"We have an
awful lot to celebrate," says Matt Abrahamson, executive director
of the Coalition of Citizens with Disabilities in Illinois.
Today, about
54 million people -- one in five Americans -- have a disability.
That outnumbers the country's largest racial minority group: 35
million blacks.
Twenty-two
million disabled people are voters, says Max Starkloff, founder
of Paraquad, a St. Louis-based independent living center. "That
size group could easily elect the next president."
Yet, disability-rights
advocates say there's a long way to go.
Over the next
three days, the Post-Dispatch will examine the disability act's
impact: the progress and the problems. We'll look at how St. Louis
stacks up to other cities in accessibility. We'll introduce the
DisAbility Project and its actors, a unique, local theater ensemble
whose performers raise the curtain on disability issues through
their performances and their daily lives.
Among our findings:
- A
Post-Dispatch audit of local businesses shows that at least eight
of 10 restaurants audited discriminate against people with disabilities
in some way.
- A person
with a severe disability is four times more likely to be unemployed
than a typical working-age person.
- Technological
advances have made many people with disabilities more independent.
But they created new barriers for the blind and visually impaired.
- Bi-State
Development Agency, which operates the regional transportation
system here, every day carries thousands of people with disabilities
to jobs, to buy groceries and to doctor's appointments. But critics
also say that Bi-State's services for disabled passengers are
unreliable. Disabled riders complain of broken lifts and of some
drivers who fail to call out stops -- as mandated by law.
- The high
demand and low funding are squeezing the nation's paratransit
systems -- or transportation set up for people with disabilities
who aren't able to use fixed route systems such as buses and light
rail. Bi-State, for example, denies thousands of ride requests
monthly, officials say, because it does not have enough buses
and drivers to meet the demand.
Says Starkloff:
"The biggest thing the ADA has done is that it has made society
aware of the real problems out there for the disabled citizens.
The problem is that our society has not been prepared for a minority
group that has been institutionalized and discriminated against
for so long."
Only the
beginning
The disability
act outlaws discrimination on the basis of disability in employment,
state and local government, public accommodations, commercial facilities,
transportation and telecommunications.
What that translates
into is the right of the disabled individual to use a government
service, such as voting in a polling place, filing a court document
or applying for a drivers license without barriers. People with
disabilities also are entitled to enter a restaurant, order dinner
and use the restroom without barriers. They have the right to ride
a public bus without barriers.
The law did
not create special privileges for people with disabilities. It gave
them the right to have access to the same services as those with
disabilities.
Jim Tuscher,
vice president for public policy for Paraquad, was on the White
House lawn the day former President George Bush signed the bill.
"It was a proud
day," Tuscher says, noting how long and hard disabilities rights
advocates pushed for its passage.
But their excitement
was tempered.
"In our hearts,
we knew that the real work would have to begin," he says. "We're
still fighting the battle, though we're fighting from a different
place. Now, we have standing under the law. Before, we had nothing
to fight with.
"Is it perfect?
No. Is it better? Way, way better."
Blind people
with guide dogs are still turned away from restaurants, says John
Wodatch, chief of disability rights for the U.S. Department of Justice.
Although the U.S. Department of Transportation says 80 percent of
the nation's buses are accessible, paratransit is still unreliable
and that doesn't add up to equal opportunity, Wodatch says.
"People are
beginning to understand better that this is a civil rights issue,"
he says.
Law is complaint-driven
In her report
on the ADA's 10th anniversary, Attorney General Janet Reno cited
progress in the past decade because of the act. Among the advances
were:
- United
Artists Theatre Circuit Inc. agreed to make parking, entrances,
restrooms and seating accessible at more than 400 theaters.
- Illinois
dropped discriminatory provisions in its police and fire pension
code that had excluded disabled officers and firefighters.
- The National
Collegiate Athletic Association agreed to modify policies that
excluded students with learning disabilities from competing.
- City Utilities
of Springfield, Mo., agreed to make its building and services
more accommodating.
All of these
changes resulted from complaints to the Department of Justice, underscoring
one of the criticisms of the law.
"It's like
trying to kill mosquitoes with an elephant gun," says Bob Kafka,
a national organizer in Texas for ADAPT, a disability rights group
with roots that date back to Denver in the 1970s.
The law is
largely reactive. It is driven by complaints and lawsuits rather
than aggressive enforcement through regular inspection. St. Louis
city health inspectors, for instance, perform regular checks of
restaurants for compliance with health codes. But city building
inspectors are required to check commercial properties for accessibility
only if the buildings are undergoing a change of use, substantial
rehabilitation or new construction.
Of 13,000 complaints
filed since 1990, the Department of Justice filed 202 lawsuits,
settled more than 500 cases and sent thousands through the department's
mediation program.
Filing a complaint
might take an instruction manual.
The Equal Employment
Opportunity Commission handles complaints relating to Title I of
ADA: employment. But if it's a complaint about buses, it would be
filed with the Federal Transit Administration within the U.S. Department
of Transportation. And if it's a complaint about inaccessible commercial
buildings, it would be filed with the U.S. Department of Justice.
People can
also file complaints on the state and local levels. ADA coordinators
in St. Louis and St. Louis County say they receive telephone calls
from outside their respective jurisdictions, from throughout the
area and states beyond. The National Council on Disability, citing
disjointed federal enforcement of the ADA in a recent report, recommends
more collaboration between agencies with the Department of Justice
taking the lead.
"Ten years
after the fact, there's still a lot of confusion about who to contact,"
says Deborah Dee, commissioner for the St. Louis Office on Disability.
In addition
to the complexity of the complaint process, the regulations themselves
are intricate. Pages and pages of guidelines include diagrams and
measurements for everything from making a bathroom accessible to
setting the height of elevator buttons above the floor.
Yet, while
the ADA is quite specific on building design, its definition of
what impairments are covered is vague. Disability is defined, not
by diagnoses, but by how one performs daily living tasks. The vast
spectrum of disabilities, each band with its own needs, sometimes
is divided.
Because of
that, the disabled community doesn't speak with one voice, and that
holds it back, Dee says. And sometimes disabled people won't speak
at all.
"I don't think
we make enough noise to show we have an impact," Paraquad's Starkloff
says.
Progress
means choices
Nursing homes
and other institutions used to be the only option for disabled people,
who were considered incapable of deciding what was best for themselves.
"I was in a
nursing home for 12 years," says Starkloff, who uses a wheelchair
because of a car accident. "If I moved, I lost financial support.
So, I spent five years there until I was able to raise enough money
to go into the community. I lived in a nursing home because I needed
help getting out of bed. I wasn't there for health care reasons."
Today, he hires
a personal care attendant.
The ADA bolstered
the independent living movement. That movement seeks to empower
people with disabilities to move out of institutions and into the
house next door.
Last year,
the U.S. Supreme Court ruled on the issue in a case known as the
Olmstead Decision. The court said that unjustified institutionalization
of a person with a disability who can live in the community is discrimination.
Missouri is among the first states to apply Olmstead language to
the state budget, allowing Medicaid money to follow a person into
the community.
Medicaid guidelines
were relaxed, making it possible for people with disabilities to
work and earn income without fear of losing their benefits.
Still, the
nursing home lobby has proved to be a considerable foe to the independent
living movement, says Mike Auberger, a Denver-based disability rights
advocate with ADAPT.
Nursing homes
have a lot at stake. Nationwide, long-term care institutions received
$25.9 billion in Medicaid funding last year, compared with $622
million in Medicaid funds for home- and community-based services.
Since January
1999, the nursing home industry has given more than $2 million in
campaign funding to federal candidates.
But the nursing
home industry doesn't foresee Olmstead having a big impact.
"There's an
expectation that there are a large number of people in care settings
that don't belong there," says Earl Carlson, executive director
of the Missouri Health Care Association. "I'm sure there are people
in nursing homes that could be cared for at home. But it's so small
that it's not going to have a very big impact."
In any case,
disability rights activists say communities aren't ready to receive
people with disabilities.
The services
aren't there to support them and accessible, affordable housing
is in short supply, they say. Among the cities considered most progressive
by rights advocates are Berkeley, Calif., Denver and Los Angeles
because of their community-based services.
"A city's success
is the transit system," Auberger says. "You make the transit system
accessible and you can get higher education, jobs, recreation. You
can do all of that."
But you can't
pass a law and change society, says David Newburger, a civil rights
attorney in St. Louis. The big political movements of this generation
-- civil rights, women's rights and Vietnam war protests -- were
characterized by mass marches and charismatic leaders. But they
also ignited great social change, raising the issue of racial and
sexual discrimination to a broad, public consciousness, he says.
"We haven't
had that kind of movement with people with disabilities," Newburger
says. "And education is a lot slower than marches."
********
THE SERIES
Each day, look
for more on the DisAbility Project and these reports:
SUNDAY
Accessibility:
Ramps to restaurants, curb cuts in sidewalks and bus lifts have
opened up many avenues for people with disabilities. But how far
has the St. Louis region come?
MONDAY
Employment:
Unemployment is higher for people with disabilities but technology
is helping them become independent.
TUESDAY
Transportation:
The St. Louis area public transportation system that carries many
people with disabilities to work and recreation also turns away
thousands of requests for rides each month.
A Special report
E-mail: jlafleur@post-dispatch.com
Phone: 314-340-8296
E-mail: lkee@post-dispatch.com
Phone: 314-340-8255