This past week I asked the memoir-writers in my classes to write about “someone special” in honor of the 25th anniversary of The Americans with Disabilities Act. Mary Rigdon wrote about an athlete who uses a wheelchair and said his determination was the impetus for ensuring the 1996 Olympic Games in Atlanta were open to spectators who needed accessible seating.

I have a part-time job moderating the blog for Easter Seals National Headquarters in Chicago, and I liked Mary’s piece so much that we ran it as a guest post on the Easter Seals blog yesterday morning. Now I’m re-blogging it here for you Safe & Sound readers, too.

How the ADA changed my life: “there is nothing on earth like being there…”

by Mary Rigdon

Basketball stadium map showing accessible seating areas

My life changed drastically when the ADA was passed and I became the compliance officer for the U.S. Attorney’s Office in Detroit. I spent more time out of my cubbyhole office after that, interviewing folks with disabilities who raised complaints, choosing locations to inspect for compliance, and negotiating details of upgraded plans for expanded services for those with disabilities.

Our first real confrontation came with a large hotel at the downtown Renaissance Center. We decided to target that facility as it had hundreds of rooms, was used for multiple conventions, and was in the process of remodeling and updating the buildings. We reasoned that if this hotel agreed to the necessary upgrades, it would stimulate others to get on board with the ADA, too.

A graduate student who used a wheelchair accompanied us to demonstrate the need for rooms with accommodations– wider doors, room numbers lower on the wall with raised numerals and Braille designations, lower sinks in the bathrooms, and showers with no ledges to block entrance. After several months of negotiation we reached a compliance agreement and schedule which we publicized everywhere to pave our way into other venues — more hotels, lots of restaurants and theaters.

I enjoyed attending training sessions at the Department of Justice (DOJ) with people around the country who were dealing with these issues, too. DOJ added an entire new staff in the Civil Rights section to concentrate on the ADA, including one person with sight problems, one with hearing deficits, and feisty Joe, a speed demon in a wheelchair.

Joe was a fanatic wheelchair athlete, having played in a league during college and law school. From this background, he became a primary motivator for making athletic stadiums and sports arenas accessible to those with disabilities, particularly persons with special seating requirements. This was a long and hard-fought battle in many cases, and I cannot forget the excitement in Joe’s voice as he described his thrill in attending his first professional basketball game in person. “I love watching games on TV, but there is nothing on earth like being there at the stadium,” he said. “All that energy, hearing all those fans, seeing the court and watching the players right there — live and in person!”

This determination was the impetus in persuading the Justice Department to press particularly hard for seating accommodations at the principal venues in the 1996 Olympics in Atlanta. It was with great fanfare that Deval Patrick, then the capable Deputy Attorney General for Civil Rights, announced that 1% of the seats (850 of 85,000) in the main stadium would be wheelchair accessible with adequate sight-lines, and that those seats would all be near regular seating for accompanying family and friends. This was an historic first for an Olympic site.

Twenty-five years later I am glad to see the continuing ADA accommodations enacted, and when I see the names of my ADA comrades in the news I rejoice in their continuing dedication to the needs of people with disabilities.

Back to me. You can Visit easterseals.com/ada to learn more about this important civil rights legislation.

In its early days, the telephone (land-line variety) was perceived as a threat to family life and the fabric of society itself. It let the outside world in and let the folks inside the house out, if only by wire.

I learned about that in a memorable college class I took called “The History of Communications.”

Pretty lofty title, but it lived up to the billing. The class looked at the cultural and economic ramifications of advances in communications technology.

Disruptive technologies will always be treated as a possible threat. And that’s not all bad. Take the cell phone—and those loud, one-sided conversations in elevators and public places that included TMI like the results of an MRI or maternity test. Bad behavior, that. But it’s gotten better, partly through informal cultural policing.

And then you could take pictures with your phone. Who the hell would want to do that?, I thought.

Then, the smart phone. I resisted until my friend Seth let me play with his brand new iPhone. Uh oh. It was like the first time I used a Mac computer. I put it off, and finally gave in. And haven’t looked back.

Until now. I know you’ve seen this—people sitting with each other—but texting and reading and otherwise playing with their phones instead of paying attention to one another. I get it. It’s the new world. But I recently got busted—by a blind woman, no less—for doing this while we were out, ostensibly with one another.

The worst. I had become one of those assholes! To all my friends—if I’ve done that to you, apologies.

I’m not getting rid of my smartphone by any means. But I am going to enforce some rules when I’m with other humans. The rules are simple: You’re with other humans, turn off the freakin phone.

I’m sure I’ll have lapses, but I’m committed. After all, there are no bad phones, just bad behavior.

When I finished college I got a job at the Study Abroad Office at University of Illinois. During one-on-one appointments with U of I students, I’d ask what they might like to study overseas, what sort of living arrangements they wanted, did they speak a foreign language, which countries they were particularly interested in, that sort of thing. I’d describe options available to them, make phone calls to other universities If U of I didn’t offer the option they wanted, and help with paperwork to get their credits transferred. I liked the work, I was good at it, and soon I was promoted to assistant director.

and then, in 1986, I lost my sight. My contract was terminated.

The Americans with Disabilities Act wouldn’t be signed into legislation until four years later. Today, July 26,2015, the ADA is 25 years old, and while I am celebrating all the progress we have made in a relatively short amount of time, I also acknowledge we have a lot more to do. One example: it’s 25 years after the ADA was passed, and the unemployment rate among people who are blind still hovers around 75%.

Here’s my work story: After my contract at University of Illinois was terminated, I attended a residential rehabilitation center for the blind, learned Braille and taught myself to use a talking computer. I applied for a job at the Study Abroad Office again after The Americans with Disabilities Act had been passed and made it through the first round of interviews. Even with the law ON my side, though, I didn’t get hired.

My husband Mike was the lucky guy who got to read the carefully crafted rejection letter out loud to me. Not a word about disability. The reason I wasn’t hired? My lack of recent work experience.

I applied for all sorts of jobs after that. One was with an emergency hotline that took calls from people whose pets have eaten a toxic substance. I emailed them for details. My note didn’t mention I was blind, or that I used a talking computer to send the email. Their response was enthusiastic. I was invited to visit the office to apply for the job.

A friend drove me to the interview. I heard the receptionist leave her desk abruptly as my friend helped me fill out the printed application form. The woman who walked out next was not the receptionist — she had a different stride from the first, and her bracelets jangled. Rather than greeting me, this new woman launched into a speech. Forms had to be filled out with every phone call that came in, she said. Her voice was shrill. The bracelets clattered. Every word had to be documented, she said. Every word by every person who calls the hotline.

I explained how I use a talking computer. I could create digital versions of the forms, complete them on the computer, print them out. “No,” she said. “They’re legal forms. They have to be filled out by hand.” I tried to squeeze out more details, see if maybe there were workarounds. But she wouldn’t listen. That was that.

It was a law suit waiting to happen, but even today, 25 years after the ADA was passed, these law suits are the burden of the person with the disability. To bring a case against that poison control hotline I would have had to pay a lawyer, file, wait months –sometimes years –hoping the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission would accept my case. I didn’t file a complaint.

When Mike spotted another want ad for that same position in the paper weeks later, I sent another email asking for another interview. No email response.

A carefully worded letter arrived soon afterwards with task descriptions, each one specifically written to make it perfectly clear that a blind person couldn’t possibly perform them. The product of a legal consultation, I was sure. I got this sort of treatment more times than I care to tell you about. I don’t take it personally anymore, but back then it was painful. And confounding.

I guess it’s the same as other bigotries. Changing the law is one thing. Changing hearts and minds is another, and slowly, slowly those hearts and minds did start to change. As ramps replaced curbs, and theatres and sports facilities added accessible seating, and buses and trains and subway cars ran automatic announcements to call out each and every stop, and handicapped stalls were added to public restrooms, well, a funny thing happened. People with disabilities started eating out at restaurants, enjoying a night out at the movies, cheering on their sports teams at games, traveling on public transportation. People got more used to being around those of us with disabilities, and that familiarity made them more willing to take a chance on hiring us.

I wrote earlier this week about the University of Illinois in Urbana hiring me as a model for art students. After that, a Presbyterian church in Champaign hired me as a volunteer coordinator. When we moved to Geneva, Ill. a minor league baseball team found a job for me in their ticket office. In Chicago, a non-profit organization took me on as their Interactive Community Coordinator, and three different organizations hired me to lead memoir-writing classes. I am grateful to the School of Art and Design at University of Illinois in Urbana-Champaign, McKinley Church and Foundation, the Kane County Cougars, Easter Seals National Headquarters, the City of Chicago, Lincoln Park Village, and the Center for Life and Learning for taking a chance on me. Their confidence in me has helped boost my confidence in myself.

I am also thankful to the legislators, demonstrators, advocates and lobbyists who worked so hard to get The Americans with Disabilities Act passed back in 1990. The next frontier? Bringing that unemployment rate down. Let’s keep working.

Visit the OWN site for the full clip.

Last month an email popped up in my in box from the Oprah Winfrey Network (OWN) asking me if anything new has happened in my life since 2001, when I appeared on Oprah’s After the Show segment and spoke about my job modeling nude for art students.

After dozens of email messages and some phone calls and Mike’s photo sharing and my final Skype call with them, well, today I’m on Oprah again! You can link to the Oprah Winfrey Network to watch my original 2001 appearance about nude modeling, hear clips from my Skype interview, and see which of the many, many photos Mike sent that OWN decided to use along with my story. For those of you who want the Cliff Notes version, here’s how they summarize it there:

In 2001, Beth Finke sat in an “Oprah Show” audience and listened to a discussion about a topic particularly meaningful to many men and women: aging gracefully. As researchers and authors on the show discussed everything from wrinkles to workouts, Finke listened intently, but couldn’t quite relate to people’s common concerns. When the taping ended, Finke stood up to explain why.”I’m blind. I lost my sight in my 20s,” Finke said after the show, with cameras still rolling. “I have two things to say about that. One thing is, quit looking in the mirror! … Because as far as I’m concerned, I’m still 26.”

The second piece of advice she shared had to do with living without self-imposed limits. Though losing her sight freed Finke from the pressures of outward appearances, she told Oprah that blindness also cost her quite a bit in the process — she lost her job, the ability to exercise as often and “a lot” of self-esteem. Eventually, though, Finke chose to take back control of her life.

“I have been lifting weights for the last three or four years at home, and I just got a new job a couple of years ago doing, guess what?” Finke said. “I live in a university town and I’m a nude model for the art and design department!”

Oprah almost couldn’t believe Finke’s story, but it was indeed true. “I just modeled yesterday,” Finke said. “The boys were very quiet. The art professor said… ‘I don’t think they’ve ever seen a naked woman in the daylight.'”

Fourteen years after sharing her story, Finke is just as candid. She no longer models nude, but still looks for way that others can learn from her own experience….

…it’s me again. If you want to read the rest of the story, visit the OWN site. You can see and hear it all on video via a aol, and it’s also on Huffington Post.

I’m old enough to remember when it was illegal to advertise prescription drugs on television. And even if it had been legal, the idea that the commercials would be talking about erectile dysfunction would’ve been a non-starter. As in, on TV? Really? Plus, we wouldn’t have known what erectile dysfunction was.

She’s there to help.

Of course, a lot’s changed. I’m not arguing it was better then. But it’s not at all clear to me, that when it comes to some things anyway, that it’s any better now.

So we have commercials with bathtubs next to each other and lots of guys with a certain razor stubble of a certain age with women who are of the same certain age but look younger. And the men apparently have a big problem that pills will solve.

The latest round of ads for Viagra has comely women dressed just a button short of trash talking to me, earnestly. As in, if I’m not excited watching this commercial right now, I might have a problem.

“About half of men over 40 have some degree of erectile dysfunction,” says the ad.

Hmm. I wonder if we can define dysfunction, and what the baseline is. Because if the baseline was when I was 16, well, thank God. Because, as Eddie Murphy’s character said in the movie 48 Hours, “I’ve been in prison for three years. My **** gets hard when the wind blows.”

That wasn’t fun. It was crazy, but really, not fun. It’s a lot to deal with for a not yet young-man. So, if that’s the standard, yes, all of we men are experiencing erectile dysfunction. I say bring it on!

More generally, having watched the arc of social change, starting with the brand of feminism that eschewed both bras and makeup, it’s hard to decipher. I mean, it’s cool that men get manicures and pedicures. But it sucks that instead of women’s magazines that obsess on body types and fictional ideals of beauty being put out of business, they seem more popular than ever now, and equivalent men’s publications have sprung up. That was not what I had in mind. Equality of objectification was not the goal.

Oh well.

I feel a breeze.