Ken Livingstone’s approach to public transport in London changed my life.
__________________
I was eleven when I went to Disneyworld: A compulsory right-of-passage for every disabled child in the developed world. It was the first time I’d ever left the UK, so to say I was excited would be an understatement.
On our first morning there we took a cab from the hotel to the theme park. In the pickup/drop off zone, before entering the gates of Disneyworld itself, I saw the most incredible thing I’d ever seen in my life thus far: A wheelchair accessible bus.
I had never travelled by bus. I’d never seen such a thing as an accessible bus. It hadn’t even occurred to me that they might exist. The fact that mobility impaired people could use public transport in Orlando genuinely rocked my world. Of all the delights that Disney has to offer a child; nothing made me scream “Mum! Dad! Nan! Look at that!” quite as loudly as that bus. It was just a bus; such a mundane mode of transport to the majority of people. But to me it represented such freedom and inclusion that I couldn’t quite believe my eyes.
I lived in a miserable little Essex village at the time. About once a day you could get a bus to the nearest small town and I think you could occasionally get a bus to Cambridge. When I say “you could”; that obviously didn’t include me. The village did have a train station, but unsurprisingly that wasn’t wheelchair accessible.
I was trapped in a village where I had no friends. The local high school was (surprise surprise) not wheelchair accessible so I had to be taxied to a school near Cambridge. This meant all my friends lived about 20 miles from me. Like every 11 year old I wanted to go shopping on Saturdays with my peers; I never could. This was why catching sight of an accessible bus meant everything to me. It held the optimism of a world that I could be a part of.
It was 10 whole years later that I travelled by bus for the first time; and that was in America too. The summer before going to university I decided to spend a month backpacking around the US. My first port of call was Los Angeles and on my first day I caught the 156 from North Hollywood down to Santa Monica Boulevard where I changed onto the 4 down to the beachfront in Santa Monica. So momentous it was that I’ll probably remember the numbers of those buses well into old age; long after I’ve become unable to recall my own name.
Now I travel by bus all the time I’d recognise that journey for what it is: Slow, boring, hot, and full of people that smell terrible. But at the time in August 2000 I felt so free and included. I think you probably need to have been excluded from bus travel for 21 years to realise how liberating it is to be able to catch one for the first time.
A month later I moved to London (well, Uxbridge, but it’s within Greater London) to go to university. The U3 and U4 routes going from the Brunel campus to Uxbridge town centre were accessible, but that was it. I couldn’t get the 207 to Ealing or the 607 to Shepherd’s Bush. Of course, being able to travel by bus was still so new to me that I was bloomin’ grateful for the couple of routes I could use.
The picture was far worse in Central London. When I first moved to inside the M25 there were no accessible buses in the centre of town, the majority of routes around the West End were those nightmare Routemasters. During the day, anyway: Most companies put accessible buses on their night bus routes and it always struck me as slightly bizarre that London transport was only properly accessible between midnight and 5am; like disabled people are the new vampires.
Thanks to the Mayor at the time - Livingstone - inaccessible buses were gradually phased out over the next 5 years. London waved farewell to its last inaccessible buses, the Routemasters running on route 159, in December 2005. In 2012 inaccessible buses still make up the majority of bus company stock around the country. Every time I venture out of the confines of London I find myself grateful to Ken for London’s 100% accessible bus network.
Sadly since he was replaced by BoJo in 2008 we’ve seen London’s most accessible vehicles – the Bendy Buses – taken off the road. Many prefer double deckers for taking up less road space, but London’s wheelchair users miss those Mercedes Citaros dearly. Even with the fact that on the early models the wheelchair ramp would jam if the driver tried retracting it while the bus was still ‘kneeling’. I was once the reason for the breaking-down of three consecutive 453s outside Old Kent Road Tesco’s…
I was also 21 the first time I travelled on The Tube. Most non-disabled people probably think it sounds bizarre to be having all these public transport-related firsts in your twenties. Just like the buses; I also got my first taste of travelling on underground trains in Los Angeles. Unlike our Tube the Red Line there is fully accessible. Even if a little scary because I’d seen Volcano and I kept expecting the train to fill with lava.
Ken may have abolished the inaccessible bus, but despite his good work the majority of tube stations remain inaccessible. Oh to live in LA. And not just for the weather.
In 2006 Livingstone’s administration promised that one third of London’s tube stations would be accessible by 2013. You can’t begin to imagine how much this thrilled me. At the time my nearest accessible tube stations were Westminster, Waterloo or Caledonian Road. All a bus ride from where I’d set up home in Camden. So I never used the tube. The prospect of being able to use one in every 3 tube stations meant I could get to most places in London by getting the tube to a station or two away from my destination and pushing in my wheelchair the rest of the way. I could make it across London in almost the same time frame as someone without a mobility impairment whereas it takes 2 to 3 times as long to make a parallel journey by bus.
Livingstone didn’t retain his seat in 2008 though. Johnson quietly cancelled access upgrades throwing away £20 million of taxpayer's money in the process. What you can’t really put a figure on is all the disabled people who can’t move freely around the city: How many people can’t go for jobs because the return journey to work would be in excess of 4 hours by bus when it’s a 1.5 hour return journey for a non-disabled person by tube? How much tourism revenue does London lose out on because there are no accessible stations in the West End? What about the emotional and social costs for people who are isolated in the suburbs?
If anyone's thinking of commenting with "but he had to cancel the upgrades! We ran out of money!" You can save your little fingers the trouble: Johnson managed to find the cash to fund his pet projects. He spent £1.4m per vehicle on the new Routemasters. A standard double decker is £190,000. It wasn't that he couldn't afford the upgrades on the Tube; he just doesn't care about access.
I am completely opposed to the cuts to benefits and public services. Most people of a similar inclination to me are also opposed to the Olympics and feel it’s unacceptable for the taxpayer to be spending billions on a fortnight long party when disabled people are being told that they’re no longer allowed to use the toilet in the night.
I don’t want anything to do with the games. I’m planning on spending a fortnight barricaded in my flat with a stockpile of food and DVD box sets. But I will never begrudge the games coming to town because the only tube access upgrades Johnson didn’t cancel were the ones essential to the Olympic strategy. The games leave behind a legacy of improved access to the tube and I will forever be grateful for that.
Transport for All published this table assessing the accessible transport plans of the 4 leading Mayoral candidates. Great progress towards a fully inclusive transport network was made under Livingstone; we then saw regression under Johnson. If we want to start progressing again, we need Johnson out of office. He doesn’t propose to meet a single one of Transport for All’s targets.
This isn’t just an issue for those who are currently disabled. Around one in 5 people have some kind of impairment. The figures are skewed by age as the majority of older people have some kind of age-related condition. If you want the tube to be fully accessible by the time your mobility begins declining then you need to vote for improved access to the tube now. Even if you’re convinced that you’re so healthy that you will still be running marathons when you’re 101; there’s a good chance that at some point in your life you’ll break your ankle playing football and be on crutches for 6 weeks. Just bear that probability in mind if you're thinking of voting Johnson because "he's a right laugh!"
I can’t stand the Labour party in its current state. They’re the ones who kick-started the horrific welfare reform by introducing Employment and Support Allowance in 2008. I have no confidence in the current Labour party leadership: I wouldn't trust Ed Miliband to run a proverbial in a brewery, never mind a country. Labour have moved too far to the right for my liking, though sadly I have to concede that out of all the main parties; they are the lesser of three evils. If a General Election were called tomorrow I’d vote Green without hesitation.
It saddens me that Ken rejoined Labour after serving his first term as London Mayor as an independent candidate. I would feel much happier putting my mark next to his name if he weren’t affiliated with a party I have no love for.
But put my mark next to his name I shall. Like I said at the start: His transport policies changed my life. At least now my second nearest tube station is accessible, even if the closest one to my home isn’t.
The post is something of a "two birds with one stone" job. Today is Blogging Against Disablism Day and London goes to the polls on Thursday. I think the word "disablism" does what it says on the tin and clearly a transport system which has wheelchair access at less than one in three stations is a transport system that discriminates against disabled people. So combining the 2 I'm blogging to appeal to Londoners to vote for a candidate that'll make the public transport system a little less disablist.
A couple of weeks ago I got a "Back Boris" taxi receipt. If he hadn't cancelled tube access upgrades I wouldn't have needed a cab.
Showing posts with label public transport. Show all posts
Showing posts with label public transport. Show all posts
24 July 2010
The lowest of the low
Being female, gay and disabled1 you'd think I'd experience 3 times as much discrimination as a disabled but otherwise socially privileged bloke, right?
Wrong. All the discrimination I ever experience is disablism.
Not only is experiencing daily disablist acts (like not being able to get into a brand new café) frustrating, there's also the constant reminders that discrimination against disabled people provokes the least outrage among society at large out of all the isms.
Easter weekend 2009 there was the amazonfail brouhaha. It doesn't matter if someone from amazon.fr pressed the wrong button which "accidentally" meant rankings were stripped from any books to do with homosexuality or sex and disability. Where the conscious and deliberate disablism occurred was in the web/media frenzy. Everyone on the planet cried "homophobia" in their tweets, blog posts and news articles. Only a tiny, tiny smattering of people gave a crap that books on disability and sexuality had been affected too.
A couple of months ago the LGBT Labour party conference were refused drinks in a London pub. The story of homophobic discrimination spread across the internet like wildfire and was global news within a couple of hours. My gut reaction upon reading the story was to tweet Greencoat Boy: The gay in me is horrified. The disabled in me says "so what? Disabled people get refused service DAILY and it's not news.".
Two hours later my point got illustrated perfectly. I read this story of a wheelchair-using woman being refused service in a restaurant on the very same day. Naturally I tweeted the link. The story of a homophobic bar manager was tweeted and retweeted thousands and thousands of times. How many people retweeted the tale of a disablist restaurant manager? Two. Not two thousand; just two.
Yesterday it was news that a niqab-wearing young Muslim woman and her friend were refused entry onto a bus for "being a threat". I'm refused entry to roughly one in 5 of the buses I try to board because I'm a wheelchair user. Very often the driver doesn't even have the balls to tell me he's going to refuse me access, he just pulls up at the stop, doesn't get the ramp out, allows able-bodied2 passengers to board and then drives off.
Where's my news story in the top 10 on the BBC News website? Where's my "urgent investigation" into the discrimination I faced?
Superaleja once referred to "multiple layers of discrimination, like a crip-fail onion," which I think perfectly describes the 3 situations I've written about here. First disabled people get discriminated against, then there's the second layer of discrimination where we're denied the public outcry of horror that would be extended to the same discrimination being committed against any other minority group.
1 I have been told on many an occasion that it's a shame I'm not black too. During my stand up days (before I became too ill to carry on) I had an 'anti-fan' in Brighton who came to see me every time I gigged in the city to accuse me of being racist for telling the story of how daft people sometimes say "it's a shame you're not black." Being so hated really made me feel like I was doing the job properly.
2 I'm deliberately using the phrase "able-bodied" as the opposite of "physically impaired". There's a chance that some of the people boarding the bus are both disabled and able-bodied.
Wrong. All the discrimination I ever experience is disablism.
Not only is experiencing daily disablist acts (like not being able to get into a brand new café) frustrating, there's also the constant reminders that discrimination against disabled people provokes the least outrage among society at large out of all the isms.
Easter weekend 2009 there was the amazonfail brouhaha. It doesn't matter if someone from amazon.fr pressed the wrong button which "accidentally" meant rankings were stripped from any books to do with homosexuality or sex and disability. Where the conscious and deliberate disablism occurred was in the web/media frenzy. Everyone on the planet cried "homophobia" in their tweets, blog posts and news articles. Only a tiny, tiny smattering of people gave a crap that books on disability and sexuality had been affected too.
A couple of months ago the LGBT Labour party conference were refused drinks in a London pub. The story of homophobic discrimination spread across the internet like wildfire and was global news within a couple of hours. My gut reaction upon reading the story was to tweet Greencoat Boy: The gay in me is horrified. The disabled in me says "so what? Disabled people get refused service DAILY and it's not news.".
Two hours later my point got illustrated perfectly. I read this story of a wheelchair-using woman being refused service in a restaurant on the very same day. Naturally I tweeted the link. The story of a homophobic bar manager was tweeted and retweeted thousands and thousands of times. How many people retweeted the tale of a disablist restaurant manager? Two. Not two thousand; just two.
Yesterday it was news that a niqab-wearing young Muslim woman and her friend were refused entry onto a bus for "being a threat". I'm refused entry to roughly one in 5 of the buses I try to board because I'm a wheelchair user. Very often the driver doesn't even have the balls to tell me he's going to refuse me access, he just pulls up at the stop, doesn't get the ramp out, allows able-bodied2 passengers to board and then drives off.
Where's my news story in the top 10 on the BBC News website? Where's my "urgent investigation" into the discrimination I faced?
Superaleja once referred to "multiple layers of discrimination, like a crip-fail onion," which I think perfectly describes the 3 situations I've written about here. First disabled people get discriminated against, then there's the second layer of discrimination where we're denied the public outcry of horror that would be extended to the same discrimination being committed against any other minority group.
1 I have been told on many an occasion that it's a shame I'm not black too. During my stand up days (before I became too ill to carry on) I had an 'anti-fan' in Brighton who came to see me every time I gigged in the city to accuse me of being racist for telling the story of how daft people sometimes say "it's a shame you're not black." Being so hated really made me feel like I was doing the job properly.
2 I'm deliberately using the phrase "able-bodied" as the opposite of "physically impaired". There's a chance that some of the people boarding the bus are both disabled and able-bodied.
04 September 2007
I'm finding it hard to adjust to being back in the real world.
I know I was only on a FOCUS project for 6 days... And that was nearly a month ago. But I still haven't quite gotten into the swing of being back in reality.
One of the things I love most about FOCUS is that the staff and other volunteers simply see me as me. They respect me for my knowledge, skills and experience and don't judge me on the basis of my impairment. If you're disabled and reading this I'm sure you can appreciate straight away how far removed such a simple thing is from day-to-day life.
I've been fortunate enough to be able to spend some quality time with other volunteers that were there since the project. LilWatcherGirl and I went to see Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix at the IMAX together, for example.
"Right, you hide, I'll hail the bus. When the driver gets the ramp out, appear and get on behind me before the driver has the chance to close the doors!"
Because London buses only have one wheelchair space. As we wandered towards the bus stop we had a little discussion about how we were both going to fit in the one space. Oh, if you can catch a bus without having to have a strategic planning meeting you really don't know what you're missing.
It was coming home from the cinema that night that I really missed being in a FOCUS bubble for the first time. Sure, the project didn't exactly run smoothly (*cough* understatement *cough*) but there were some amazing people there. As LWG and I boarded at the rear ramped door, LWG's OtherArf, being a walkie, boarded at the front door. I heard the driver ask her "Where are they getting off?"
If I wasn't so throughly exhausted (this was a Tuesday, on the Sunday night I'd been up all night with sinus pain, and on the Monday I'd been up all night from taking Sudafed which is kinda like speed) I'd have burst into a screamy rage at him. How dare the driver ask someone else questions about me?
For the record, I don't take sugar.
But, I was too exhausted to fly off the handle. Instead I sat and pondered how much the real world sucks.
The bank holiday weekend was awesome. 4 of us volunteers spent the weekend together in Manchester. I don't really drink much alcohol these days; in fact, so little that I'd kept track of all the alcohol I'd drunk so far this year.
Until the bank holiday. Good times.
Being with a group of FOCUSy types out in the real world is kinda strange, but also very cool.
Being out in the real world I was subjected to the usual rubbish: people patting me sympathetically on the shoulder, people grabbing me and trying to push me, etc, etc. But, I had my bodyguards! Oh yes.
On the Sunday night we were indulging in some dirty street drinking (seeing as none of us could afford bar prices). Being FOCUS folk we all know the FOCUS dance routine to "Shake a Tail Feather" (from The Blues Brothers). And, having had a few drinks we decided that dancing to it on Canal Street would be a wonderful idea.
So, there we were quite happily getting our twist on, minding our own business, dancing away. When some guy decides that he wants to grab the-lady-in-the-wheelchair and start pushing her around. Before I could even start screaming I heard:
"Oi! Fuck off! Do one!"
My bodyguards came to my rescue. Good times. Unfortunately it ruined our dance and destroyed any chance of applause from our audience.
I wish I could take those 3 dirty street drinking scum chums with me wherever I went. Unfortunately 2 live in Manchester and the other in Cambridge. I could've done with them on Friday night when at a Treasure Tones gig some creepy drunk guy decided that I was wonderful. *shudder*
I know I was only on a FOCUS project for 6 days... And that was nearly a month ago. But I still haven't quite gotten into the swing of being back in reality.
One of the things I love most about FOCUS is that the staff and other volunteers simply see me as me. They respect me for my knowledge, skills and experience and don't judge me on the basis of my impairment. If you're disabled and reading this I'm sure you can appreciate straight away how far removed such a simple thing is from day-to-day life.
I've been fortunate enough to be able to spend some quality time with other volunteers that were there since the project. LilWatcherGirl and I went to see Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix at the IMAX together, for example.
"Right, you hide, I'll hail the bus. When the driver gets the ramp out, appear and get on behind me before the driver has the chance to close the doors!"
Because London buses only have one wheelchair space. As we wandered towards the bus stop we had a little discussion about how we were both going to fit in the one space. Oh, if you can catch a bus without having to have a strategic planning meeting you really don't know what you're missing.
It was coming home from the cinema that night that I really missed being in a FOCUS bubble for the first time. Sure, the project didn't exactly run smoothly (*cough* understatement *cough*) but there were some amazing people there. As LWG and I boarded at the rear ramped door, LWG's OtherArf, being a walkie, boarded at the front door. I heard the driver ask her "Where are they getting off?"
If I wasn't so throughly exhausted (this was a Tuesday, on the Sunday night I'd been up all night with sinus pain, and on the Monday I'd been up all night from taking Sudafed which is kinda like speed) I'd have burst into a screamy rage at him. How dare the driver ask someone else questions about me?
For the record, I don't take sugar.
But, I was too exhausted to fly off the handle. Instead I sat and pondered how much the real world sucks.
The bank holiday weekend was awesome. 4 of us volunteers spent the weekend together in Manchester. I don't really drink much alcohol these days; in fact, so little that I'd kept track of all the alcohol I'd drunk so far this year.
Until the bank holiday. Good times.
Being with a group of FOCUSy types out in the real world is kinda strange, but also very cool.
Being out in the real world I was subjected to the usual rubbish: people patting me sympathetically on the shoulder, people grabbing me and trying to push me, etc, etc. But, I had my bodyguards! Oh yes.
On the Sunday night we were indulging in some dirty street drinking (seeing as none of us could afford bar prices). Being FOCUS folk we all know the FOCUS dance routine to "Shake a Tail Feather" (from The Blues Brothers). And, having had a few drinks we decided that dancing to it on Canal Street would be a wonderful idea.
So, there we were quite happily getting our twist on, minding our own business, dancing away. When some guy decides that he wants to grab the-lady-in-the-wheelchair and start pushing her around. Before I could even start screaming I heard:
"Oi! Fuck off! Do one!"
My bodyguards came to my rescue. Good times. Unfortunately it ruined our dance and destroyed any chance of applause from our audience.
I wish I could take those 3 dirty street drinking scum chums with me wherever I went. Unfortunately 2 live in Manchester and the other in Cambridge. I could've done with them on Friday night when at a Treasure Tones gig some creepy drunk guy decided that I was wonderful. *shudder*
02 August 2007
If I were president of the world I'd insist on people-washes at bus stops.
They'd work on the same principal as car washes - go through, get clean.
I'm sick of stinky people on public transport. Literally. Yesterday on a 31 bus on my way to a gig I nearly threw up on someone because he smelled so awful.
And it's not like I can escape and move to a different seat - what with being confined to the wheelchair space and all.*
One of the other comics last night nearly shared with me the reason why men who smell of wee do so. But then he decided to go to Leeds instead. I feel all lurchy having been left here.
I'd also force Cadbury's to make Creme Eggs all year round - that way I wouldn't get fat around Easter from scoffing as many as I can before they disappear from stores.
Yes, I know they now do the Dairy Milk with Creme Egg all year round, but they're just wrong. The Creme filling to chocolate ratio is all wrong, and... wrongness!
*Yes, I know there's nothing "confining" about a wheelchair, it's a tool of mobility and enablement. Only being allowed to sit in one spot on the bus however does have something of a confined feel. Yes.
They'd work on the same principal as car washes - go through, get clean.
I'm sick of stinky people on public transport. Literally. Yesterday on a 31 bus on my way to a gig I nearly threw up on someone because he smelled so awful.
And it's not like I can escape and move to a different seat - what with being confined to the wheelchair space and all.*
One of the other comics last night nearly shared with me the reason why men who smell of wee do so. But then he decided to go to Leeds instead. I feel all lurchy having been left here.
I'd also force Cadbury's to make Creme Eggs all year round - that way I wouldn't get fat around Easter from scoffing as many as I can before they disappear from stores.
Yes, I know they now do the Dairy Milk with Creme Egg all year round, but they're just wrong. The Creme filling to chocolate ratio is all wrong, and... wrongness!
*Yes, I know there's nothing "confining" about a wheelchair, it's a tool of mobility and enablement. Only being allowed to sit in one spot on the bus however does have something of a confined feel. Yes.
15 April 2006
Yesterday I felt truly at home, here on the other side of the world.
It absolutely pissed down. How British.
"What the hell am I doing drinking in L.A. at 26?" Sheltering from the rain. That's what.
And as if that wasn't enough... I spent over an hour waiting for a bus with a lift that worked. I really felt like I was back in London. Except of course for the fact that I was having to wait for the bus on the other side of the road.
The one thing to constantly remind me that I was, indeed, in America, was the fact that as I waited for my bus:
1) No-one asked me if I needed any help crossing the road.
2) No small children pointed and stared.
3) None of the passing dogs started yapping at me because they've never seen a wheelchair before.
In America, we can get everywhere (hell, even the Lush store a block from my hostel is accessible. You know you're in a crip friendly country if you can get in a Lush with ease), so, we are everywhere.
As a result, your average American is used to seeing us wheelies everywhere and doesn't look at you like you're a piece of modern art on wheels.
When I did finally board a bus, only one person on board did an owl impression (the head rotation) to see how the lift worked liked they'd never seen a crip getting on a bus before.
You know. I could get used to this...
It absolutely pissed down. How British.
"What the hell am I doing drinking in L.A. at 26?" Sheltering from the rain. That's what.
And as if that wasn't enough... I spent over an hour waiting for a bus with a lift that worked. I really felt like I was back in London. Except of course for the fact that I was having to wait for the bus on the other side of the road.
The one thing to constantly remind me that I was, indeed, in America, was the fact that as I waited for my bus:
1) No-one asked me if I needed any help crossing the road.
2) No small children pointed and stared.
3) None of the passing dogs started yapping at me because they've never seen a wheelchair before.
In America, we can get everywhere (hell, even the Lush store a block from my hostel is accessible. You know you're in a crip friendly country if you can get in a Lush with ease), so, we are everywhere.
As a result, your average American is used to seeing us wheelies everywhere and doesn't look at you like you're a piece of modern art on wheels.
When I did finally board a bus, only one person on board did an owl impression (the head rotation) to see how the lift worked liked they'd never seen a crip getting on a bus before.
You know. I could get used to this...
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