Disability Pride

Dani Has Hopes & Dreams Just Like Everyone Else

I am what is medically known as an "ambulatory wheelchair user". I sometimes have better days with less spasms and can walk with crutches or a walker, but use my wheelchair most of the time. Regardless of my wheels/mobility aids, my hopes and dreams are very similar to anyone else's in the community. I aim to be a good mom and wife, have a fulfilling career, and live my life to the fullest. One of my passions, and what brought my husband and I to purchase my grandparent's old homestead near Anatone, is my love for the outdoors. Before my spinal cord injury 5 years ago, I worked professionally at summer camps for individuals with disabilities for 8 consecutive summers, including working my way into middle management, and greatly enjoyed helping to run outdoor programming and assisting to adapt the typical "great outdoors" activities to suit individual abilities of campers. Activities included, hiking, camping, campfire cooking, fishing, swimming, kayaking, archery, high ropes, etc. My personal favorite activities have always been hiking, backpacking, and camping. However, after my spinal cord injury, I quickly became aware of the fact that not only are most state/federal parks inaccessible and without paved trails, but the very few that are accessible are simply not enough to keep anyone entertained. Call it my rebellious spirit, but after realizing this, my fondness of particularly going into more rugged terrain that is not deemed "accessible" by a paved path grew wildly. I also quickly realized that most guides for the PNW were outdated or non-existent for most local trails and were lacking extremely important information for anyone with a physical disability. As someone who loves to write, continues to explore the LCV, and greater PNW, and someone who has first-hand experience as both a wheelchair user, and/or a mobility aid user (forearm crutches or a walker), I feel a calling to update, and even write the first accessibility guides for the trails that are around our area. My family and I are constantly finding new trails and trying them out, and I am continually documenting our adventures, creating a backlog of experiences we have had. A trail guide tailor-made for people with varying physical disabilities, written by someone that completely understands what information would be useful, and provides all that is pertinent for a day out ties in perfectly to my first love-the great outdoors. My hope is that my future guide will serve as encouragement for our local community to get outside and enjoy our gorgeous area we are blessed with, and that people of all abilities will find adventures they can go on. Unfortunately, so far this guide is only a dream. As of right now, we haven't been able to save up enough to afford the off-road wheelchair (like a Grit Freedom Chair or a Spartan Wheelchariot), or the equipment (like a Freewheel and mountain tires) to adapt one of my old wheelchairs to being a more rugged off-road chair. As of right now, my family and I are limited to taking hikes my wheelchair can handle, or I can handle with my forearm crutches, which leaves out much of the area in the Blues. As a person with a disability, most people assume there is financial assistance available for such purchases, but for my situation and many others there really isn't. Medical insurance considers being able to navigate my own 13-acre homestead in a wheelchair as a luxury, not a necessity. I'm not a veteran, and our income doesn't qualify for disability. It's been a hard pill to swallow that we are firmly in that middle class squeeze where you make just enough to not qualify for programs anymore, but not enough to save money to spend on a dream when you have two young boys and a house turning 100 that needs immediate attention.

Dani Wants You to Know an Inclusive Community is Vastly Different from a Community That's Simply Accessible

There is a huge difference between an inclusive community and something that is simply accessible. Accessibility is simply ensuring that someone with a disability has the right tools and ability to adapt, access, and contribute to an event/community, etc. Example of accessibility: think of the restaurants you've been to recently that have stairs to enter a part of their building. To make that area of the restaurant accessible, there should be a ramp and/or elevator nearby so individuals with limited mobility, or the need to use a wheelchair or other mobility device can still access said area. Accessibility strives to meet ADA building codes, to ensure they are not legally in trouble, but doesn’t go further to make the space or event more inviting to people with disabilities. Accessibility is a very frequent problem in our valley, and many times accessibility isn't even an important thought for this area. In fact, less than nine months ago I met with the leader of small group in the LCV trying to get together with people with various disabilities that I was interested in helping lead; however, the current leaders are able-bodied individuals who didn’t think about the fact that their typical meeting place only has steps to get into the building. As a part-time wheelchair user, that doesn't work for me, obviously. Instead of caring to make the building meet ADA accessibility standards, or originally having the meeting place somewhere accessible, they suggested we meet somewhere else if I were to attend the next meeting. This is a very typical (ableist) response when someone who is able-bodied doesn't think about the mobility needs of the other part of the disabled community; however, it is problematic. First off, people with mobility needs should never be an afterthought. Every single event, but especially an event for individuals with disabilities, should be planned as if a wheelchair user is expected to attend. Second off, if an event has to change because it was not planned that someone with a mobility issue may attend, it makes the individual who has mobility needs feel like a burden, feel guilty that they're making others in the event change their plans, feel like an afterthought (or simply not thought of), and feel like they were never really wanted at the event in the first place. This is where INCLUSION and ACCESSIBILITY are different. Although the LC Valley is somewhat ADA accessible, we frequently are NOT what one would call inclusive, which goes a step further. "Accessibility is being invited to the party. Inclusion is being asked to dance." - Professor Richard Bruggemann, disability advocate While many events, and some buildings, are what would be considered to meet ADA accessibility requirements, very few, if any, are what would meet the standard of "inclusive." Inclusion ensures that everyone, regardless of disability or ability can attend, engage, and fully participate in any event and community space. If an event is inclusive, they have planned it from the very start with people of all abilities in mind, including those who utilize wheelchairs. This means, not only is the space fully ADA accessible, but it is not "othering." Earlier this year, I attended an event in a Philadelphia park that was considered accessible. That said, it was on grass, and 75% of the event was not reachable by those in wheelchairs and/or other mobility aids because there was only one paved path in the park, and most vendors, food, and the concert, was nowhere near said path. An inclusive event would have been one where the entire area was easily accessible for those with mobility aids. This includes not having a separate section in the far back of a concert that is for "ADA seating” but ensuring that if a wheelchair user wants to be in the front row of a concert, they certainly can, just like everyone else.

In all reality, inclusive events are hard to come by because most, if not all the time, those planning the events and accessibility needs don't have a physical disability themselves. Therefore, things like the fact that grass is very difficult for those with mobility needs, or the fact that a building only has steps for an entrance, are easily overlooked. This is where the phrase "nothing about us without us" is so very important within the disabled community. Had either of these events had someone like myself (a mobility aid user) as a liaison, on the leadership team, or on the planning committee, neither of these issues would have existed in the first place. Creating a space for leadership roles for individuals who utilize wheelchairs is extremely important to dismantle this form of ableism. In particular. these individuals have been historically excluded from leadership, and it is still happening today, even in the LCV. However, as a valley we can do better. We can start to dismantle ableism by creating leadership roles for individuals with disabilities at all events, communities, schools, and places of worship.