I’ve lately been getting an unsolicited education in a hot architectural topic – Universal Design. This is the design philosophy that we should design all spaces to be both accessible and fully useable for everyone as a matter of course. It seems obvious, but it’s actually in contradiction to common practice of the last twenty years – since basic accessibility became a requirement – where we pretty much ignore accessibility in housing, treat accessibility for paraplegic wheelchair users as the sole de facto goal in commercial spaces, and mostly do the bare legal minimum in general.
My education springs from a torn Achilles tendon, requiring that I keep weight off of one foot for several months. It’s not particularly painful, but recently my modes of ambulation have been either on crutches, or, more delightfully, on wheeled office chairs. Remember when you were a kid visiting dad’s office and got to swoosh around the room on his desk chair? That’s me, rolling about on our hardwood floors, sling-shotting around corners. The family motorized wheelchair, i.e., car, is also very handy, although it’s a bit large to drive down the grocery store aisles.
So, not too bad, except for the fact that we live in a two story house, some of which is carpeted, and that there are a number of thresholds that block easy rolling. All of a sudden, the ¼” high thresholds at some doors are an annoying, noisy inconveniences, and the one inch threshold at our old bathroom makes it impossible to visit without crutches, and the three inch curb at our shower made use almost impossible (no, I didn’t want to hop on one foot onto a wet and soapy tiled surface), until I thought of putting a plastic cooler box inside the shower compartment, which I could slide onto from my chair. Even floor textures make me crazy. The rough antique stone tiles in our bathroom are wheel catchers and noise makers. Don’t even get me started on throw rugs.
There are many large and small things that would help. Smoother thresholds (or completely level thresholds) and smooth floors. A bit more space to maneuver. An elevator (ha!). Our stair is narrow (actually good) and has two handrails on one flight, so I can hop down supporting my weight on both arms. The lower flight, however, just has a handrail on one side, so (more childhood memories here) I get to scoot down on my bottom. Also, I’ve noticed something on sidewalks that I’ve had to deal with professionally without really thinking it was important – side slope. This is the slope from side to side (as opposed to down the length of the sidewalk). It’s very tricky to deal with the imbalance this creates, whether in a wheelchair or on crutches.
The point of all this is that most people, at some point in their lives, will have a temporary or permanent disability – it isn’t a subject that just affects a small minority with major injuries. Of course, there are a million different ways to be disabled, and design which accommodates one person’s difficulty may vary from (or even be in conflict with) the solution for someone else. Universal Design also recognizes that non-disabled folks have needs too – for clear, consistent signage and a clear, well lit field of vision, for instance. So, it’s tricky, but as our country ages, we will be seeing more efforts made to create spaces – in both homes and in public places – that are universally useable. Expect to see more level walkways, smoother transitions, non-skid surfaces, grab bars, elevators, wider doorways with automatic doors, and signage in a variety of sizes and types. For good general discussions of the subject, check out:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Universal_design
or
http://www.adaptiveenvironments.org/index.php?option=Content&Itemid=3
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