More Than Just Ramps: How Bus Accessibility Ended Decades of Isolation

Before the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) was signed into law in 1990, all CTA buses had steps inside the entry door, which meant that anybody who couldn’t scale those steps couldn’t get on the bus.

A lot of people have told me that they find it hard to believe that, in the 1980s, there were no wheelchair accessible buses in the fleet of the Chicago Transit Authority (CTA). After all, things are just the opposite today. Today, all of the public transportation buses on the streets of Chicago are accessible. Every bus is equipped with a ramp that's tucked discreetly into the floor just inside the front door where passengers enter. When the driver pulls up to a bus stop and opens the door, and a wheelchair user wants to board, the driver can flip a switch while remaining in their seat. That switch flips the ramp up and out, bridging the gap between the curb and the bus and enabling the wheelchair user to roll right in. It’s a breeze, when everything works according to plan. 

I was part of the campaign back then to try to get the CTA board of directors to agree to put only accessible buses on the street. At first, the seven-member board unanimously refused to do so. Thus, we escalated our campaign. We pursued a lawsuit in state court with the help of pro bono lawyers and we did actions such as blocking streets so that the inaccessible buses could not proceed on their routes.

We were motivated by a simple desire to get around. I lived on streets where inaccessible CTA buses passed by several times a day. I thought it was very unfair that I couldn’t board them, especially since there were accessible buses operating on the streets of just about every other major American city at that time. 

Another advocate who was involved in this campaign told me it was important to her that we prevail, not just so she could get around easier, but because people without disabilities would be dealing with us every day if they had to ride the buses with us. That interaction would lead to greater understanding, which would in turn lead to bigger and better things—like more welcoming spaces for our community.

She was so right. Obviously, our campaign was successful, since all CTA  buses are accessible today. Shortly after a judge ruled in our favor in 1988, the CTA board voted to put accessible mainline buses on the street. The deal was sealed when the ADA was signed, which says that all public transit buses in service anywhere in the U.S. have to be accessible.

But we gained so much more than just accessible public transportation. I realize now that the larger thing we were pushing for was an end to a form of exclusion. Exclusion is the biggest problem facing disabled folks, and it is what most disability advocates are aiming to solve, no matter what issue. Historically, we have been separated from everyone else in the most important places where communities mingle, such as in schools and on public transportation. And this type of separation has made it easier for people to hold outdated and incorrect assumptions about disabled people that furthers our isolation. When we are not a part of the community, we are not fully understood or accepted; we are often wrongfully deemed too fragile to survive the outside world. The separation of disabled people from someone’s life creates misunderstandings about our needs, lives, and potential.

Integration leads to interaction, and interaction helps us better understand each other. This deeper understanding is the foundation for lasting cultural changes that are difficult to reverse. In the 1980s, accessible buses were conspicuous because they were so far out of the norm. But the opposite is true today. Mainstream access has become such a natural aspect of the daily infrastructure that an inaccessible bus would be conspicuous. 

Before the ADA, there was a lot of media misinformation and attempts to justify the exclusion of people with disabilities from public transportation, like saying the cost of providing access would cause passenger fares to skyrocket. Or that the extra time it takes to onboard a disabled passenger would lead to lengthy delays. Most nondisabled people who regularly ride public transportation buses would now know that it’s not true. And the reason they would know that is because they have been riding with us for decades, so they have experienced this truth in action.

They have been interacting with disabled passengers so regularly throughout the years on public transit that encountering us is no longer a big deal. It makes me feel confident that the days of inaccessible public transit are gone for good because I don’t feel so isolated.

If people with disabilities suddenly lost access to public transit, our absence would be as conspicuous as our presence used to be.