ADA at String Cheese

a note about accommodations

Disabled people have always existed, whether the word disability is used or not. To me, disability is not a monolith, nor is it a clear-cut binary of disabled and nondisabled. Disability is mutable and ever-evolving. Disability is both apparent and nonapparent. Disability is pain, struggle, brilliance, abundance, and joy. Disability is sociopolitical, cultural, and biological. Being visible and claiming a disabled identity brings risks as much as it brings pride.

- Alice Wong, Disability Visibility

Embodied People of Earth,

I am high as all get out on New England summer. The flora! The fauna! The little kids sitting on bridges to fish! The live music under the sky! Salads! Sunshine! Ice cream! Fuck, it’s so good.

Not to mention the Democratic Socialist wave that is busy gaining heft and speed. Despite everything, I have an abundance of hope. What if we took this collective trauma and put it towards fundamentally changing the way we operate as a society? What if our government served us? What if actually every person had the same rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness?

In the meantime, this administration is eroding equal access to those beautiful rights. Right now, as outlined in the Heritage Foundation’s war plans, they are quietly and not so quietly undoing all the hard-fought and very recent liberties of disabled people.

Okay, so the thesis of this letter today is:

Disabled people deserve the same rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness as their able-bodied counterparts.

But first, I want to tell y’all a story.

In case you’re catching up, I’ve recently been diagnosed with a connective tissue disorder called hypermobile-Ehlers Danlos Syndrome which is manifesting currently as nerve disfunction in my feet. This means, I’m whack at walking and standing, and I likely will be for the foreseeable future until some young, gifted kid figures out nerves. (If that young, gifted kid manages to not to be shot at their high school, or be unable to access an abortion, or do poorly on tests from hunger after their school lunch program was cancelled and so isn’t accepted into a well-funded university, or be disabled…)

I’ve never been the best at walking, historically. I’ve been known to use mobility aids and trip over nothing, and I do it all slowly. But it’s gotten worse.

I also love live music. It’s my church. This week, I used ADA accommodations at a concert for the very first time.

The String Cheese Incident came to an outdoor venue 30 minutes from my doorstep. I had to be there, but I was feeling pretty nervous about how I was going to be able to handle all the things. Like parking, and walking, and getting on the shuttle bus, and transversing the complicated campus, and having a seat. So despite all my instincts that say not to be a bother, I asked for help.

From the get-go, it was awesome. The parking attendant found me a close spot despite still waiting for my handicap placard. Then a more accessible, smaller van picked me up from my parking spot. I didn’t have to wait in the long line that was already waiting for the regular busses. Then I asked for help with a golf cart, and I was met with a lovely man who told us about his wife and daughter’s abroad trip to Portugal on the ride. All of this made navigating the venue so much easier. I wasn’t exhausted by the time we found a spot to set up camp.

The concert was beautiful. Cheese is phenomenal. They played the first song I ever heard senior year of high school when my brother Bay made me a mix CD of important jam bands so I wouldn’t look like a loser at college, Black Clouds. The sunset was top tier. I ate awesome lemon poppyseed donuts from my favorite donut guys. I danced with my husband. I feel reinvigorated to keep moving through this world, no matter what that looks like. I needed that show.

I don’t know if I could have enjoyed that show if I hadn’t been accommodated for. But because of relatively new protections for Americans with disabilities, I was able to have the same excellent experience as my community.

It’s so important that this continues to be the case. Not just for me, but for all of us. If you’re lucky to keep living one day you’ll be disabled. One day you’ll need a cane or a wheelchair or hearing aids or someone to hold your hand. And that’s all the best case scenario, my dudes.

I joined the club early, but you’re coming with me someday.

Recently the Department of Justice released a memo which says that states are not required to provide home or community-based services to people with disabilities. The Americans with Disabilities Act is only 36 years old. She’s younger than me. She’s vulnerable. Inside of the ADA there is something known as an integration mandate which basically means we must do everything possible to give people the care they need inside of their own communities. This integration mandate was tested by the supreme court in a case known as the Olmstead decision in 1999.

This memo leaves disabled people vulnerable to being institutionalized for life. Which is in complete contrast with our constitutionally protected rights.

I repeat my thesis:

Disabled people deserve the same access to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness as their able-bodied counterparts.

I deserve the same access to live music as anybody.

I deserve to live in my home. I deserve to have appropriate medical care in my community. I deserve education. I deserve fulfilling employment. I deserve autonomy.

We all do.

It’s that simple.

131 days until the midterm elections.

Let’s stop this train before they lock our future up.

I love you,

EBG