Photo Description: Illustration of a person using a wheelchair outside a home that is inaccessible due to five steps to reach the door. The person has a speaking bubble over their head with an exclamation point of frustration. (Credit: Image by storyset on Freepik)
Dearest Readers: Thanks so much for your support and rolling on this journey with me! Today’s re-published article is the fourth top viewed piece from my first year of Rolling With It and explores the concept of accessible housing. Hope you are enjoying re-visiting these newsletter issues with me. See you in September for brand new content and stories! Warmly, Kelly
I’m in my mid-forties and I have never lived in an accessible home nor visited one. I’ve never experienced what a completely accessible home environment could do for me and how it could support and enable me.
I imagine what an accessible home would be designed for: easy entry and exit of the home (and being able to lock the door or open it for welcome guests), functioning in the kitchen (such as reaching the sink, cupboards, and refrigerator without standing or extraordinary effort), navigating the space in my wheelchair, turning on and off lights and other devices easily, enjoying furniture (transferring without too much effort), and accessing the bathroom and transferring to the shower (and being able to use the control functions).
Universal design principles and currently readily available technologies can handle all of these tasks, but most homes are not so designed and equipped.
Description of Accessible Housing
I use the terms a bit interchangeably, but accessible design and universal design are two separate concepts.
Universal design is focused on making all environments more friendly and usable for all kinds of people (including disabled people) and all ages (from small children to older adults). Accessible design is focused on improving accessibility for disabled people, specifically for particular disabled people using an environment.
For example, my husband and I have made accessibility changes to our home for easing my use (such as the lever electronic door lock and handle, and ramps to the patio). You could say lever doorhandles is a universal design feature as it makes opening the door easier for everyone and the ramps are more an accessibility feature as it is easier for me as a wheelchair user (and not necessarily easier for my husband, although not a barrier either).
For a long time disability advocates have argued we should be making all new construction “visitable” or with a first floor that can be accessed without steps, has doorways at least 32 inches wide, and a bathroom on the ground floor level. Progress in this direction would be a huge improvement in the general accessibility of housing, making it more possible to do further accessibility changes as needed by specific residents.
State of Accessible Housing (or Lack Thereof)
As it stands now, a 2015 U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development report estimates that only 4% of housing is moderately accessible for people with mobility disabilities (all one level and having an accessible bathroom with grab bars). This description doesn’t even fit the definition of visitability, which I don’t consider to be accessible enough for my personal home needs.
Additionally, the U.S. has an estimated 12% of the population with mobility disabilities (and growing with the increase in older adults acquiring disabilities).
Now, I know that I’m not a math major, but this is clearly not at all equivalent and leaves a lot of people without adequate housing. I know of people trapped in their homes because they cannot get out (or back in) easily due to inaccessibility. And there are situations where a person is on the edge of having to leave a home because they can barely function in it due to inaccessibility problems. So, to be honest, the problem is actually undercounted because millions may just be squeaking by in their home until something happens and they are forced to move out (likely into a hospital, then nursing home because they won’t be able to find accessible housing after the crisis).
Another crazy aspect to this problem is that accessible or universally-designed homes are in such great demand and so rare that they are more expensive (things that are in demand tend to have their costs rise). Recently, the New York Times published an essay about a woman’s quest (fight) for accessible housing and how much money she spent on finding homes and retrofitting them for her needs. This isn’t rare — I’ve also been doing this my whole life. (As an aside, I have wondered if disabled people are actually creating more accessible housing than home builders do?)
Additionally, a recent report revealed that HUD has not been adequately enforcing accessibility of housing development they fund. In 2019, the City of Los Angeles settled with HUD to make accessibility retrofits after funding housing that was inaccessible to disabled people. Unfortunately, this is just one example, as similar lawsuits are ongoing in other cities. The problem is very widespread and, in the meantime, disabled people continue to struggle to find any kind of adequate (not even barely accessible) housing that they can manage to live in.
A Preventable Problem
I have to say it’s the preventable problems like these that really get to me when I can’t sleep at night (or every hour of the waking day). We humans literally control our environment. We build it from the ground up. It doesn’t cost additional money to make things accessible — it only costs the will to do it.
Sure, if you want automated everything and a home that speaks to you and solves calculus equations, that may run you some extra bucks. But for the most part a wider door costs nothing. A ramp costs next to nothing, especially if a set of steps is the alternative. A shower with a bench costs just the materials it takes to build it. We’re not talking huge cost differences here. We’re talking intention, planning, and making life easier for everyone.
Someone could argue it costs more. But I would argue it costs a lot less over the long haul to build every house (or most) just a little bit more accessible than it does to bear the cost of nursing homes and facilities because few people can remain in their homes safely. A ramp solves a lifetime of problems and costs a lot less then keeping 12% of the population locked out of adequately accessible housing.
Thanks for reading Rolling With It! Please help me grow by spreading the word about this newsletter to others or clicking “like” it to let people know it is worth checking out. Also, I’m eager to answer questions or respond to comments, so feel free to drop a comment or reach out via email. Thanks so much for your support!
It’s neat to get to read an older stack of yours - appreciate you sharing! I haven’t been able to dig into the back catalogue of many writers yet.
I agree accessible housing is so important and yet sorely lacking. Even in my own home - some small adjustments (like raising the toilet seat an inch) - made a huge difference in my quality of life.
I’m also a firm believer that people should be able to stay in their homes as long as possible - and we need to do more to make that a safe and feasible option.
Btw, numbers tend not to stick in my head, but 32 inches is easy, so I just walked around my own house with a yardstick. I had never thought before of what a difference those few extra inches would make. Isn't there a lobby on this?