As I rode along in the backseat of a ridiculously expensive rideshare, something caught my attention – a row of perfectly uniform palm trees. They stood tall, each nearly identical in growth. At first, I thought nothing of it, but then it hit me how unnatural that looked. It wasn’t just that there were numerous trees of similar size and development, but that someone had spent time and money ensuring they were. The symmetry, the aesthetic – it was all calculated. While it was beautiful in its own way, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of frustration. If society willingly invests in making trees look the same for the sake of appearance, why not prioritize basic accessibility in design?
The palm trees were a metaphor for something deeper. They remind us how much effort we put into aesthetics and how little, comparatively, we invest in accessibility. I often think about what we could achieve if we shifted some of those resources – time, money, and effort – into the initial and ongoing development of accessible environments.
Developers have the knowledge and ability to install ramps or self-opening doors. Providers have access to interpretation services. Event planners have time to find accessible transportation options. Yet, here we are, people in wheelchairs waiting over an hour for transportation they order and pay for themselves, while others easily hop onto a bus to the same event. Delivery personnel struggle to hold a door open in the wind while pulling a rolling cart of inventory. A Spanish-speaking parent has to wait to register their child onsite, missing important pre-season information. It’s not that solutions don’t exist, but rather, they aren’t prioritized.
We see this disconnect everywhere, not just in physical spaces but in policies, the internet, and day-to-day experiences. While the concept of accessibility is not limited to persons with disabilities, I want to draw attention to this population. Disability isn’t rare, and it doesn’t discriminate based on age, gender, race, or any other characteristic. Yet, our world seems to have been built without considering the range of human abilities. How did we settle on one “standard” that serves only some, leaving so many others behind?
The question isn’t whether we can do better, it’s when we will choose to. Whenever we create something new—whether it’s a building, a product, or even an event – we have the chance to consider pan-abilities from the start. Instead of retrofitting accessibility features later, let’s make them a fundamental part of the design. And when it comes to tangible products that already exist, we should consider the insights of the people who navigate these challenges daily. They’ve already had to be creative in accessing the world – why not seek their input to improve accessibility for everyone?
Mistakes will happen – we don’t always know what we don’t know. However, once we recognize the gaps, we have an ethical obligation to address them. The goal is to keep learning, adapting, and doing better. It all comes down to power in priorities. Not every tree is the same, yet we’ve developed best practices for their care, maintenance, and sustainability. The same should be true for accessibility. It’s not a one-time fix, but a continual process of recognizing needs and ensuring that everyone has the opportunity to thrive.
So, let’s make accessibility a priority. The next time you’re involved in a project – whether it’s large or small – take a moment to ask yourself: are we considering everyone? Because accessibility is not a luxury – it’s a basic right.
