ooh / ah.

- ooh! Tennis champ Esther Vergeer poses nude, embracing her tennis racquet, in her wheelchair on the cover of ESPN magazine. Commentary here:

While we're hard-pressed to celebrate the reveal of a bunch of hard-bodied women like it's a major coup for femininity, a spokesperson for the magazine said: "ESPN The Magazine's Body Issue is a celebration and exploration of the athletic form, honoring athletes of diverse shapes, sizes, colors, genders, and race."

...

the paraplegic has made kicking ass her business since childhood. She recently won her 396th straight U.S. Open match in her chair.

- ah. Last week on This American Life, there was a segment on people with disabilities suing businesses for being out of compliance. It was on a show titled "Crybabies," but I would say that, on balance, it approached the issue pretty well. It edged into questioning whether suing small businesses for seemingly small instances of noncompliance (coat hangers or mirrors too high for wheelchair users, e.g.) is fair or even effective, but ultimately pointed out that this is basically the only way that the ADA can get enforced after the building permit phase is over. One business owner complains that he would have changed the height of the coat hook had someone just asked him, rather than suing, but the counterargument is implied as a woman tells the story of repeatedly asking her hair salon to provide wheelchair parking (they do initially, then repaint the lines to make two standard spots) to no avail.
Click here for full episode (story starts at about 33 min).

links - art/design edition

Cool artist-in-residence project with inside views of Smithsonian collections: Tracy Hicks

D-Crit conference keynote: Peter Hall, "The Uses of Failure":
a failed design is often one in which all the wrangling, hidden agendas and vested interests that preceded it are laid open for inspection

Customize Almost Anything You Can Buy to Fit Your Tastes, Lifehacker

On the Metropolis magazine blog, Emily Leiben on Two Decades of Living with the ADA

quick and should-be-easy

Memo to journalists, bloggers, and other writers everywhere: language like this is soooo yesterday (or several decades ago):
Polio-stricken architect worked on raising accessibility awareness, from the San Diego Union-Tribune.
"When Berenice Bernard was stricken with polio in 1951...
"Confined to a wheelchair for the rest of her life..."
I mean, really? Thanks Blanca Gonzales for covering this woman's obituary, but you couldn't have updated your language?

Here's an easy guide to appropriate language, from the Smithsonian's Guidelines for Accessible Exhibition Design:

Yes / No
People with disabilities / The handicapped, The disabled
People who are deaf or hard of hearing / The hearing impaired, deaf mute
People who are blind or have low vision / The blind, The sightless

Wheelchair users / Confined to wheelchairs, Wheelchair bound
People with mobility impairments / The crippled, The lame
People with intellectual disabilities / The retarded, The mentally deficient
People with mental illness / schizophrenic (as a generic), the insane
People with learning disabilities / dyslexic (as a generic), the retarded

what is good architecture?

A couple of interesting links...

First, Paul Goldberger and Richard Cook discuss sustainable architecture for The New Yorker. Cook is a principal in Cook & Fox, designers of the new Bank of America Tower, the largest building ever to receive LEED Platinum certification (the highest energy performance standard).



they discuss a lot of things - but I find the beginning, when they discuss the "next levels" of green building, particularly notable. Cook talks about how better energy performance, materials use, etc will cease being "green" and start being the "normative standard." But the bigger challenge, he says, is for buildings to be regenerative, to improve quality of life. This part might represent a trade-off - e.g. that creating the best possible air quality requires energy-expending filtration systems. Of course, he doesn't (can't) touch on the really big conundrum - that these supposedly most-humanistic-possible buildings are giant office towers, but this is true for a long history of making spaces more comfortable - ergonomics creates safer workplaces, better productivity, and so on.

Another issue Goldberger and Cook raise is about the LEED standard itself - many have criticized it because it does not necessarily reward innovative design, but rather to-the-letter technical performance. There are so many comparisons to ADA standards there - likewise, some architects have argued that the ADA is not necessarily equipped to evaluate a broader definition of Universal Design, vs. a rigid conception of access (though frankly, I would like to see a building or feature that really offers excellent accessibility and is not ADA compliant). It would be great to see a discussion of sustainability - as a design approach, not a technical standard - that incorporates accessibility as well - as a part of the human health considerations that go into these extremely high-design, high-cost sites like the Bank of America building. As Cook describes, he sees a sustainable approach as leading to ways of making an office building "feel fundamentally different" - for me, this point certainly raises a host of issues about what we expect of design, in terms of environment, experience, comfort, health, and otherwise.

Another quick link - Metropolis points us to OpenBuildings, a "crowdsourced" architecture info/criticism site. On this "mega-resource," Metropolis reports, "readers can submit buildings to the site and upload images, additional information, or even their own opinions." So far it looks like most buildings just have excerpts from either Wikipedia or a more official architecture review source. But - what possibilities for a user-level impression of these sites! It would be so great to see this forum used for accessibility reviews, and other insights that only members of the "crowd" can point out. I think I'll download the app to see what there is around my city..

Remembering Paul Longmore

I was sad to hear yesterday of the passing of Paul Longmore, a leader in the field of Disability History. I have gotten to know Paul over the past three years as I work on my dissertation about disability rights and design. Reading others' remembrances of him online, and talking to fellow young scholars, I know I was just one of many who consider him a great teacher and mentor. Berkeley lawyer Lainey Fairgold wrote on her website that, reading and speaking with him, "I could actually feel my mind opening up to new ideas, new ways of perceiving the world." I have felt that many times as well.

Paul was one of the most generous scholars I have ever met, always willing to chat with me - sometimes for hours, as we sat in the sun outside of his San Francisco State office or in his apartment. As a non-disabled person with little experience in the disability community before I started my dissertation, I felt tentative about my project when we first spoke. He was immediately supportive, and over time was very forthcoming about his own life history and the ways it overlapped with the work I am doing on the everyday lives of people with disabilities in postwar America. I came to think of him as a friend as much as I did a professor - until I would return to his written work, and, like Lainey says, I could feel my mind expanding. His insights on practices of history writing - for example, in his essays on the League of the Physically Handicapped and on the reformer Randolph Bourne, both in the collection Why I Burned My Book and Other Essays on Disability - are seminal works for any historian of 20th century America.

Paul was an accomplished scholar in two fields: Early American History and Disability History. After he completed his MA and PhD at Occidental College and Claremont Graduate School, Paul taught at Stanford and USC before coming to San Francisco State University in 1992. He received tenure in SF State's History Department in 1998 and directed the Institute on Disability starting in 1996. He published The Invention of George Washington, based on his dissertation, and a collection of essays, Why I Burned My Book; at the time of his death he was nearing completion of a new work on telethons. He edited The New Disability History with Lauri Umansky, and has been the organizer of countless conferences, panels, journal issues, and professional groups (including H-Disability, as Penny Richards notes). A more complete bio is here.

I was often bowled over by how openly Paul discussed the difficulties he had faced in his career path. As he details in the title essay of Why I Burned My Book, throughout graduate school and his early career people told him frankly that he would never be hired as a person with a severe disability (though one professor did concede that he was "not bitter like many cripples"). The title of the essay comes from a protest Paul staged in 1988 after he was warned his book royalties would render him ineligible for the Social Security Income (SSI) payments that supported his medical and attendant care (at the time, totaling more than $20,000/year - history book royalties do not come close). He burned copies of The Invention of George Washington on a barbecue grill in front of the federal building in downtown Los Angeles, an action that was part of a years-long battle to change SSI policies that effectively discouraged people with disabilities from pursuing professional career paths. Despite his own battles, he never dismissed or belittled others' problems. He often asked me how I was doing, offering supportive words when the dissertation process got me down. We academics rarely discuss our feelings - Paul did, reminding me to seek support and see the long view of my project. I believe his mentoring and teaching were a part of his activism, changing the profession that had not always treated him fairly. Up until his death he was still planning more projects to encourage disability studies and disability history.

Paul sardonically wrote in Why I Burned My Book, "when I published [The Invention of George Washington], one reviewer remarked that it drew on a 'truly astounding amount of research.' Of course it did . Would a postpolio supercrip do anything less? How characteristically disabled of me to undertake so grandiose a project." Still, as he continues, "I don't want to reduce my work to 'overcoming.'" Neither do I. Paul's work is not only remarkable because he "overcame" odds in a society that did not - does not - imagine that people with disabilities can make a contribution. He will have a long legacy because he investigated topics that few historians had considered critically, if at all, and because he did it while maintaining a personal practice of support and generosity. One has only to skim a few of the personal remembrances popping up online (for example, on Not Dead Yet and Media Dis-n-Dat, as well as Paul's facebook page) to see how many scholars, writers, and activists were influenced by his presence, whether in one-time meetings or life-long friendships.

Thank you, Paul. I will miss you tremendously.

20th anniversary of the ADA, other news

I've been a bit slow on the blogging this summer (well, slow meaning fully stopped) - such is the state of dissertating, researching, traveling, and letting time pass, I guess. I have two longer posts in the works, but in the meantime, some bits and pieces:

- There were many celebrations and reflections this week in commemoration of the 20th anniversary of the Americans with Disabilities Act on July 26- the major civil rights act, passed in 1990, that barred discrimination against people with disabilities and mandated equal access to work, employment, and public spaces/services. The best stories, of course, avoided sappy "celebrations" of overcoming and cut to the chase: this Act has made a significant difference in many people's lives, but remains controversial and in many cases, its mandates are unfulfilled (with improvements seen in the 2007 ADA Restoration Act).

NPR's news shows had several stories, many of them authored by, or prominently featuring people with disabilities reflecting on the Act and their lives facing discrimination, like Ben Mattlin telling of how one job interviewer asked, "How would you make photocopies? I mean, you'd be here to help us, not for us to help you," and special education specialist Deborah Peters Goessling talking about the "one inch" that still often prevents her from participating in everyday life (interestingly, she is really touching on "visitability," i.e. being able to visit people's private homes, not covered under the ADA). In a story on the Act's effects on architecture, U. Penn professor Monica Ponce de Leon talked about the more widespread acceptance of the ideal of Universal Design. She described a project for the library at the Rhode Island School of Design, where her firm developed furniture and study space for a diversity of students:

[Robert] SIEGEL: So depending on one's individual needs, one's individual size, or for example if one used a wheelchair, you could find a space that would work for you in that.

Prof. PONCE DE LEON: Exactly. You're actually acknowledging that we all have different degrees of abilities. So at RISD, since you have a student body that is there for four or five years at a time, there was a great possibility that a student may find actually their favorite spot, maybe because their legs are longer than the average or maybe because their height is a little shorter. And it enabled us to embed different ranges of abilities within the design of the space.

- In remembrance of the 20th Anniversary of the ADA, the National Museum of American History's fantastic curator and disability historian, Katherine Ott, presented some objects out of storage on Monday the 26th. I saw the announcement too late (not in DC anyway), but we can all look forward to an exhibition on American disability history in the coming year from the Smithsonian; in the meantime, here are some old links to Katherine's excellent past exhibitions on Polio and the Disability Rights Movement.

- Various spots around the web remember the irreverent cartoonist John Callahan, who spurned the "pathetic" narrative of most disability discourse in pieces like this one:

Image via the New York Times: obituary for Callahan here. A fond and personal remembrance from Portland here (via SDS listserv).

Looking up some of Callahan's old cartoons and illustrations, I also liked this one, which accompanied an article in New Mobility on visitability in housing:

American Able is Awesome

Oh man, I am so thrilled by American Able, a spoof of the ridiculous quasi-porn hipster photos that dominate American Apparel ads, shot by the photographer Holly Norris and featuring "crooked" artist/performer Jes Sachse (side note: it doesn't surprise me that a sly shot at an "American" company comes from a different part of North America, Canada):



The photos fantastically, directly confront the lack of disabled and queer images in pop culture, with a cool and upbeat vibe that almost makes you want to buy those clothes just so you can be as cool as Jes (if only American Apparel realized the potential of going beyond their usual pool of young, thin, women making porno faces/poses at the camera). Read more on Worn Journal and Threadbared (where I first read about it)- two great, smart fashion/art blogs! Image via.