Access Press and ADA: 15
Years Strong
by Tim Benjamin
Summer 2005 is a time
for two 15-year anniversaries: both the ADA and Access Press came
into being in 1990. I’m amazed at all
the accomplishments I see among friends in Minnesota and the disability
communities across the country because of the ADA. It also amazes
me to consider all the accomplishments of Access Press. Charlie Smith
was right 15 years ago when he decided, with the help of family and
friends, that a disability community newspaper would be a benefit
to folks with disabilities and would thrive in the Twin Cities.
The paper’s success has been a result of a lot of influences.
It hasn’t been a success over all those years just because
of Charlie’s tenacity or his entrepreneurship or intelligence
or his ability to surround himself with intelligent, informed people.
No, it hasn’t been a success simply because of financial contributors
or foundation funding. Its success is not due solely to the information
and insights in its columns or to the importance of the directory
of organizations or accessible performances or news at a glance.
It’s not just been the journalistic ability of Charlie Smith
or Tim Benjamin or of all the contributing writers or the hard work
and dedication of board members and staff past and present. It’s
not any one of these. It’s been all of these things and many
more, including each one of you as readers that have contributed
to the outstanding success of Access Press. Just as with the ADA,
the paper’s success is because of the people who knew they
were supporting a good cause, something that was good for all of
society, ensuring that people with disabilities should not be kept
silent or uninformed. Everyone who has contributed to the paper believes
that people with disabilities need to be seen and heard, and being
seen and heard, they will change preconceived notions and misconceptions
among the mainstream public. They believe that people with disabilities
do have the right to contribute to their own success. Most of all
they believed in the brain-child of a young man with a dream of a
community newspaper giving a voice to the disability community.
So, one side of these
anniversaries is the celebration of amazing accomplishment. The
other side of anniversaries, though, is closure. An anniversary
brings to mind all the things we’ve had to say
goodbye to and now only have as memories. Even in my short tenure,
I’ve had to say goodbye to a number of people who have worked
on and made the paper better. How many people did Charlie say goodbye
to? Especially in the beginning of the paper when so many people
were influential in his conceptualizing of the paper. Closing the
door on ideas can be especially hard; the “what-it’s” come
into play. It’s difficult to move on, knowing you’ll
only have the memory of what was and what might have happened if
the changes were made. An anniversary always involves what is and
what might have been.
Think of how the people
you’ve said goodbyes to in the last
15 years have changed your life. What if those people hadn’t
crossed your path; who would you be today? As for myself, I certainly
wouldn’t be the editor of Access Press without Charlie Smith
crossing my path and trusting me to continue working with all of
you, as he did. We wouldn’t have the civil rights that we have
without the influences and advocacy work of Justin Dart and Ed Roberts.
People with disabilities in Minnesota certainly wouldn’t have
the political impact that we have today without the voice of Paul
Wellstone. Again, my point is that we have closure every time we
celebrate an anniversary. We have to say goodbye and accept the changes
in our lives, learning from those people who struggled to succeed
and left us with their successes. In another 15 years, whose successes
will we be remembering?
Will we have an international
celebration in another 15 years? Of course, the successes of the
Americans with Disabilities Act are felt only here in America.
Before 1990, I can remember people talking about curb cuts and
how many thousands of curbs there were and that it would be impossible—way too ambitious and expensive for
all that to happen. Well, as you know, it wasn’t too ambitious
and most street corners in the United States have curb cuts and there
are many more accessibility accommodations for people with disabilities
throughout public places. In most places in the United States, people
with disabilities are accepted as citizens with all the rights that
America offers everyone. But we wheelchair users would be completely
out of luck in much of the rest of the world. We discussed that with
the Russians who visited last month. Then, I was at a meeting the
other day and there were several people from Liberia, Africa. In
Liberia, they said, they don’t have people with disabilities—but
of course, it’s probably the case that people with disabilities
are not even recognized and are kept out of sight of the main population.
Does this sound familiar? When will the accessibility that the ADA
offers us reach Liberia and other countries? What can we do to ensure
that full accessibility and civil rights reach these places? What
can we do to ensure that the disability community in Liberia has
a voice like Access Press that might celebrate its 15-year anniversary
in 2020?
With a whole lot of
help from the disability community and all the long-time advertisers,
Access Press has become a success. I want to thank everyone that
has been a part of the success and thank you for your confidence
in the paper. Thanks, too, for allowing me to be a part of the
success of Access Press. We’ve come a long
way, but we’re still in our adolescence. Maybe next year Access
Press will apply for its driver’s license!
