Covid might have been the best thing that happened to help employment for the disabled. Employment of the disabled surged because remote work eliminated the need for commuting, which can be a significant challenge for many disabled employees. Getting in and out of a vehicle can take much longer for those with mobility disabilities, public transportation can be difficult to navigate or inconsistent, and sidewalks may not always be accessible. My experience in this regard is illustrative.
Flying While Disabled
From 2016 – 2020 I worked for companies based in downtown San Francisco, while living in Minneapolis. Relocation was not an option, so I travelled there frequently. Boarding a plane when using a wheelchair is an interesting experience. I go up to the door of the plane in my wheelchair, where airport staff help me transfer into an aisle chair. This is a special wheelchair that fits into the width of the aisle between seats. No standard wheelchair is narrow enough to go into a plane. For my own safety I’m strapped in like Hannibal Lecter (except for the face mask). I’m wheeled to my seat where they help me transfer again. The same is done in reverse at the end of the flight. I’m the first to board and the last to leave. I can only sit in an aisle seat – putting me in the middle and window seats are not convenient for the staff. If I’m lucky the seat next to me is empty but if not then the occupant has to climb over me to get in and out. There are some advantages to being in a wheelchair when flying. The airlines often move me to the front of the plane to avoid having the staff take the aisle chair all the way back, and in airports the lines for wheelchair users are much shorter.
Public Transportation: A Test of Patience and Adaptability
To keep costs reasonable I stayed at a Sheraton in Pleasanton, about an hour away from downtown San Francisco. I commuted by train to the Powell Street Station near Union Square. The options to get from the station to the street were either through the Westfield San Francisco Shopping Centre or by an elevator. If the shopping center was closed then the elevator was the only option and it had often been used as a public toilet. If it was out of service then I needed to travel to the next station and make my way back. On a few occasions people in the station noticed my predicament and two or three formed a team to carry me in my chair up the steps.
Public transit also posed other dangers. Once, while riding the train with my personal care attendant, a mentally unstable woman stabbed her in the arm with a fork. I was also repeatedly warned never to be on the sidewalk alone, as I would be an easy target for assault by homeless individuals.
Public transit accessibility varies significantly by city. Washington, D.C., has one of the most wheelchair-friendly metro systems, as all stations are accessible. Chicago is better than most, though some stations remain inaccessible. New York City, however, is a nightmare – fewer than one-third of subway stations have elevators, making travel nearly impossible for wheelchair users. Retrofitting century-old stations for accessibility would be a massive financial undertaking, but that doesn’t change the reality that, in many cities, the disabled are often excluded from public transit.
Many cities offer paratransit services – usually minibuses that offer door-to-door shared rides to individuals with disabilities. But these have their own issues. Many of these services have wide-ranging pick-up and drop-off windows, sometimes of up to two hours. A ride may fail to show up at all. This can make working on-site difficult for individuals with disabilities, especially when they are required to work during a fixed amount of time. Remote work removes this barrier altogether.
Driving isn’t always a practical alternative. Parking garages in downtown Minneapolis where I live, for instance, lack designated spaces with extra clearance for wheelchair-accessible vans. My van has a side ramp, meaning I need extra space to exit. Without a guarantee of finding such a space, I would have to rely on someone else to drive and drop me off before parking. Outdoor lots provide more room, but getting from a distant parking lot to a building in snow or rain is miserable. Using an umbrella while wheeling myself? Not exactly practical.
Weather: Another Obstacle
Commuting is difficult enough when the infrastructure isn’t designed for accessibility, but extreme weather adds another layer of challenge.
- Winter: Icy sidewalks are hazardous for wheelchairs, as the wheels lack proper traction.
- Summer: In cities like Phoenix or Las Vegas, the heat radiating off asphalt can cause wheelchair tires to flake apart. Metal wheel rims become scorching hot, making gloves necessary to prevent burns.
- Traffic safety: A wheelchair’s low profile makes it difficult for drivers to see, meaning crossing the street alone can be dangerous. Whenever possible, I try to cross with a group.
The Bigger Picture
I share my experiences not to shock, but to highlight the everyday struggles that millions of disabled individuals face – many of whom have no choice but to commute for work. Living on welfare is an option, but for many, the psychological toll of unemployment is too great – the sense of worthlessness that can flow from being unemployed is a price many are not willing to pay. So they do whatever it takes. Most of the disabled wouldn’t have it any other way, regardless of the icy sidewalks, scalding road surfaces, or unsanitary elevators.
There are undeniable benefits to working in an office: professional networking, social engagement, and career growth. But for many disabled workers, simply having a job takes priority over office camaraderie. The shift toward remote work isn’t just a convenience – it’s a necessity. It’s an accommodation that costs little but offers immense benefits, and it should remain an option long after the pandemic has faded.