Imagine

Imagine if every public toilet had grab rails and room for wheelchairs. Imagine if every private house was accessible for everyone. Imagine if there were things to touch which helped guide those with visual impairments. And voice activated instructions. Imagine if there were written guides for those with hearing impairments. Imagine if there was a raft of helpful people everywhere for those with cognitive issues.

You’re dreaming, I hear you say. That will never happen. And I know you are right. There are too many people who think that those with disability are a negligible minority who do not need that much help. It’s not too many years ago that people with disability were expected to stay at home. Out of sight, out of mind. When I was growing up on a farm in the South West of WA, we knew a family whose son was born around the time I was. Unfortunately, he was born with disability, both cognitive and physical. I was horrified one day when we visited, and the son was tied up to the kitchen table and sitting underneath it. This was explained as a way of keeping him safe while the parents were out working on their farm. In subsequent years he attended what in those days was called a ‘special school’. I hope he achieved some happiness in his life.

Nevertheless, I like to imagine a different world. In a world that was designed with more thought for people with disability there would be no barriers to stop anyone from doing whatever they wanted or needed in order to live a fulfilling life.

Over the years since I first started struggling to walk because of my MS I have done my best to encourage others to make changes wherever they could to make life easier for people like us. I have written and published reviews of restaurants that explain their accessibility or lack thereof. And spoken up when I’ve been in venues with problems. I have told my personal stories many times both in writing and in oral form when given the chance. I have joined organisations that work towards improving the situation for people with disability.

I remember going to a restaurant many years ago which did have a wheelchair accessible bathroom. However, when I tried to go in, I discovered it was being used to store excess chairs. There was barely room for an able-bodied person to move in there, let alone someone in a wheelchair. What the H…?  When I went to the management and pointed this out, they were apologetic and removed the chairs. I can only hope they never put them back in again.

I remember going to a staff Christmas function on a boat on the river once. 

Of course the only way to access the toilets was by clambering down stairs. I was unable to do that. I held on as long as I could, then I confess I couldn’t hold on any longer. Fortunately I was wearing a longish dress, and I don’t think anyone realised I had wet myself. These are the joys of living with a disability.

Of course, things are better these days than they were even a mere twenty years ago. Efforts have been made. Most public buildings have access for people with disability. Even buses are able to be lowered to kerb level with a drop down ramp, meaning I and others can access them. There are tactile ridges in pavements near bus stops so that people with visual impairments can tell where the bus stop is. Mind you, for someone in a wheelchair those ridges are quite annoying, but I’m glad they are there nevertheless. 

Well, I will go on imagining and dreaming, and doing my little bit to improve the world for people with disability.

Ros' dedication, advocacy and commitment to MSWA left a lasting impact, and she will be fondly remembered for all her contributions and legacy. We extend our deepest sympathies to her family, friends, and everyone whose lives she touched.