The Need to Shape Environments for All
There’s a photograph I often return to. In it, my four-year-old son’s laughter is caught mid-peal, and my wife is cradling our baby daughter adoringly.
I take every chance to look at it because, one day, I will no longer be able to see it.
When my eyesight began dimming around the corners, it was so gradual that it took me some time to realize it. I felt off but couldn’t put my finger on why. One morning just before Christmas, I was driving along the highway and missed seeing a truck veer into my lane. In a second, it clipped my car, carved the engine in half, and sent me into an uncontrollable spin. It’s a miracle no one was hurt.
A few weeks later, an ophthalmologist diagnosed me with Usher Syndrome: progressive blindness paired with early-onset hearing loss. My vision, it turns out, had been slowly declining for years. Now it was in freefall.
From Uncertainty to a New Purpose
After that appointment, I called a cab home stood on the doorstep, listening to my wife and infant son playing on the other side. I knew this was the last moment of my old life; once I walked through the front door, it was a new chapter. Everything I had planned for myself and my family, for which I had worked so hard, was now uncertain.
At that moment, my family’s future felt threatened. All I saw in front of me was a battle that seemed impossible. I think it’s easy to understand why I felt that way at the time. But what I did not understand, what I could not foresee, was what my experience with disability was about to teach me about the art of living.
Today, I spend my days at the Rick Hansen Foundation (RHF), heading up our accessibility practice and working to remove the barriers to living a full life for the 1 in 4 Canadians with a disability. In many cases, disability is just an afterthought. But, in the right context, it has this amazing energy. What if, instead of society viewing it as a limitation, we understood it as a force that could transform how we design spaces, interact, and build communities?
Much like a house having windows, accessibility would be considered an absolute. Meaningful accessibility is not about sticking ramps onto a building or installing an elevator; it’s about shaping environments for different people. This includes much of the world’s population because disability, whether temporary or permanent, is part of many lives.
This change could be seismic if society could open its collective mind to possibilities. It would mean spaces where people don’t need to think twice about navigating curbs, street corners, or how to access a meeting room on the second floor. I would be able to take my kids to the park, shopping, or anywhere in my community where I can focus on them, not barriers.
One of my favourite quotes is from Neil Marcus, an American artist and writer who said, “Disability is not a brave struggle or courage in the face of adversity. Disability is an art. It’s an ingenious way to live.” I think of these words often as I continually look for ways to fold accessibility into my work. I want to help build a world where we design and innovate with disability from the start to create spaces where no one feels like they have to adapt to fit.
Creating a World for All
This brings me back to the photograph of my family. It’s not only my memories that I’m holding onto but the hope that a future Canada has room for all of us, fully visible and vibrant.
At RHF, we’re tackling some of the biggest barriers people with disabilities face and transforming society’s view of accessibility by creating inclusive environments. Our programs, such as the RHF Accessibility Certification (RHFAC) delivers tangible solutions. We connect with municipalities, architects, and the design and construction industries – to name a few. We provide education around disability inclusion and contribute to shaping accessibility laws and design standards.
Please consider making the gift of access today. Your donation will empower people of all abilities and ensure everyone can fully participate in life.
Thank you for being part of this. It means so much to me and so many others.