explain why. She simply refused to perform in spaces that didn’t account for her needs.

I think of another friend who faced a similar choice. He spent too many flights squeezed into tight seats, navigating narrow aisles, feeling like an afterthought in a system that never accounted for him. One day, he stopped accepting discomfort as the price of travel. He took control. A simple, direct message to the airline: this is what works for me. He wasn’t asking for permission to belong in the space. He was claiming it.

Both stories share a common thread: the refusal to disappear. No dramatic confrontations. No raised voices. Just an unspoken assertion of presence—a quiet but firm boundary.

The Empty Spaces

The power of these moments is in their subtleties. A glance. A shift in posture. A pause before stepping forward—small movements that change the shape of a room.

A space may feel full until you notice the gaps: the musician who doesn’t take the gig, the traveler who avoids the flight, the person who hesitates at the door. Once seen, those absences can’t be ignored.

The bookstore, for example, hasn’t changed. The shelves still lean with age, the aisles remain narrow, the scent of coffee lingers. Yet something is different. There’s a moment of tension, the kind that isn’t spoken but is felt. A brief stillness, like a song poised for its next note. Then, with a small shift, and it is gone. The space eases. The cashier looks up, our eyes meet. No hesitation. No glance away. She sees me.

A small moment, but it matters. Recognition, even unspoken, changes the room.

Redefining the Environment

Small adjustments—whether in a bookstore, on a stage, or in a crowded airport—reshape our surroundings. By stepping forward, setting boundaries, and holding firm, we change the spaces around us.

The world doesn’t always make room, but that does not mean space can’t be claimed. The gaps—the unfilled spaces—are reminders that even the smallest act has the power to create change.

Shifting with Purpose

There is power in the unspoken. The world may not always anticipate the needs of those who move through it, but that doesn’t mean those needs should be invisible.

Not every shift requires confrontation. Sometimes, it’s a quiet insistence—a steady presence that refuses to be overlooked. It is a small but certain claim to space, a quiet assertion that cannot be ignored. Because once space is claimed, once presence is acknowledged, the balance shifts, and the world begins to make room.