Last week

marked the tenth anniversary of the Americans with

Disabilities Act, and I was disappointed to learn that

disabled persons are not much more independent now than

they were in 1990.

For most

people, it takes having a family member in a wheelchair,

or a bout with carpal tunnel syndrome, or a period of

time on crutches to get even an inkling of what many of

our neighbors live with day in and day out. We go merrily

on our way, oblivious to the simplest adjustments that

could make life easier for those with impairments.

Now let me

assure you I have no patience with people who try to take

advantage of their situation, especially those whose

disability is of their own making, such as gross obesity

or substance abuse, and I know how complicated it is to

sort out genuine from frivolous allegations of

discrimination. I confess to resenting the fact that

handicapped parking places sometimes seem excessive and

parking permits are often abused by able-bodied

relatives.

I'm aware

of the cost of many of the accommodations people with

limited mobility require. I'll even admit I'm approaching

this strictly from compassion, not from expertise or even

research. But seeing Braille lettering inscribed

side-by-side with text in a zoo got me thinking: The

inclusion of Braille in no way impairs my reading about

the native habitat of lemurs, yet its exclusion would bar

a blind person from the same information.

token, the installation of wide doors and grab bars in

public restrooms doesn't get in my way - in fact,

the creakier my knees, the more often I head for the

so-called "handicapped" stalls - but their

absence may make a routine pit stop impossible for a

disabled person. (Sign seen in England: "Disabled

toilet in the rear.")

I can get

into a building to which steps alone provide access, but

a person using a wheelchair cannot. A ramp will in no way

limit me and will provide him with a way in, so why not

ramp every entrance and skip the stairs? I may not need

flashing warnings or beeping sounds at street crossings

or in the doors of public transportation, but they don't

hinder me and are essential for hearing or sight-impaired

pedestrians.

Retro-fitting

existing buildings with elevators, ramps, voice-activated

entrances, low counters and accommodations I haven't even

thought of would be very costly, and I can't imagine

requiring that across the board. But is there any reason

building codes could not be updated with the physically

impaired in mind? Accommodations could and should be

automatically built into new structures.

And radical

as it may sound, I mean all new structures. Our homes

would be just as comfortable to us, would perhaps feel

even more spacious, if doorways and hallways were wide,

shower stalls level with the floor, and had slopes

leading from one level to another instead of stairways.

Most of the houses being built today are large enough to

accept these modifications and I think their resale value

would be enhanced.

A side

benefit, by the way, would be improved accessibility to

rescue workers charged with hauling Aunt Bertha out to

the ambulance after she falls and breaks her hip in a

bathroom the size of a linen closet. Ask the next

paramedic you talk to what it's like to weave a gurney

down a narrow hallway with a right angle turn in it, and

she may tell you that the heaviest patients are usually

in the remotest bedroom in the house - and upstairs.

Here's

another idea: Teach American sign language from

pre-kindergarten on. Kids learn language effortlessly if

properly taught from an early age. ASL parallels English,

of course, although there are certainly differences, but

the gap between ASL and foreign sign languages is less

than between oral languages.

Teaching

little kids ASL offers several benefits beside the

obvious, the inclusion of hearing-impaired persons in

mainstream conversation. For one thing, recent research

has indicated that infants who are taught some very basic

gestures to go with words do much better in language

skills later on. Why not use ASL for those gestures?

And imagine

the advantage of being able to communicate across a busy

restaurant. "George! Great to see you! When did you

get back?" "Just this morning, and we got the

contract. How's the salmon?" "Better go with

the blackened mahi-mahi."

Even

better, you could "talk" in church or the

library without disturbing others. I suppose, however,

restrictions would have to be drawn against using ASL on

the highway. Cell phones are bad enough, and usually

require only one hand. ASL requires two.

While we're

at it, let's really take a leap here. Why relegate

wheelchair athletes to Olympic leftovers? Why not

integrate wheelchair races and basketball into the

regular Olympic lineups? I don't mean having wheelchairs

and able players competing against each other -

obviously there's a safety factor there - but

schedule their competitions the same day as the other

track or court events instead of three weeks later when

the crowds are gone.

Some

sports, by the way, can accommodate anyone. Marksmanship

comes to mind. Give the able-bodied the option of sitting

down if they prefer. You don't have to stand up to shoot

a rifle. Sure, I'm fantasizing a little here. In a

perfect world, there would be no barriers to the comings

and goings and communication of people, regardless of

ability. Heck, in a perfect world there would be no

disabilities. But to play the cards we are dealt, it

seems to me that the able-bodied would be inconvenienced

precious little if at all by a modicum of improvements

that could give the disabled independence - which is

all most of them want anyhow.

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