Last year Easterseals published a guest post I wrote called How One Student Who is Blind Planned the Perfect Date. Our perfect date didn’t work out that time, unfortunately.

Alicia and Joe.

Joe and I had tried to plan a trip to Andy’s Jazz Club in Chicago last year for our second anniversary, but when it didn’t work out, we tried again for this year. We have been planning this since December, so needless to say, I’d been looking forward to this for a very long time.

The day finally arrived. I was up early and scheduled our ride from campus to the Elburn train station, and I called Flash Cab Chicago to schedule two rides with them — from the train station to Andy’s, and from Andy’s back to the train station later that night. I informed them that we are both blind, so the driver would have to come get us. The dispatcher added this to her notes, and I could tell from her tone that this was nothing new to them.

The trip from Northern Illinois University to Elburn was nothing new to me. We got to the station just as the train was arriving; I could hear the loud train bells. The driver led us to the platform and onto the train, directed us to our seat, and told us to have a good day as she descended the stairs off the train. And as typical with traveling with Joe, the excited chatter started.

The hour-and-twenty minute train ride didn’t feel quite that long. We pulled in right on schedule, and my excitement quickly turned to nervousness. Here was something unfamiliar to me that I was not exactly confident about: getting off the train and out of the station. I was glad I’d scheduled our pick-up time with Flash Cab for 30 minutes after our train was due in Chicago. I overestimated the time it might take on purpose, just in case the train was late. Or in case it took us a while to get out of the station…or in case I needed to make a stop. Which I did.

I wasn’t sure who to ask. What if someone led us to the restroom and left and we couldn’t find someone to lead us back? I started voicing my worries out loud and, as per usual, Joe calmly said his favorite thing to say when traveling: “We’ll figure it out,” with a reassuring hold onto my hand.

The conductor guided us off the train and asked what we needed. “Well, our cab isn’t coming for a while, so I was wondering if you had an employee that could direct us to a restroom,” I said. I didn’t want to assume he would do it when he likely had other things to attend to, but he said he’d grab his bag and take us.

During the long walk to the restrooms, our conversation was all about what we were doing in the city today, how often we travel on the train, and how impressed he was by our confidence with this being our first trip to the city by ourselves. Once he’d led us to the restrooms, he told us he had another train to get to and informed us that a security guard would be there to lead us the rest of the way. He introduced himself and shook both our hands and departed.

As promised, the security guard was there when I exited. He led us to the exit on Madison Street, where I then received a text that our cab was on its way. There was more excited chatter (I said something like, “Can you believe it? We’re in Chicago!” like I’d never been to the city before in my life and was an out-of-state tourist.)

I received another text saying the cab arrived, but decided to stay put. I always let drivers come to me; I never try and find them. The driver addressed me by name, so I knew it was the right person.

The ride to the jazz club was short, and we arrived just as the dining area opened. Someone was there to greet us, and I gave them my last name for the reservation I had made two weeks ago. He led us to our table, and I immediately took note of the instruments I could hear to our right…very closely to our right. We were sitting right by the band!

Our server came by and asked if we needed help with the menus. Joe and I had done some research prior to this trip and looked up the menu online, but we quickly found out it had been updated since then. We narrowed down our options to pasta, and the server was happy to help.

He read everything and described it to us. He politely asked me to confirm where I got the menu online so they could update it, and I told him. We got our food right as the band began to play, so there wasn’t much conversation. It was too loud, and I was too busy enjoying the music anyway.

We spent two hours in the dining area (including eating dessert, of course), before we asked our server to lead us to the bar, where we quickly struck up conversation with a lady sitting next to me. She was visiting Andy’s Jazz Club for the first time, too.

The bar area was a little better. It was quieter so we could actually talk without having to shout. As soon as I got the text that our cab was on the way, we stood up and someone came over to help us. (People were watching out for us all evening.) They led us out the door just as the cab pulled up.

The cab driver led us into the station and found a security guard, who proceeded to use his radio to request assistance. Someone came and led us to the ticket agent, and once we had our tickets, the employee who led us to the agent then led us on the train.

Unlike the train ride to Chicago, the train ride back from Chicago was quiet. We were both exhausted, so we dozed off, but in-between sleep sessions we had a little bit of conversation. I couldn’t have asked for a better person to travel with and share the last three years of my life with. We talked about doing this as a yearly tradition — that’s how much fun we had.

Our train pulled up right on time, and my cousin met us at the platform to drive us back to campus. I can’t describe the feeling of accomplishment I felt at the end of it. I stepped out of my comfort zone and tried something new, and I knew I’d go back and do it again.

More posts by Ali:

• 9 Tips for Keeping the Romance Alive in a Relationship
• 7 Advantages of Being Blind
• “Dating someone who is blind is honestly not as hard as it sounds”

With all the hubbub the past couple weeks about our Illinois Senator Tammy Duckworth (pictured right) casting a vote on the Senate floor with her newborn baby in her arms, very little attention was given to the fact that Senator Duckworth is a mother who has a disability.

And I kind of like that.

Senator Duckworth’s disability is not invisible – she’s a double-amputee veteran who uses a wheelchair. My disability isn’t invisible, either. I am blind, and when I was pregnant with our son Gus in 1986 I received as many awkward comments from others as I did congratulatory wishes. My husband is sighted, but when I was out without him during my pregnancy, complete strangers would ask, “The father can see, right?” Other times we were asked questions like “Blind people are allowed to have babies?” “The baby will be blind, too?” “Are you going to keep it?” “The hospital will send someone home with you guys to help once it’s born, won’t they?”

We’ve come a long way in 31 years. I kept waiting for something to come out in the news about Senator Duckworth being a disabled mom, but never heard it mentioned. I heard plenty of ageism (Senator Duckworth is 50 years old) and plenty of sexism (she’s the first Senator to give birth to a baby while in office).

The only reference to ableism I found was in an Associated Press story reporting that some senators were privately reluctant to allow Senator Duckworth to have her infant daughter with her on the Senate floor: They suggested she vote from the cloakroom instead. From the story:

Senator Amy Klobuchar’s answer to that suggestion noted that Duckworth lost both legs and partial use of an arm in Iraq, and mostly gets around by wheelchair. “Yes, you can vote from the doorway of the cloakroom, but how is she going to get to the cloakroom when it’s not wheelchair accessible?” she asked.

Senators are not allowed to phone in their votes. New fathers in the Senate who have brought their children along to work have voted from the cloakroom doorway in the past, but they won’t have to do that anymore: The rule change Senator Duckworth proposed applied to fathers, too. Discussion on the rule change split her colleagues more along generational lines than partisan ones, and now fathers and mothers are allowed to bring their infants on to the Senate floor with them.

A lot has been said about how Senator Duckworth’s historic moment may change the way employers across the country look at accommodating new parents in the workplace. My hope is that it also marks a time when Americans are looking at people with disabilities as good employees, and good parents, too.

Thank you, Tammy Duckworth. Happy Mother’s Day!

Flo and her daughters in the Hancock building for her 95th birthday

Knowing that every parent wants their children to grow up healthy and happy, it dawns on me now that it must have been hard on my mother (I called her by her first name, Flo) to take it all in when I lost my sight. I was 26 years old then. She was 69, and she never let on that she was sad about my new disability or that she worried for me. She encouraged me instead, told me how proud she was of me and how sure she was I’d continue living an interesting –and pleasurable –life.

Our father had a fatal heart attack at home when I was three. Flo raised us on her own. Sometimes when she happen to drive by the funeral home I’d call out, “That’s where Daddy lives!” She never corrected me.

Flo and husband Eddie (Beth’s dad) before he died

Our dad had switched jobs shortly before his death and had no life insurance. Flo got Social Security, but it wasn’t much. She found a job, and it was during her first summer working that I was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes. I was hospitalized for two weeks, and Flo couldn’t miss work, but every morning and evening she’d stop to see me on her commute. At night she’d leave the hospital early enough to have dinner at home with my sisters Beverly and Marilee. Our older brothers and sisters were all married or out working, so Flo, Marilee, Bev, and I took care of the house, mowed, cleaned out the gutters, did makeshift repairs. The older kids contributed money from their paychecks, Marilee cooked for us, and on Thursday nights — before Flo’s weekly payday — we often ate what was left in the refrigerator, usually toast and eggs. But dinner was always ready when Flo got home, we never went hungry, and we lived what we considered happy, normal lives.

Beth and her older sisters celebrating Flo’s 93rd birthday with her. From the top (of the stairs) that’s Bobbie, Bev, Cheryl, Marilee, Beth, and of course Flo.

Flo never complained about things being hard or unfair. She did complain when we didn’t do our chores or if we fought over dishwashing duty or messed up what she’d just finished cleaning. But she never told us we were a burden or that we’d worn her out, though plenty of evenings she just went to her room and lay down. When we went in to ask if anything was wrong, she’d say, “No, I’m just resting my eyes.”

Years later, after losing my sight, I was visiting our son’s classroom and another young mother struck up a conversation with me. Eventually we got around to what my family had been like when I was growing up. “Oh, so that’s where you get it,” she said after I described Flo.

“Get what?”

“Your courage,” she answered.

I was flattered but had to chuckle. Flo would have been embarrassed. She didn’t believe she was being courageous. She saw her life in simple terms: she did what she had to do. And I realized that I look at my own life that way.

Flo when she was in assisted living in her 90s.

Flo could have never known I would someday lose my sight, but her work ethic, her determination not to complain, her perseverance and her appreciation for those around her served as the perfect role model for her children, especially for the daughter who is writing this blog post.

No one can predict what will happen to their children, but giving them a first-hand look at hard work, determination and love can sure help brace them for whatever comes their way later. Flo died a few years ago, but her spirit lives on. I write this Mother’s Day post in her honor. I was lucky to have her.

More posts about motherhood:

• Does Mother’s Day make you sad? You’re not the only one
• One mother’s relationship with her son who has disabilities
• Philosophy, Love, and Autism: Conversations Between a Mom and Her Son
• How Has Being a Blind Mom Changed Over the Years?

I am completely blind. I can’t see emojis. The speech synthesizers on my laptop and phone describe them to me when they appear on screen, though. Want an example? Here’s a sampling of what I hear when choosing from the list of “Smileys and Other People” emojis:

• “Winking face with stuck-out tongue”
• “Smirking face”
• “Face with rolling eyes”
• “Flushed face”
• “Thinking face”

The emojis proposed by Apple

While researching this post I learned that members of the LGBTQ+ community have images representing them in emoji form — images of same sex families, two men holding hands, two women doing the same, rainbow flags. Cool! A couple of years ago I started noticing the speech synthesizer on my iPhone was calling out the skin tones of emojis, too. I follow Chance the Rapper on Twitter, and I smile any time he posts a tweet followed with something like “hands with medium skin tone pressed together.”

This increased representation is paramount to inclusion. But there is still work to do.

My research taught me there are 2,666 little images, symbols, or icons available to use in electronic communication, but guess how many represent people with disabilities?

One.

You read that right. More than 1 billion people worldwide have some form of disability, and one symbol – the image of a wheelchair – is meant to represent all of us.

Eyebrows up! That may change soon. The Unicode Consortium is discussing 13 new emojis to represent people with disabilities. In its submission to the Unicode Consortium, Apple wrote:

“Apple is requesting the addition of emoji to better represent individuals with disabilities. Currently, emoji provide a wide range of options, but may not represent the experiences of those with disabilities.”

I’ll say!

I’ve been using Twitter a lot more lately. Just last night I left a tweet to a local radio station that was interviewing author Robert Kurson, who has just come out with a book about space travel. My tweet mentioned that Kurson is also the author of “Crashing Through,” a book about a man who was blind and had some of his sight restored after experimental — and quite painful — medical treatments. I used so many characters to explain Crashing Through that I didn’t get a chance to mention that I, too, am blind. Imagine how many characters I’d save if I could just use the guide dog emoji. Or the one of a person walking with a white cane.

Thirteen new emojis have been suggested, everything from a man and a woman making the sign for “Deaf” to that one I mentioned above, the guide dog wearing a harness. Others depict people using canes, wheelchairs, and prosthetic limbs.

If these emojis are approved, they’ll be put on a shortlist of candidates for Emoji 12.0, due to be released in 2019. I say bring ‘em on. Maybe some day I’ll start ending my tweets with “happy person led by smiling guide dog in harness.”

Before I had an iPhone, I had a Samsung Jack. It’s been six years since I had that old phone, but I can vaguely remember the layout — it looked like a Blackberry. The speech software for the Samsung Jack was called Mobile Speak, and it didn’t come with the device. We had to download it separately.

That Samsung Jack got old fast. Mobile Speak froze up a lot, my mom had to constantly re-download it for me, and she finally insisted I get an iPhone.

I didn’t want one. I wasn’t at all happy to hold that first iPhone 4s in my hand. The touch screen was too difficult to maneuver. I had no idea what I was doing.

But, as it goes with almost everything my parents recommend, they were right. The idea –and the feel of the phone — grew on me. Six years later, I can’t imagine life without an iPhone.

A few friends with visual impairments like Android, and they’ve recommended an it to me. I’ve seen how the speech software works on Android, though, and in my opinion, it isn’t as good. I just love Apple now.

After having the iPhone 4s for two years, I upgraded to the 6, and I got 3.5 years out of that one. With Voiceover (the built-in speech software that comes with Apple products), I am able to turn the “screen curtain on.” That is, I can darken the screen completely. To put that into perspective, nothing shows up visually on the screen. It basically looks like the phone is black and I’m playing with a phone that is dead.

And yes, I do sometimes get comments from people around me like, “Umm, I think your phone is dead…there’s nothing on the screen.”

But think about it. The only time I have the visuals show up on the screen is when I need sighted help, and I don’t need sighted help with my iPhone very often. That means the screen is almost always, always dark. And because I don’t use the camera or apps like Snapchat or Instagram, my battery doesn’t drain as quickly and I can get a lot more battery out of my phone.

After 3.5 years with my iPhone 6, though, my phone started to slow down. The battery would start to rapidly drop. Apps would take forever to load. This posed a problem. I have always been someone who’s out and about, especially during the school year. I use my phone A LOT…for everything. Some examples:

• I use it for things like social media and email.
• I have a GPS app that I activate when I can’t hear the stops on the train.
• If I’m going somewhere I’ve never been before, I use Google Maps to look up the mileage to calculate the cab fair.
• I also use Google Maps to make sure I’m going where I want to go when I’m in a cab.

I’m going on a cruise with my family this summer, and I’ll have my phone off for a week. When I still had that iPhone 6, it being so old, I was afraid it would never turn back on again. So, after the semester ended, I went out to the Apple store to upgrade from the iPhone 6 to the iPhone 8. I’ve had it only for a short time, but I already notice a major difference.

First and most important: better battery. As I am writing this blog post, I’ve had it unplugged for almost three hours, and the battery charge is only down to 96 percent. My old iPhone 6 would’ve probably been somewhere in the 60 percent battery range by now. Dictating texts would drain a lot of the iPhone 6 battery, and typing made it even worse. It was a struggle. But now, yes, even when I wake up early in the morning, my new iPhone 8 is still charged. That’s very important: I use my phone to text my friends who like early mornings, too.

My iPhone 6 sounded good, but it wasn’t until I got the 8 and heard Voiceover that I realized how loud I had to have my iPhone 6 turned up to hear it. The speaker on the iPhone 8 seems to have better quality. I can keep my phone at a lower volume and hear it just fine. Another thing I like in the iPhone 8 is the touch ID fingerprint option. It’s a lot faster, which allows me to read texts faster. Very handy when my friend is texting me “I’m here” when they’ve pulled into my driveway.

My old phone took a while to load anything. Or, I’d tap on messages and it would open my music, so I’d have to try again, further delaying reading text messages from friends. My apps load faster, which is good if I need to pull up a GPS.

When I was at the store to buy my new phone, the Apple employee told us that Voiceover was quicker now. I wasn’t entirely sure what he meant by that, but now I know. As someone who goes out a lot, I’m happy I don’t have to constantly check my battery to make sure it’ll last. I never realized before how much I truly need a working phone, but I do now: I finally have one that’s functional again!

I love writing blog posts about things that make common sense. This is one of those posts.

Photo credit: Mike Knezovich

Last week Apple commemorated Global Accessibility Awareness Day (a day emphasizing the importance of accessible tech and design) by announcing a new partnership with Hadley Institute for the Blind and Visually Impaired to bring its Everyone Can Code curriculum to more people with visual impairments.

Apple products have long been a favorite of people who have disabilities, and that’s because accessibility features we use come automatically with each Apple product, which means we don’t have to pay for extra software to make Apple products work for us.

One of the many, many reasons I decided to buy an iPhone back in 2011 was to support the idea of universal design: the iPhone 3GS was the first touch-screen device that blind people like me could take out of the box and use right away. Apple products come with speech software called VoiceOver (built-in screen access for people who are blind) that miraculously allows us to interact using the touch-screen.

Photo credit: Mike Knezovich

I need a refresher course every now and then, though, so when I heard that Douglas Walker, Hadley’s director of assistive technology, was in Chicago last Tuesday to give a free VoiceOver course at the Chicago Apple store, I signed up. In retrospect, I should have known there was some big announcement on the horizon!

Hadley has been offering correspondence classes to teach Braille to students for nearly 100 years, but lately the free videos Hadley offers about using accessibility features built into Apple devices have become far more popular than the Braille classes the school offers. Walker, the man who taught the VoiceOver course I attended Tuesday, narrates the VoiceOver videos by talking through the gestures. “Don’t worry that it’s a YouTube video,” he laughed during class Tuesday. “Really, all you have to do is listen.”

The series of new videos Walker will narrate for the Everyone Can Code partnership will follow a pattern similar to Hadley’s other instructional videos, starting by using games to teach people how to code. The videos will be available free of charge, and kids and adults who want to teach themselves to code can use the videos at home in addition to teachers who use the videos in classrooms.

“Often, people suffer vision loss as adults and have to start over,” Colleen Wunderlich, director of the Forsythe Center for Employment and Entrepreneurship at Hadly pointed out in a Chicago Tribune article last week. “People sometimes leave the workforce to adjust to their new reality. With the proper training, people who are blind or visually impaired could pursue a career in coding.”

Let’s face it. The ability to code is a great skill to have on a resume. As Douglas Walker said in that same Chicago Tribune story last week, “Coding is definitely the future for everyone, even when you’re in your 50s.”

Gee whiz. That means even I can give it a try.

Just got back from a trip to Washington, DC. While walking around with friends there, I couldn’t help but notice how nice the streets and sidewalks in DC and nearby Alexandria are — guess I’ve become too accustomed to the cracks and potholes and construction cut-outs here in Chicago!

Turns out I’m not the only one to notice such things — a new list of the top ten American cities for accessibility ranks Washington DC #1. Redfin.com offers a custom search filter on its site that allows users to locate accessible homes for sale in their communities, and by combining results from the search filter with additional city data, they put together this list of what they regard as America’s top 10 most accessible cities.

10. Baltimore, Maryland
Number of Accessible Listings in 2017: 17,067
Median Home Sale Price: $171,000
Percentage of People Living with a Disability: 11.9%

Easily accessible transit options, including a subway service and buses, are available in many Baltimore locations to connect residents to the airport, Johns Hopkins Hospital and Washington, D.C. The city’s Inner Harbor area, where you’ll find restaurants and other attractions, is exceptionally well designed when it comes to accessibility.

9. San Antonio, Texas
Number of Accessible Listings in 2017: 5,267
Median Home Sale Price: $231,990
Percentage of People Living with a Disability: 10.4%

With wide sidewalks and many ADA-compliant attractions, such as San Antonio’s River Walk, the Alamo and several historical attractions, San Antonio is Texas’s most accessible city. The city’s bus service, VIA, offers discounted fares and priority seating for people with disabilities, making public transit easy to navigate and use. The San Antonio Museum of Art, Botanical Garden and Missions National Historic Park are only a handful of accessible attractions in the city; there are several disability-friendly parks and recreation areas in and around town, as well.

8. Atlanta, Georgia
Accessible Homes Listings in 2017: 3,855
Median Home Sale Price: $266,000
Percentage of People Living with a Disability: 8.6%

Atlanta, known for its grand old manor homes and several ADA-compliant attractions, such as the Georgia Aquarium, the Atlanta Zoo and the College Football Hall of Fame, is one of the most accessible cities in the nation. The city’s major transportation system, MARTA, is easily accessible.

7. Vancouver, Washington
Number of Accessible Listings in 2017: 3,024
Median Home Sale Price: $300,000
Percentage of People Living with a Disability: 10.5%

Vancouver is home to more than 450 acres of parks, trails and open space, most of which is ADA-compliant (the only exception is space that’s designed to preserve natural terrain). Many accessible hikes and outdoor attractions are available, including sightseeing at Captain William Clark Park Trail and the Columbia River Waterfront Renaissance Trail.

6. San Jose, California
Number of Accessible Listings in 2017: 659
Median Home Sale Price: $780,000
Percentage of People Living with a Disability: 5.0%

Seasonably warm and surrounded by the Diablo and Santa Cruz Mountains in the heart of the Santa Clara Valley, San Jose is one of the most accessible cities on the West Coast. Featuring a booming high-tech industry and serving as a cultural hub for central California, it’s home to several notable ADA-compliant attractions, such as the Sunol Regional Wilderness and the beautiful Cathedral Basilica of St. Joseph. The Municipal Rose Garden, Happy Hollow Park and Zoo and several local businesses all over the city are also disability-friendly.

5. Tucson, Arizona
Number of Accessible Listings in 2017: 7,699
Median Home Sale Price: $210,000
Percentage of People Living with a Disability: 10.9%

Tucson, home to the University of Arizona, is a flat-terrain city and sits between several mountain ranges. It has an accessible bus service: Sun Tran. Tucson attracts visitors to several ADA-friendly attractions, including the famed Mt. Lemmon, the Pima Air and Space Museum and the Tucson Museum of Art.

4. Portland, Oregon
Number of Accessible Listings in 2017: 5,500
Median Home Sale Price: $370,000
Percentage of People Living with a Disability: 9.7%

As one of the most ADA-compliant cities on the West Coast, Portland is home to Pioneer Square, the Harborwalk and so much more – and most locations are easy to navigate. TriMet service runs through Portland and its suburbs while offering reduced fares for seniors and those with disabilities under its Honored Citizen program. Beautiful public parks and green spaces dot the city, and each is accessible and easy to navigate.

3. Tampa, Florida
Number of Accessible Listings in 2017: 876
Median Home Sale Price: $265,000
Percentage of People Living with a Disability: 8.9%

The shores of Tampa Bay are known for pristine beauty, and the city itself is steeped in history; those factors, plus its warm, tropical climate make it a desirable location. However, Tampa is also known for its disability-friendly atmosphere, with wide sidewalks over flat terrain, accessible public parks and attractions, and the Sunshine Line – door-to-door transportation and bus passes for the elderly and people with disabilities. The Florida Aquarium, ZooTampa at Lowry Park and Busch Gardens are all ADA-compliant, and those are only a few of the notable (and accessible) attractions in the city.

2. Salt Lake City, Utah
Number of Accessible Listings in 2017: 1,261
Median Home Sale Price: $265,500
Percentage of People Living with a Disability: 7.5%

Salt Lake City, famed for its high quality of life (thanks in part to the convenient and historic downtown area and breathtaking views of the Wasatch and Oquirrh Mountains), is close to Great Salt Lake and home to nationally renowned, ADA-compliant recreational areas and charming city parks. Ranking just behind the D.C. metro area on accessible, quality healthcare, The Crossroads of the West is also well-outfitted with curb ramps and offers free parking at city meters for people with disabilities who have a windshield placard or specialized license plate. Salt Lake City is also home to several accessible attractions, including the Salt Lake Temple, Hogle Zoo and Antelope Island State Park, where you can see free-roaming bison grazing in the valleys.

1. Metro D.C. (Alexandria, the District of Columbia, and Arlington)
Number of Accessible Listings in 2017: 10,634
Median Home Sale Price: $580,000
Percentage of People Living with a Disability: 6.7%

Metro D.C., which includes the nearby cities of Alexandria and Arlington, is the most accessible metropolitan area in the nation. The Washington, D.C. subway system also runs through Alexandria and Arlington, and each city has its own bus system; the city of Alexandria is home to GO Alex, a public transit service specifically designed for people with mobility issues. The metro area is packed with community recreational programs designed for people with disabilities, and all federal buildings are ADA-accessible. With wide sidewalks that are easy to navigate, ample access to high-quality healthcare and a number of ADA-compliant attractions, parks and businesses, this metro area has earned the #1 spot on this list.

Information on the methodology used to assemble this list is available at redfin.com.

A small dog yipped and lunged at my Seeing Eye dog Whitney as we checked in for a flight at Chicago’s Midway Airport last month. No one got hurt, but it was alarming.

I know to ready myself for distractions from other dogs when I’m outside with Whitney, I just forget that I have to be prepared for dog distractions inside airports now, too. When we got to the gate, that same small dog barked and lunged at Whitney again. Just our luck: the yippy dog and its owner were going to be on our flight. My husband Mike was with us, and when he told me that the dog who’d lunged at Whitney was wearing a vest that said “Service dog in training,” I asked the owner the two questions federal law allows businesses to ask people claiming their dogs are service dogs: “Is that a Service Dog?” and “What tasks or work does your dog perform for you?” The owner answered “yes” to the first question, then told me the dog keeps her calm and prevents her from getting panic attacks. Another woman at the gate had a smallish dog on a leash — that dog also had a vest on that said “service dog” –and when Southwest announced that people with disabilities could pre-board, both woman rushed to the front of the line to grab the bulkhead seats.

I sat in the 8th row window seat. Whitney, a 60 pound Yellow Lab/Golden Retriever cross, sat with her bottom under the seat in front of us, her head on my feet, and didn’t make a peep during the flight. When I stood up with her after we landed, the couple who’d been sitting in the row in front of us complimented Whitney’s good behavior. “We didn’t even know there was a dog behind us!” they marveled.

“She’s a service dog,” Mike responded with a shrug. “She was trained to behave in public.” I waited for the two dogs in the bulkhead seats to leave before giving Whitney the “Forward!” command. And then? My Seeing Eye dog calmly led me off the plane.

In light of the challenges people working with service animals are facing during air travel, the U.S. Department of Transportation (DOT) is making plans to amend and clarify its regulations implementing the Air Carrier Access Act. DOT has issued an Advanced Notice of Proposed Rule Making (ANPRM) and is seeking comments from the public on these specific issues:

1. Whether psychiatric service animals should be treated similarly to other service animals.
2. Whether there should be a distinction between emotional support animals and other service animals.
3. Whether emotional support animals should be required to travel in pet carriers for the duration of the flight.
4. Whether the species of service animals and emotional support animals that airlines are required to transport should be limited.
5. Whether the number of service animals/emotional support animals should be limited per passenger.
6. Whether an attestation should be required from all service animal and emotional support animal users that their animal has been trained to behave in a public setting.
7. Whether service animals and emotional support animals should be harnessed, leashed, or otherwise tethered.
8. Whether there are safety concerns with transporting large service animals and if so, how to address them.
9. Whether airlines should be prohibited from requiring a veterinary health form or immunization record from service animal users without an individualized assessment that the animal would pose a direct threat to the health or safety of others or would cause a significant disruption in the aircraft cabin.

You can submit comments by July 9, 2018 either on line, by fax, or by mail. I’m definitely going to comment – I think clearer rules about traveling with service animals could help eliminate some problems.

The Cerebral Palsy Foundation launched the first episode of its new Awkward Moments animated series last month. I. Loved. It. the spots are about a minute long and created to address two audiences:

1. Average people who aren’t sure what to say or how to act around those of us who have disabilities, and
2. Those of us with disabilities who don’t always know what to say or how to react when awkward moments occur.

I mean, let’s be real. People with disabilities are in the minority. It’s understandable that others might be unsure how to start a conversation with one of us. They might wonder if it’s okay to ask questions, or be so afraid of saying the wrong thing that they say, well…nothing.

I think this Awkward Moments digitally animated series might help. The social media campaign is a collaboration between Jason Benetti (the voice of the Chicago White Sox), Cerebral Palsy Foundation CEO Richard Ellenson, producer Adam Quinn and animator Peaches Goodrich. Benetti, who himself has cerebral palsy, narrates the playful spots in a way that allows us to laugh at ourselves while simultaneously reflecting on the way we respond to people who are different than us.

In the opening scene of Episode One, Jason Benetti has a clever way of addressing the awkward moment some parents face when their children ask out loud about people with disabilities they come across in public. “It’s cool for a kid to try to figure this out,” he reasons. “Look, I’m a guy who walks a bit different, and whose eyes go in all sorts of directions…” Baseball fans who wonder how a broadcaster with eyes like that can call play-by-play might appreciate the stage whisper afterwards, acknowledging that his cerebral palsy only affects his peripheral vision.

But back to the kid asking an awkward question. I’m totally with Jason Benetti here — I actually like it when kids ask me questions. How else will they learn? Later on in the video Jason Benetti says his cerebral palsy is part of who he is. “It caused damage to the brain,” he acknowledges. “And not damage to the spirit, or the soul.”

I look forward to watching the entire Awkward Moments series. If Episode One is any indication, the entire series is going to arm me with all sorts of tips to stay cool if and when blind moments get awkward. For now, the next time that happens, I’m going to follow Jason Benetti’s lead: reassure people that while retinopathy damaged my eyesight, it didn’t damage my spirit. Or my soul.

Learn more about Awkward Moments at the Cerebral Palsy Foundation web site.

Join us for a Twitter chat to discuss more transportation options.

For people with disabilities and older adults across the country, transportation is key to independence including but not limited to running errands, social activities, and working. At Easterseals, we want to ensure that you know your options when it comes to getting from point A to point B. Check out our overview of transportation options below.

In addition to reviewing this list, be sure to join the National Aging and Disability Transportation Center (NADTC) for a #TransportationOptions Twitter chat on June 20th at 2:00 p.m. EST/11:00 a.m. PST.

The live chat will focus on driver safety, exploration of options beyond driving for older adults and people with disabilities, and how to share information on transportation options available in your community. We’ll post an archive of the questions and answers at www.nadtc.org after the chat.

Via Meals on Wheels

Demand response. Sometimes called Dial-a-Ride, demand response transports multiple passengers who are picked up from different entry points and dropped off at separate destinations. This service often
requires reservations to be made at least 24–48 hours in advance.

Medicaid Non-Emergency Medical Transportation (NEMT). NEMT is available to persons with Medicaid to travel to and from medical services. Eligibility criteria and types of destinations vary from state to state.

Public transit/fixed route transportation. Public transit agencies provide fixed route service by bus and rail along established routes with set schedules and no reservations required. Limited fixed route services may be available through other community agencies, such as trips to and from a Center for Independent Living or a senior center.

Paratransit. Paratransit must be offered by public transit agencies to individuals who are not able to use fixed route service. This is a requirement of the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA). Paratransit is a complement to public transit, so must operate within ¾ of a mile of the fixed route and is available during the same hours as the fixed route service. Paratransit is a door-to-door service. A personal care attendant can travel with the passenger at no cost. To qualify for paratransit, riders need to meet specific eligibility requirements established under ADA.

Shared Ride Services (also known as Transportation Network Companies or TNCs). These
include Uber and Lyft and connect private pay passengers with drivers who provide transportation in
their own vehicles. These services do not typically offer wheelchair accessible vehicles or rider assistance. Passengers connect with drivers via websites or mobile apps on a smartphone and also pay for the services through a personal account on their phone. A growing number of communities offer access to shared ride services to older adults and people with disabilities through a scheduling phone line which may be operated by a nonprofit organization.

Taxi Services. Taxis are licensed vehicles that offer on-demand services to passengers. Trips usually can be scheduled in advance or on the spot, and fares are charged per mile or per minute. Many communities require taxi companies to have accessible vehicles in their fleets. Some community agencies offer taxi vouchers to older adults and people with disabilities who meet certain
eligibility criteria.

Travel Training. Public transit agencies and local aging and disability organizations provide free instruction to help new riders learn to travel safely on public transit. Travel training may be provided by professionals or peers who are experienced users of public transit. The training generally includes classroom instruction plus a group trip on transit.

Transportation Voucher Programs. Voucher programs provide fare assistance or free rides to low-income older adults and people with disabilities who meet the program’s eligibility criteria. Eligible riders usually receive vouchers for specific types of transportation. Voucher programs may offer rides only to certain destinations, such as medical appointments.

Volunteer Transportation Programs. These types of programs may be offered by local nonprofit and faith-based organizations. Drivers provide rides in their own cars or agency-owned vehicles for passengers to reach medical appointments or other important destinations. Rides are generally pre-arranged. Volunteer transportation programs may also offer door-to-door or door-through-door assistance. Some programs require riders to pay a small fee while others offer free rides.

More posts about transportation:

• Transportation Is Key For People with Disabilities in America
• Tips for wheelchair-friendly train travel
• Best ways to get around rural areas without a car

When my mother died a few years ago, she left a small amount of money to each of her grandchildren. Except for our son Gus. We specifically asked her not to include him in her will.

Gus has significant physical and developmental disabilities and receives Medicaid and Social Security Disability Income (SSDI). Before my mother died, my husband and I had to explain to her that having even a modest amount in savings or assets could jeopardize her beloved grandson’s eligibility to receive those public benefits.

That all changed in 2014. The support of Easterseals and countless other non-profits urged lawmakers to come up with a savings tool to help families save for the future needs of their children with disabilities, and when the Achieving a Better Life Experience (ABLE) ACT was signed into law in 2014, it introduced a way for families with special needs to save in a tax-advantaged account as a supplement to private insurance and government benefits. An article in Forbes Magazine reports that more than 30 states have administered ABLE programs, and over 13,000 accounts have been opened so far. I am one of those 13,000 people with an ABLE account now –I opened one a few months ago and will use it to save for future expenses our family may face due to disability.

The ABLE Act Congress signed into law in 2014 limits the savings tool to individuals who acquired their disability before turning age 26, and a new effort is underway in Congress to raise the age limit. Increasing the age limit would ensure that more individuals with disabilities could set money aside for future needs the way that others save up for housing, employment training, personal support services, or other supports to improve their health and independence. So take action now and contact your Members of Congress to tell them to cosponsor and approve the ABLE Age Adjustment Act (H.R. 1874/ S. 817). It’s the right thing to do, and is an essential step toward achieving sustainability for the current ABLE account program.

Stay updated on legislation affecting people with disabilities, and learn how you can take action.

Is it just me, or have you noticed a trend in “adaptive fashion” lately? It seems more and more stylish apparel is being designed for a variety of audiences:

• People with disabilities
• People who have suffered an injury
• Patients undergoing various medical treatments
• People with sensory issues who need clothing made of extra-soft materials
• Older adults.

After hosting a Thrive disability and fashion chat in 2016 about what it means to be a fashionista in a society that doesn’t always consider the accessibility of clothing and style, Erin Hawley posted a blog here urging designers to consider accessibility as an integral part of their design process, and you know what? The designers listened.

I wrote a post here last year when Tommy Hilfiger made fashion history by launching Tommy Adaptive, the first mainstream adaptive collection of clothing. Since then I’ve read stories in print and social media about retail stores like Target and Macy’s offering adaptive clothing, and just this past weekend, A Place For Mom published a blog post called New Family Caregivers Guide to Adaptive Clothing – it’s stock full of information about designers specializing in adaptive clothing, what’s available off the rack (everything from magnetic closure button-down shirts to soft jeans with pockets easy for wheelchair users to reach), how to find patterns to sew at home, resources for altering the clothes on hand to make them more adaptive and what kinds of tools can make dressing easier. Being blind, my only major problem with dressing is confirming that the clothes I am wearing match. After reading this guide, though, I’m thinking of investing in a jean jacket with magnetic closures. That just sounds cool!

It’s July already, and you know what that means: it’s the anniversary of the ADA and many cities across the country are celebrating disability pride! One way to celebrate and learn about the contributions of people with disabilities is by reading books about them. Looking for a book recommendation? Check out this list of some of the books for adults that we’ve reviewed on the Easterseals blog over the years:

Lisa Fenn’s Carry On

Robert Kurson’s Crashing Through

Mary McHugh’s Special Siblings

Anthony Doerr’s All the Light We Cannot See

Don Meyer’s Thicker than Water

Robert Hughes’ Running with Walker: A Memoir

Mark Haddon’s The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time

Temple Grandin’s Thinking in Pictures

Looking for a list of disability-related books for kids and teens, too? Stay tuned for my next post, and in the meantime…happy reading.

Magnets and Ladders publishes writing by people with disabilities, and they’ll be holding contests in the areas of fiction, nonfiction, and poetry for the Fall/Winter 2018 issue. Cash prizes of $30 and $20 will be awarded to the first and second place winners in each category. Their submission guidelines are pretty clear:

• Writers with disabilities may submit up to three selections per issue;
• Writers must disclose their disability in their biography or in their work;
• Poetry maximum length is 50 lines;
• Memoir, fiction, and nonfiction maximum length is 2,500 words;
• Single-space all submissions;
• Use a blank line to separate paragraphs and stanzas;
• Spell check and proofread all entries.

Previously published material and simultaneous submissions are permitted provided you own the copyright to the work, and Magnets and Ladders staff asks that you cite the previous publisher and/or notify them if work has been accepted elsewhere.

Magnets and Ladders is an online magazine with a tagline that says it all: Active Voices of Writers with Disabilities. The submission guidelines make it clear the magazine “does not feature advocacy, activist, how-to, or what’s new articles regarding disabilities” and prefers poetry, memoir, fiction and non-fiction. They also welcome innovative techniques for better writing as well as publication success stories. You can read the magazine or sign up for the email edition by visiting the Magnets and Ladders website. Submissions should be emailed to submissions@magnetsandladders.org, and you might think about getting started now — the deadline for submissions for this year’s Fall/Winter issue is August 15, 2018.

Independence Day has come and gone, but there’s still a lot to celebrate this month: It’s the anniversary of the ADA and many cities across the country are celebrating disability pride! One way to celebrate and learn about the contributions of people with disabilities is by reading books about them. Earlier this month I put together a blog post with a list of books about disability for adults, and now it’s time for the kids. Here’s a list of some of the books for children and young adults we’ve reviewed over the years:

For younger kids

• Celeste Shally’s Since We’re Friends: An Autism Picture Book
• Jack Gantos’ Joey Pigza books
• Karen L. Simmons’ Little Rainman
• Pat Thomas’ Don’t Call Me Special
• Jacqueline Williams-Hines’ The Adventures of Suther Joshua from Planet Yethican
• Adiba Nelson’s Meet ClaraBelle Blue

For teens and young adults

• Cynthia Lord’s Rules
• Naoki Higashida’s The Reason I Jump
• Stephen Shore’s Beyond the Wall
• Gennifer Choldenko’s Al Capone Does My Shirts
• Marlene Brill’s Speech and Language Challenges: The Ultimate Teen Guide
• Mark Haddon’s The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time
• Natalie Lloyd’s A Snicker in Magic

Happy reading!

This week is National Disability Voter Registration Week. Are you registered to vote? If not, learn more here!

I’ve published posts here about the obstacles people with disabilities often run into at polling places, and after an op-ed piece I wrote about this appeared in the New York Daily News in 2016, people started asking me why I don’t just vote absentee. The answer is simple. To me, going to the polls is essential. There’s no substitute for the feel of a voting device in your hand or the sound of your vote actually registering. Voting at the polling place gives me a certainty that voting by absentee ballot can’t provide.

And I want my vote to count.

The National Voter Registration Act, the Voting Rights Act, the Help America Vote Act and the Federal Rehabilitation Act guarantee the right to vote to all registered voters — including those of us with disabilities.

When I’m in the voting booth, I put headphones on to hear Text-to-Speech software translating the candidate selections on the ballot into spoken choices, I use a special keypad to choose my candidates by touch, and then I confirm my selections by voice again before my ballot is officially cast. It’s when I explain this process to others that I get those questions about voting absentee. “Why not save yourself the trouble,” some suggest with a shrug. “Vote absentee at home.” On a purely technical level, I won’t vote absentee as it’s historically fraught with challenges, including ballots getting damaged or lost, and in many cases not even counted.

It’s the larger imperative that compels me to the polls, however. Voters need to see people with disabilities out there voting with them. The astonished comments I hear from people waiting with my Seeing Eye dog and me in queue tell me they really do want me to vote.

Those of us with disabilities can’t let others forget about us. In the not-too-distant past, people with disabilities did stay home, not just on voting day, but perpetually. We can never go back to those days, and voting publicly is one way to ensure we don’t.

This week is National Disability Voter Registration Week. Are you registered to vote? If not, learn more here!

With cyber concerns in the news these days, many polling places are considering returning to paper ballots in future elections. I get that, but here’s the thing: many people with disabilities cannot mark paper ballots without assistance.

I’m one of those people. I am blind, and without being able to read a paper ballot, I rely on special voting machines equipped with earphones in order to vote privately and independently.

But now, according to Michelle Bishop, a voting rights advocate for the National Disability Rights Network, the return to paper ballots in polling places could make poll workers less comfortable with operating machine-based systems. In a Stateline article, Bishop pointed out that with half of Americans voting using paper ballots now, untrained poll workers are discouraging the use of accessible voting machines at the polling places. From the article:

“It’s a constant complaint from voters with disabilities nationwide, Bishop said. In the last election, for example, a voter called her to report that a machine was placed in the corner, turned off, with a flower wreath hung on it.

‘The message is: You’re not wanted here,’ Bishop said. ‘We get reports of poll workers discouraging their use. They say, ‘I haven’t been well trained,’ ‘It’s intimidating to me,’ ‘We’ll set it to the side and get through Election Day.’’

The article said an October study by the Government Accountability Office shows that nearly two-thirds of the 137 polling places inspected on Election Day 2016 had at least one impediment to people with disabilities. Among the infractions:

• • The accessible voting machine wasn’t set up and powered on
  • The earphones weren’t functioning
  • The voting system wasn’t wheelchair-accessible
  • The voting system didn’t provide the same privacy as standard voting stations.

I have experienced three of those four infractions at my local polling place, and I know firsthand how occurrences like those can make you wonder whether to bother heading over there on election day at all.

My polling place is right across the street from where I live. Others aren’t as fortunate. Many struggle to find transportation to polling places, and along with the lack of training for poll workers, limited access to registration materials and insufficient resources for election officials — well, it’s easy to understand why we can get discouraged.

A survey of voters in the 2016 election by Rutgers University reported a decline in voter participation among people with disabilities. That, in turn, discourages political parties from targeting “get out the vote” efforts to people who have disabilities.

“We’re segregating in the way we vote,” Bishop said in that Statesman article. “Separate is not equal. That’s a lesson this country should have already learned by now.”

More than 35 million people with disabilities are eligible to vote in the U.S. That makes the potential for the disability community to bring disability issues to the forefront of elections (and to hold elected officials accountable for policies and decisions that affect people with disabilities) pretty high. But it all starts with getting more people with disabilities registered to vote.

The 28th anniversary of the signing of the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) is this Thursday, July 26. My husband Mike and I will be celebrating with a visit to see our son at his group home in Wisconsin. Gus moved away from home when he was 16 years old — he was born with significant physical and developmental disabilities. He can propel his own wheelchair, but when we take him for walks from his group home to the park, his dad supplies the horsepower. I hold Mike’s arm as he pushes Gus’ wheelchair up the ramps to the sidewalks, and once we’re in the park we head to the swing — it’s especially suited for wheelchair use. Our visits are happy and uneventful, and on the drive back to our hotel room, we often talk about how grateful we are that the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) was signed into law when it was, back in 1990.

My Seeing Eye dog Whitney stays in our hotel room while we visit with Gus. She is jealous of (or unnerved by) our son — probably a little of both. When we get back to our room, I buckle on her harness, give her the “Forward!” command and she guides me to the elevator. We’re heading to the lobby, and hearing the bell ding twice tells me the elevator that’s opening will be going down — one ring means up. I command, “Whitney, forward!” My eight-year-old Golden Retriever/Yellow Labrador cross leads me in. “Whitney, sit!” She sits quietly at my feet. Braille labeling tells me which button to press for “lobby” and we’re on our way.

Downstairs, Whitney leads me to the handicapped-accessible door (revolving doors can be difficult) and we’re off to a nearby tree where she can “empty.” Back inside, I listen for music — we’re meeting Mike at the jazz bar for a nightcap and live music before heading to bed. No one there questions my having a guide dog with me, and we enjoy the music and banter. On this weekend’s trip, we’ll raise a glass to The hard work so many disability advocates put into getting this bill passed, and to President George H. Bush for signing it into law in 1990. The Americans with Disabilities Act has changed a lot of lives — for the better.

Earlier I walked you through a typical visit to see our son Gus at his group home. To complete the celebration of the 28th anniversary of the Americans with Disabilities Act — and to further explain how much the ADA affects our everyday lives — here’s an account of a train ride back to Chicago after one of those visits with Gus.

When the cab picked us up at the hotel, the driver understood immediately that Whitney was a service dog — no extra charge for her. Whitney has gone through a lot of training to become a Seeing Eye dog, and she always sits quietly at my feet in the back seat during cab rides.

Our driver got us to the Amtrak station just in time to board our train, and we sat up front in the disability seats. That way Whitney had more room to stretch out than she’d had in the cab.

A woman sitting across the aisle in the disability section noticed my dog and leaned over to ask whether we might want her space. “I think it might have more room for her,” she reasoned.

It took the woman a few seconds to realize we had the same kind of spacious accommodations as she did. “OH,” she said, a little embarassed. “I didn’t see — you already have room!”

When the train eased out of the station, the lady across the aisle leaned over one more time. “Can I be so bold as to ask how long you’ve had that dog, and how it’s working for you?”

Twenty minutes of conversation told us she’d lost her sight in one eye. The other was in bad shape, all due to diabetic retinopathy (the same thing that took my sight away decades ago). She was a couple years older than us, and she’d been living with Type 1 diabetes for 50 years. A nurse herself, she’d always been praised by her doctors for being a model diabetic. But that’s not always enough.

Her husband had stayed home for this trip, but the way she described their situation seemed to be a lot like Mike and mine had been 33 years ago. She’d had good doctors and bad doctors and doctors who had the bedside manner of Attila the Hun. She could see some out of one eye, and she was in that awkward phase where she is doing just well enough and badly enough by herself to annoy (or frighten) the people around her.

She wasn’t blind yet, but she wanted to get ready in case total blindness was in her future. She didn’t want to drag down her husband with endless needs, nor did she like losing independence and needing his help. For his part, her husband, a “type A” as she put it, seemed to be struggling not to over protect.

Her experience rang so familiar, and as Mike and I related our experiences — and how similar they were to our new acquaintance — it seemed almost revelatory to the woman across the aisle. “Things are so much better since the ADA was passed,” I pointed out, relating my horror story of losing my job when I lost my sight in 1986. I gave her the name of the memoir I wrote back then, assuring her that “Long Time, No See” is available free of charge from the Library of Congress Talking Book program, both in Braille and as an audiobook. “That’s another thing that’s changed,” I marveled. “So many audiobooks now!” Mike wrote down his email address, too, and told her to give it to her husband.

If it weren’t for the passage of the Americans with Disabilities Act, we wouldn’t have met this woman. Before 1990, it was more difficult for people with disabilities to travel. To work. To get out and about. To access public transportation. We’re out there now, though.

It made Mike and I both feel good to be able to reassure this stranger on the train that she and her husband back home are not alone — happy anniversary, ADA!

My Seeing Eye dog and I are heading to California this afternoon — I was awarded a grant to attend the Mendocino Coast Writers’ Conference from August 2 to August 5, 2018.

I was flattered – and surprised – to receive the grant. Flattered, since it means I will be in the midst of so many talented writers there. Surprised, because the grant I received is a “Voices of Diversity” grant, and having a disability is not always regarded as “diverse.”

These days most people determine diversity by a person’s race, religion, gender and/or sexual orientation. But hey — shouldn’t disability be on that list? I think so.

A 2015 report from the U.S. Census Bureau revealed that roughly 13% of Americans have a disability. The 2015 Census Bureau’s American Community Survey defined disability status through a number of questions measuring serious difficulty with any of the following:

• Hearing
• Vision
• Cognition
• Walking or climbing stairs
• Self-care
• Independent living

People with disabilities are definitely in the minority. Being around people from different backgrounds exposes us all to new viewpoints and perspectives, and in the case of a conference for writers, being around people with different sorts of identities impacts how you see the world and what stories you are able to tell. It’s important for fiction writers, non-fiction writers, poets, playwrights and script writers to tell everyone’s story.

Disability needs to be a part of this larger fabric of stories, too. I commend the Mendocino Coast Writers Conference for including us in the discussion – their Voices of Diversity grant is awarded once a year to “writers from an underrepresented group on the basis of age, ethnicity, sexual identity, disability, social or cultural background.” Thank you for the honor, Mendocino Coast Writers’ Conference. And now…off to the airport!