Nurse Kelley has some advice for the organizers of next year's Netroots Nation extravaganza: make it more user-friendly for the disabled. If they don't know how to do that, they should ask the KosAbility community.
I don't know if any attendees were deaf, but I was quite surprised that a conference held by progressives didn't provide captions or ASL translators. I can virtually promise there will be deaf attendees next year after this year's closing party at House of Blues. (Good grief, Markos! It has been more than 48 hours and I STILL can't hear well!)
Most Kossacks dealing with disabilities have one thing in common: we have to count every penny. Sure, NN negotiated good room rates, but the Rio Hotel gouged us for everything from water to wi-fi. Give us a hotel with coffee makers and you can keep your damn over-priced mini bars.
The convention area was non-smoking and those with the habit indulged outside, but to get to the convention area attendees had to navigate smoke-filled casinos. Attention Netroots organizers: some people can't tolerate even a whiff of cigarette smoke ... to say nothing of over-perfumed showgirls.
The greatest problem - at least from my perspective - had to do with mobility issues. The venues in the convention center itself were fairly close together, it's true, but I missed at least half of the convention because I was in too much pain to make the fifteen or twenty minute trek from my room to the convention area. Some people rented motorized scooters, but the price was beyond me and I had nowhere to "park" it once I reached my destination. A convention site that provides a multi-person cart between the hotel and the convention - regularly scheduled throughout the day - would open Netroots up to those of us who can no longer walk long distances due to age, disability, pain, chronic fatigue, lung disease, heart disease, missing limbs, balance problems, or a host of other conditions too numerous to list here.
And don't get me started on wheelchair access! I met up with indiemcemopants at the Las Vegas Airport baggage claim on Wednesday evening. There we were, a guy in a wheelchair, a woman with a cane, and two large suitcases. Our first goal was to get to the Rio Hotel, so we eventually found a shuttle with a lift for indie's wheelchair and enough kindness from strangers to get our bags to the shuttle. The shuttle driver dropped us off at the entrance designated by the hotel for shuttles: some random casino entrance with no employees in attendance. Well, hell! We were both exhausted and didn't have a clue where the front desk was located. A dealer tried to call someone for us when I found that the hotel's listed number led to a long phone tree but no helpful humans ... but no one ever came. Leaving indie to watch our luggage, I limped the long distance to the front desk, only to be faced with an endless line of people waiting to check in and no bellmen or concierge in sight. Someone - the dealer, I think - rounded up a bellman with a cart after forty-five sweaty minutes at the casino entrance, which is when indie began to realize what was in store for him: miles and miles of loose carpet.
Imagine pushing your wheelchair through sand. That's the best analogy I can come up with. The Rio gave indie a nice room with a roll-in shower and other accommodations for wheelchairs ... near the end of the longest dang hall you've ever seen. I went into full Julia Sugarbaker mode late Saturday night upon discovering the push plates to automatically open the hotel's doors at the front entrance weren't working, the last straw after seeing indie endure mobility issues, rude employees, clueless clerks and missing ramps throughout the conference. We sussed out the night manager - a very nice man who promised to fix what he could - and learned that handicap-equipped rooms are intentionally located where they are, near fire exits.
Yup. You heard that right. They want guests in wheelchairs to be near the FUCKING STAIRS!! "It's for the convenience of firemen," he explained. "They go to those rooms first."
I'd like to see a replay of the look indie and I exchanged. It must have been priceless. I would also like to take a moment to acknowledge the man who made it possible for indie to get around when his hands turned to raw meat and his shoulders couldn't push him another foot, the Operations Manager of Netroots Nation, Eric C. Thut. When my guardian angel guided me to Eric on Thursday, he listened closely, smiled at indie, and gave him his card. "Call this number any time, day or night, and I will have someone come to wherever you are and push you to wherever you want to go."
Eric, you have just won the first annual KosAbility Mensch Award. It may have seemed like a small thing to you, but it was HUGE to us. God bless you.
Next to better access for the disabled, I'd like next year's conference to pay more attention to those basic life requirements, fluids and food. I can't tell you how many times I was thirsty or hungry and either stayed that way because I knew I'd never be able to return once I trekked uphill for sustenance, or gave in and left the convention area knowing I would miss another large chunk of the day if my pain level was too high for the long return walk. I'm not asking for FREE food and drink, just ACCESSIBLE food and drink.
I'm sure I missed some points, so please add them in your comments. If we speak up now, Minneapolis might be made to work for ALL. That's a progressive ideal worth standing up for. ♥