With the Paris Summer Olympics just weeks away, athletes and fans alike are buzzing with excitement, anticipation, and — for the estimated 350,000 attendees with disabilities — concern.
Leading up to the Olympic Games, Paris made a promise to be “universally accessible” before the opening ceremony on July 26. That means leveling up services and infrastructure, both in the vicinity of Olympic venues and beyond. According to the New York Times, such initiatives include: an Olympic and Paralympic Village with accessible buildings, multi-sensory signage and zones for assistance dogs, more wheelchair-accessible taxis, and additional accessible Ubers.
I’m very uplifted to hear their initiative, but I’m also very skeptical.
While all of these plans seem very positive, some people in the disability community are feeling cautiously optimistic. “I’m very uplifted to hear their initiative, but I’m also very skeptical, because I feel like that’s a very broad and ambitious plan,” says Erin Tatum, a journalist and self-proclaimed “disabled dynamo.”
Tatum, who has cerebral palsy as a result of a brain injury during an emergency C-section at birth, uses an electric wheelchair and has limited mobility in her hands and arms. While recovering from one of her major surgeries in 2004, she vividly remembers watching the Olympics, and has been a fan of the Games ever since — so news of Paris’s attention to accessibility was pretty exciting. However, “no matter how well intentioned, they have the tendency to be a bit performative in scope,” she says.
Emily Ladau, a disability rights activist and wheelchair user, is similarly hopeful about Paris’s goals, but also shares some of Tatum’s worries. “I really appreciate the commitment to making an effort towards accessibility, but universal accessibility itself does not really exist. It is a myth,” she says. “It’s essentially assuming that the exact same things will work for everybody. But people with different disabilities have different needs.”
Take something like a bathroom setup, for example: it might work well for one wheelchair user, but not necessarily someone who is an amputee, Ladau explains.
In her experience, Tatum says when something is labeled “accessible,” it doesn’t always deliver. “If it has a ramp, what does that mean? Does that mean we’re using the service elevator by the garbage cans? Does that mean we’re still going to need people to hold the door open for us at the time of the ramp? Is there an elevator? Is there an automatic door opener?” There are so many details that often go overlooked.”
What’s more, universal accessibility spans far beyond ramps and elevators, says Alex Ghenis, a writer, speaker, activist, and consultant focused on disability rights and climate change. “It means ensuring that you have ASL interpreters, multimodal audio and visual communications, one-on-one assistance as necessary to provide somebody with equal access and inclusion to an environment. The list goes on, and it’s going to be different for every physical environment and space there in Paris.”
The mayor of Paris, Anne Hidalgo, seems to be cognizant of these wide-reaching needs. In an interview in April, she acknowledged that the city’s plans aren’t just about improving access for people with reduced mobility, but also sensory disabilities, among others. (The office of Paris’s deputy mayor, who’s in charge of accessibility, did not immediately respond to PS’s request for comment.)
When people care about inclusivity, it will show.
Anne Reuss, a Deaf personal trainer, appreciates the sentiment, but also has some questions: “Are they doing test runs? Do they have actual people with disabilities testing/describing the user experience? Do they understand the difference between the bare minimum and what makes an outstanding experience?” she says. “For example: when someone says, ‘We have interpreters,’ I have been conditioned from previous experience to question: ‘Oh! I hope they had the necessary prep work and information. I hope they’re certified or appropriately qualified for the event.'”
The short timeline is also concerning to Ladau. “I think it’s great that the Paralympics is a motivator, but accessibility is the kind of thing that places have had decades upon decades to work on, and the fact that it becomes a rushed job means things are inevitably going to be overlooked, that things may be shoddy, that things may not necessarily be as functional as they should be,” she says.
Nevertheless, “I am very much the type of person who still believes in celebrating progress, even when I find it frustrating that that progress is slow or was non-existent until there was an economic motivator,” Ladau says. “Any progress is better than no progress.”
And, based on the goals Paris has laid out, the Olympic Games may truly be a springboard for lasting changes in the city. “These Games will help speed up the process of making the capital accessible to all,” reads a statement on the city’s government site. It goes on to state that the “strength of the Games, and the momentum they generate, represent an extraordinary opportunity to make Paris a more inclusive city, one that will make a lasting contribution to the fulfillment of Parisians with disabilities, as well as all those who work in or visit the city.”
While this may seem like an inflated platitude, Tatum has seen firsthand how the Olympics can change the infrastructure of a city for the better. She has spent a significant amount of time in London, and saw the city transform into a much more accessible destination after hosting the Olympics in 2012. Now, she says, there are many more accessible cabs and it’s much easier for people with disabilities to navigate their public transportation systems. “While it may seem like a basic thing, now when I’m in central London, I see many other people with disabilities,” Tatum adds. “For me, that’s such a good litmus test of the infrastructure and it’s a sign the local community is thriving. Even in American cities, sometimes I can go an entire day without seeing people in a wheelchair.”
And from a city planning perspective, Ghenis is optimistic about Paris’s ability to make these lasting changes: “Having that urban fabric that they have is already a good baseline for disability independent living, but you need to add the universal access features to turn that key.”
What’s critical, Reuss says, is thinking about accessibility as a mindset and problem solving — rather than a one-and-done fix. “You can have all the protocols in place, but it’s really about approaching these challenges with head and heart,” she says. “When people care about inclusivity, it will show.”
At the end of the day, whether or not Paris completes all of its goals by July 26, progress is progress. The fact that France’s capital is shining a spotlight on accessibility in the first place is a huge step in the right direction.
“It really means that our community is being more accepted and becoming more mainstream, which, to me, is always a watershed moment,” Tatum says. “I really look at the Olympics as a kind of wrecking ball of progress through institutionalized ableism. And all I have to say about that is it’s been a long time coming.”
Kristine Thomason is a lifestyle writer and editor based in Southern California. Previously, she was the health and fitness director at mindbodygreen, and the fitness and wellness editor at Women’s Health. Kristine’s work has also appeared in PS, Travel + Leisure, Men’s Health, Health, and Refinery29, among others.