Blogging Against Disablism Day Post - The Little Things

I work for a disability rights group. Writing about disability discrimination is basically what I do for a living. So why, when I sat down at my computer to write something for BADD, cracking my knuckles in a maestro-like manner, was I so bereft of ideas?

As I sat there, contemplating signing up for Incapacity Benefit, it sruck me that what I do for RADAR involves a lot of big things: Independent Living, Poverty, Leadership - these are the main things on which RADAR is currently campaigning, and they are all very important. "Independent Living" means choices for disabled people, not being pushed around and categorised by bureaucrats; reducing poverty means decent education and real careers instead of a choice between dead-end jobs and benefits; "Leadership" means changing attitudes to ensure that disabled people can exercise their talents in the council chamber, the governing body and the board of directors, and are not prevented from aiming high through prejudice.

But what REALLY p****s me off about disability discrimination is not the big things, but the little things. My friend Mattie has duchenne muscular dystrophy. For my recent 25th birthday Mattie, 4 other (non-disabled; ordinarily I wouldn't include that information, but it has a bearing on the rest of the tale) friends and I went bowling. I booked the lane in advance. The company's central booking line took my money readily enough. I told the employee that as one of our party was a wheelchair user, we would need a bowling machine. I was told I couldn't reserve one.

So, I asked, the company would take my money, but would not ensure that everyone who was booked in could bowl? I know the bowling alley in question; they don't have many bowling machines and they disappear rapidly. What, I asked, was I supposed to do if we turned up and couldn't bowl? "No refunds - but 5 of you will be able to bowl". It had genuinely not occurred to him that the if the wheelchair-using member of our group couldn't bowl, the rest of us were not going to bowl either.

To enquire about bowling machines or any other accessible features, we had to speak to the manager of the individual bowling alley. Could he put me through to him? "No - I can't do that." I knew, from earlier experiences, that he could, if he wanted to, simply by pushing a button, and I pointed this out. "Against the rules" he said. Could he give me the phone number? "No." So, in order to enquire about accessibility, company policy states that you have to ask individual managers, whom company policy forbids you from contacting.

Having pleaded with the call centre employee, in the name of common humanity and for the best part of half an hour, to ditch the rule book and use his brain, I was then told that I couldn't cancel and take my money elsewhere, because the transaction was in the system. I hung up before I said something regrettable, and made the half hour drive to the bowling alley itself, where I spoke to the manager in person. He expressed his opinions of the call centre staff in words which I shall not reproduce, apologised, and guaranteed that a bowling machine would be reserved. "The problem", he explained, "is that they just don't think".

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the whole point of this rambling post: they just don't think. The call centre employee and the person who made the rules probably didn't have a disablist bone in their body, but they just didn't think.

It is that inability to think, reproduced in countless policies, strategies and inaccessible designs from the highest levels of government to the lowest managers and staff, which is responsible for so much of the discrimination faced by disabled people today. That is why we are focused on Poverty, Independent Living and Leadership - because only when disabled people have equal spending power, when disabled people can make choices and demands, and when disabled people are the ones thinking through and implementing the plans, can that discrimination can be consigned to history.

And in case you're wondering, Mattie and I had a great day after all.