I was asked to do an interview for the September issue of the quarterly journal Diversity Matters, published by the Diversity Council Australia. You can read the interview, and the rest of the journal, here.
Posts Tagged: work
30
Sep 10
Wheelchair access to new Waratah trains in NSW
There’s some controversy today over the boarding procedures for the new Waratah trains, to be delivered to RailCorp in NSW starting in late 2010.
Wheelchair-users will have to flash cards to board trains
- Wheelchair-users forced to wave cards
- They will have to wait at end of platforms
- Move slammed as “embarrassing”
A RAIL operator wants commuters in wheelchairs to wave a “high-visibility” card to warn train guards they need a boarding ramp.
Disability groups are outraged that wheelchair-bound passengers in Sydney will now have to wait towards the end of the train platform – without shelter or safety lighting – in a so-called BAZ area (boarding assistant zone).
Read the full news.com.au article here.
I note that much of the criticism stems from the proposal for ‘wheelchair bound’ passengers to carry a flag or card to alert station staff or guards to their need to board. Personally, I’m not overly bothered by that. Because I don’t speak, I already carry a series of tags around my neck, stating where I want to go and what train I want to catch. Another (and one that is universally recognised by staff) is no big deal for me.
However… I also see that the new Waratah trains will have the guard in the rear cabin of the train. To me, that seems a major error. Currently, at most stations, wheelchair users are assisted to board by the station staff, not the guard. You need to go to the platform office and bang on the door to get attention and they bring out the ramp. Most platform offices are located (sensibly) in the middle of the platform. And guards are located in the middle cabin. That makes it a very short wheel from the office to the train. But now, we will have to alert the staff, and then push our way back down the full length of the platform to the guard’s cabin. On a busy platform, with many people rushing to board, this is going to be slow, hazardous and impractical.
I suspect what will happen is that wheelchair users will be asked to wait for the next train if times are tight or we will continue boarding in the middle carriage, far distant from the guard. Neither is a good option. Being distant from the guard increases the chance of being left on the train when your stop comes, and if you are not near the guard’s cabin, it’s very hard to alert them to the problem. Security too, is better near the guard’s cabin.
The end of 2010 is fast approaching. This needs some quick attention.
16
Jun 10
The Long Way Home
This story occurred a few years ago, when I both drove and spoke (though neither especially well). I’ve been meaning to share it for some time. The launch of Barrier Free has given me the forum to finally do so. Enjoy!
The day started simply enough. I needed to visit Concord Hospital to have some stitches removed, so, knowing how bad parking was there, I left my car at home and took a taxi to the hospital, intending to return later to pick it up. I was early, the appointment was on time, and I even found time for a coffee with an old work colleague I ran into in the lobby. I headed out of the lobby and a wheelchair cab was just dropping off a passenger. I was on fire! At this rate I’d be at work early.
As we headed along Concord Road on the 15 minute trip home, the driver saw a car pull out from a side street. He braked hard, perhaps a little harder than was required, and we jolted to a stop. He had just motioned ‘sorry’ to me in the back when we heard the screech of tyres and then felt a hard bang into the back of the taxi. Someone had run up our rear end.
The driver got out of the taxi and walked to the side where the other driver met him. I heard him say ‘oh, the owner won’t like this mess’. And her reply ‘well, it’s not my fault’. From there the argument started. First shouting, then screaming, then she tried to kick him, then he tried to restrain her. Not a pretty sight. And the two cars are still parked in the middle of the road, while these two nutters go at it and the traffic builds up for miles behind us.
Eventually, the police arrived, first one officer on a motorbike and then a car load. Things eventually calmed down and the officers’ attention turns to me, still sitting (increasingly impatiently) in the back.
The policewoman spoke to me, slowly, very deliberately and somewhat louder than normal speech (no doubt assuming I was hard of hearing) ‘Sir, you’ve been in an accident. We’ve called an ambulance to take you to be checked at the hospital.’ I explained that I didn’t need an ambulance. I wasn’t hurt. I was just sick of waiting while this mess was sorted out. I needed to get to work. The policewoman then offered to arrange for a taxi to take me to work after the hospital. Again I said no thanks. I needed to go home and get my car. I would drive myself, thanks all the same. ‘You drive, Sir?’
I figured the best solution was for me to simply get out, find another taxi and continue my journey.
It was then that we realised the damage to the rear of the taxi had a terrible consequence. The back hatch would not open and I was stuck.
Eventually, with the help of two police officers and a passer-by, the hatch was opened, and it was reattached sufficiently for the further 10 minutes drive to my house, which was uneventful. As we unloaded, the driver informed me that because of the mess up he’d only charge me $20, rather than the normal fare of $30. My voice was a little worn from talking to the police so much but I think my cry of ‘WHAT!’ was heard in the next suburb. He left without charging me.
Relived it was finally over I loaded my chair into my car and headed off to work. I’d already missed one meeting. I turned off Parramatta Road and into West Street, Petersham, following a tray top van with a load of windows. As I did, a car came out of a side street and collected the window van immediately in front of me. They weren’t going fast, but there was a huge mess and glass everywhere.
Finally, I made it to my office carpark and stopped the car. I needed a moment to compose myself. I realised then that I had the radio tuned to an FM station I never normally listen to. A breathless traffic announcer was giving the wrap-up; talking loud over the chopper noise. ‘Well, it looks like that smash and fracas on Concord Road has finally cleared but now there’s a doozy at West Street Petersham with glass all over the road. You should avoid that one at all costs’. I followed his suggestion.
3
Jun 10
The Perils of Being Awake on Trains…
Regular readers will recall that I no longer allow myself to sleep on trains; lest I be declared dead-on-arrival (see The Perils of Sleeping on Trains… posted 10 May 2010). Yesterday, I found a new peril – being awake. As we passed through each station a man in the cabin started asking me if each stop was mine. I shook my head each time; sufficient indication, I thought, that I knew where to get off. Then, at Milson’s Point, he left the train, waited, turned, and came back onto the train. He said to me ‘I’ll stay with you’. I assume he was concerned that I would not be able to get off the train, or find my stop alone, and decided to accompany me to my destination. Whatever his intentions, I decided he was not accompanying me to my office. He spoke little during the rest of the journey, but just before we reached my stop, he took 50c out of his pocket and put it in mine. He said ‘save it, for when you need it’. I tried to give it back, but all my advances were refused. We reached my stop and I exited the train without looking at him. I scooted to the lifts as fast as I could, and out of the station equally fast.
I told several people in my office of the encounter, and each said ‘oh, I guess he meant well’. I’m sure he did. But well-meaning for him was especially irritating for me. I can manage my commute alone. Perhaps I need a sign that says ‘I’m fine thanks’ or if they don’t back off ‘I don’t need any help’.
I’d welcome readers’ views.
10
May 10
The Perils of Sleeping on Trains…
My train trip to the office takes about 40 minutes. The other day – caused partly by lack of caffeine – I decided to recline my chair and have a quick snooze. Just in case, I set my phone alarm for 30 minutes hence. I was aware of people coming and going from the car as we stopped at stations, so I must have been sleeping very lightly. I could hear people around me talking. Then, I heard one say ‘do you think he’s dead?’. I was surprised, amused, but chose not to open my eyes. As we pulled into Central, one of the chatterers jumped off the train and alerted an attendant – there was a dead man in a wheelchair on the train! This broke me out of my slumber, and I was very much awake. And alive. But it was too late. Railway staff were everywhere. I was asked by everyone if I now felt ok. I was told the ambulance was on the way. Thoroughly flustered, I managed to type ‘I am fine. I was ASLEEP’ and showed it to anyone who would look. Things calmed down, and everyone left. I closed my eyes, but not to sleep. I just wanted to be left alone.