Accessibility & Inclusion in Housing Design

Flexible, biophilic courtyard shared by George W. Davis Senior Housing residents and the attached neighborhood-serving community center, framed by Afrocentric design elements. (Bruce Damonte)

By Anne Riggs

In the United States, “accessible” has become a legally defined term denoting compliance with minimum required standards for programs, places, and products to be usable by people with disabilities. These standards include federal civil rights legislation such as the well known Americans with Disabilities Act of 1990 (ADA) and the 1968 Fair Housing Act, as well as various state and local building codes. The ADA and related laws have been critical in guaranteeing basic civil rights for people with disabilities. While compliance with these minimum standards does ensure a valuable baseline of access, the reality is that it does not result in truly usable and enjoyable environments.

This accessibility legislation uses a precise, narrow legal definition of what it means for an environment to be considered accessible and is based on anthropometric research and metrics initially conducted in the mid-20th century. As designers creating spaces for people under these guidelines, we can fall short of our ethical obligations to design with empathy, compassion, and awareness of how unconscious bias and/or ableism—the limitations of our personal experience—may negatively impact our designs.

In the design of homes, it is especially important to provide environments that support residents to carry out their daily needs with dignity and joy. Even new homes that comply with minimum requirements may not provide a level of access that truly acknowledges residents’ right to live full lives in their homes. For example, in ADA-compliant homes with more than one bathroom, only one fully accessible bathroom is required. In the other bathrooms, designers often fail to provide space for a wheelchair to enter the room and turn around. For privately funded homes that are only subject to the less restrictive Fair Housing Act, a wheelchair turning space in bathrooms is not even required. Imagine designing a custom home that did not allow your client to physically enter every room!

All aspects of the built environment—from stair height and door width to the design of doorknobs and handles— have evolved over time to accommodate a specific range of human sizes and abilities. As designers, we make conscious decisions about these and other items in all of our work that determine who we include and who we exclude.

Even communities that provide a high level of accessibility to individual homes can still contribute to the segregation and exclusion of individuals with disabilities. If all of the required accessible units and common spaces are on the ground floor, the ADA does not require an elevator to allow access to the upper stories of an apartment building. This excludes residents who can’t climb stairs from enjoying equal opportunities for relationships with their neighbors and community. It also means that guests with limited mobility may be unable to visit family and friends living in upper level units.

The concept of universal design, coined by architect and accessibility advocate Ronald L Mace in the 1970s, seeks to end segregation based on disability, and encourages environments that exceed the minimum requirements of the ADA and incorporate enhanced accessibility features as a core component of their design philosophy. Universal design promotes seven broad principles that designers should follow to create environments that allow for equity, flexibility, simplicity, and ease of use for people with a broad range of abilities.

The term “inclusive design” is often—I believe inaccurately— used interchangeably with “‘universal design.” As an affordable housing architect serving residents who have often experienced systemic injustice and trauma, I see inclusive design as a tool to integrate design for disability as a core component of an ethical commitment to justice, equity, diversity and inclusion. Inclusive design includes a critical shift from a prescriptive approach to a consensus-based approach, valuing and centering the voices of those most affected by the work. It benefits not only individuals with a wide range of abilities, but also extends those benefits to everyone, including people of different ages, family status, race/ethnicity, and socioeconomic backgrounds. Inclusive design incorporates concerns beyond physical access, recognizing the need for environments that are not only accessible, but also welcoming, dignified, and reflective of occupants’ identities and needs.

Through the inclusive design process, we invite and lift up the voices of people of all different abilities and perspectives, whose experiences and expertise are most relevant to those our buildings will ultimately serve. My favorite tool in this approach is the Inclusive Design Focus Group, a structured interaction following guidelines created by The Kelsey, a non-profit disability advocacy organization based in San Francisco. These simple but powerful workshops invite project-specific participants, such as local service and community organizations and neighbors—including individuals with diverse abilities—to an open-ended discussion of priorities and considerations that they believe are most important to a successful, inclusive community. Each workshop I’ve participated in has been a rewarding experience that successfully identified considerations specific to the project at hand, and also helped me become a better, more responsive designer moving forward on future projects.

The beauty of adopting inclusive design practices is the opportunity to learn something new with each conversation. It’s impossible to simply write a checklist of building features that can be incorporated to complete an inclusive design, you have to engage with the specifics of your project. That said, I can share some illustrative examples of what I have learned through this practice. The ADA requires a certain number of parking spaces to be accessible and for a certain percentage of those to be a wider van-accessible stall that allows wheelchair accessible vehicles to load and unload. Unfortunately, there is no special designation for vans that reserves the larger spaces for folks who need them. People who need to unload a wheelchair may be completely unable to access a facility if a van-accessible parking space is unavailable. These spaces are only 4 feet wider than a standard accessible stall, so I now recommend finding the space to make more stalls van-accessible whenever possible. Also, many individuals with disabilities use paratransit services, which need a temporary loading area to park while the driver collects passengers and assists them in loading. These vehicles may need to pick up more than one client, so providing a comfortable, safe waiting area with a bench near the loading zone is helpful while passengers wait. Accessibility regulations prioritize basic facility access for people with mobility, hearing, and vision impairments, which is, of course, critically important. However, the spectrum of ability is much more diverse and intersectional than what is reflected in these codes. Features that people might not associate with disability access can actually provide benefits to everyone, including people with diverse abilities. For example, countertops and floors that are easy to clean—without gaps or textures— make life a great deal easier for a wide range of people. They are great for families with pets or children; people caring for service and emotional support animals; people with increased personal hygiene or toileting needs; and neurodiverse individuals who benefit psychologically from an environment that is both easy to clean and that appears clean and orderly. As another example, intuitive and clear space planning and signage designed to support blind and low-vision users also makes it easier for language learners and neurodiverse guests to navigate in the environment.

As an architect working for a firm that designs hundreds of homes per year, my goal is to advocate for inclusive design practices in all our work. David Baker Architects has joined The Kelsey as a Committed Firm dedicated to promoting inclusive design for housing. We are currently undertaking several pilot projects utilizing The Kelsey’s new Housing Design Standards for Accessibility and Inclusion, developed through extensive work with a stakeholder advisory group. I encourage all designers working on housing, and anyone interested in learning more about inclusive design, to visit thekelsey.org for more information and resources.

Design for Everyone: Where to Begin?

By Jennifer C. Schmidt

We, as architects and designers, have the power to influence the public experience of the built environment. As professionals licensed by our jurisdictions with the aim of maintaining health, safety, and welfare, it is our duty to create spaces that everyone can access and enjoy. Accessible design is an ancestor of the current trend for wellness design and should be the foundation of every code-compliant space or building. The Americans with Disabilities Act has made significant contributions to mainstream design, but the regulations are the minimum, more can and should be done. Through our work, architects should reinforce the importance of accessible design as a holistic process, from the way we communicate with clients and the public to developing design ideas at all project stages and formal review of the construction documents, not just mandated code requirements integrated into the final building design. Prioritizing the incorporation of accessible design throughout the entire design process results in more equitable placemaking and supports the basic position that people with disabilities belong in every facet of modern society.

According to the World Health Organization, 1.3 billion people, or 1 in 6 worldwide, experience significant disability. The U.S. Centers for Disease Control reports that 1 in 4 adults, or 61 million Americans, have a disability that impacts major life activities. Whether congenital or through injury or aging, or as a caretaker, most people will experience living with a disability or assisting a loved one with a disability as they navigate the world. Despite being one of the larger minority groups, acceptance and accommodations often lack progress. Before Congress passed the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) in 1990, access to the built environment was not guaranteed or expected and was regulated by a patchwork of sparse laws and special one-offs as needed. As a result, to this day, many spaces are not accessible, and the work of confirming access is placed squarely on the disabled person as they maneuver the world and demand equal access.

Most states and jurisdictions have enshrined the ADA regulations into their own local codes, while others have their own unique regulations. Enforcement of accessibility codes can range from local plan reviewers to civil litigation. Where we practice, there is also compliance in overlapping scenarios covered through the Massachusetts Architectural Access Board (MAAB) regulations chapter 521 CMR. In Massachusetts, architects and designers should have a working knowledge of both, as they are complementary but not identical.

But who are the accessibility codes really for, and do they make the built environment equitable for everyone?

Accessibility codes have been a tremendous boon to provide access for many who had no previous legal recourse. Over the course of the twentieth century, acceptance of people with disabilities has dramatically transformed, in no small part due to the improved access and integration with society that the ADA supports. The ongoing development of access in the United States and other countries provides rights hard won, but there is room for improvement. Most accessibility code language focuses on people with physical disabilities, specific to wheelchair users with upper body strength or the wherewithal to afford a powered chair; and to a lesser extent, people with vision impairment. There is opportunity to go above and beyond the ADA regulations, and it is our responsibility as architects to make life better for the 26% of Americans with disabilities.

The ADA regulation language focuses on two groups listed above, however, the full legislation defines people with disabilities to include cancer patients, people with diabetes, asthma, PTSD, autism, cerebral palsy, food allergies, migraines, chronic pain disorders, deafness or hearing loss, low vision to blindness, epilepsy, mobility disabilities that required use of walker or cane, intellectual disabilities, major depressive disorders, and traumatic brain injury.

To assume that the built environment cannot respond to or support people with the preceding list of disabilities is tremendously limiting of a profession that thrives on creativity and problem solving in three dimensions. Merely meeting the letter of the current accessibility building codes does not equal making the lived experience of disabled populations comparable to a non-disabled person: a lot of people are left behind and left out. I challenge my colleagues, nationwide and globally, to go above and beyond, ask questions, and educate themselves.

How do accessible design features impact all our lives everyday?

Many everyday building elements are greatly influenced by the ADA regulations, and people born in the later decades of the 20th century and onward are used to seeing them in contemporary spaces without realizing they are important tools for access.

• Intuitive door hardware – following the passage of the ADA, round twist doorknobs are no longer allowed in public spaces. The lever-style hardware and standard force required to open is ubiquitous now, the experience of opening a door has become intuitive.

• Standardization of handrails on stairs and ramps minimize injury for everyone while providing a lifeline for people with extra mobility or balance needs.

• Increased elevator requirements – people in wheelchairs, caregivers, people who push children in strollers all benefit from increased integration into more spaces with the proliferation of required elevators.

• The single user accessible restroom, champion of multipopulation accommodation, is not just for people who use wheelchairs, but also great for people who need to change a diaper or their clothes, empty a colostomy bag, privacy to give insulin shots or do ritual washing for religious practice, for those experiencing gastric distress, and also a refuge for someone excluded by gendered restrooms.

Where does the code fail us?

People with disabilities did not ask for a default building standard that leaves them out, and they deserve to fully participate in society. While lengthy, building codes can only passively respond to accessibility needs. In many cases, policy needs to catch up as well. When we talk about the additional burden placed upon people with a disability, including but not limited to:

• Being forced to share sensitive medical information with coworkers/supervisors/ strangers, to gain access, essentially having to educate everyone you encounter on your limits and abilities.

• Not given consideration for higher paying full-time employment due to stereotypes or fear of needing to take additional medical leave.

• Acquiring affordable personal or medical assistance, custom mobility devices not covered by insurance, equipment needed to stay alive.

• Needing to research/call ahead to verify if locations are fully accessible or not, having to locate unclear accessible routes, waiting for use of occupied accessible spaces/ facilities when they make up only a small percentage of options.

While the Americans with Disabilities Act was groundbreaking in the standardization of accessibility standards in the building code, it can be slow to update and, in some cases, entirely silent on some notable populations. There can be a mindset among some architects and designers that accessibility code elements are an extra when they should be baseline. The architect is not an ally to the disability community when some code loopholes are exploited, two examples are listed below.

• The ADA allows for separate solutions. Grand main building entries up a flight of monumental stairs were a hallmark of American civic architecture of the 19th and 20th centuries. If you are unable to climb stairs, you may find yourself having to circle the building until you locate a side or back entry, which is hopefully clearly labeled and unlocked, to gain entry via ramp or lift. An accessible route that is not intuitively located may meet the letter of the code, but the experience is not equitable. When designers accept a longer path, a secondary, circuitous “accessible route,” people with disabilities have been othered by architecture.

• In some cases, lack of access is allowed under the ADA. Some spaces are grandfathered in, or allowed to be exempt from certain requirements. In some jurisdictions, multilevel residential buildings do not have to provide elevators under certain conditions. However, many people do not plan on becoming disabled and will find themselves needing improved access. Best practices for integrating an accessibilitypositive mindset throughout the design process

• Educate yourself on politically correct terminology surrounding disability. Respect the terms used by a person with disabilities if they feel comfortable self-identifying. Examples of outdated terms include “handicapped” or “wheelchair bound,” aim for “person with disabilities,” and “person who uses a wheelchair.”

• Consider the accessibility of all design collateral produced during the design process. At completion of construction, the building should be accessible but in the course of your work, aim for inclusivity with every document, presentation, and email along the way.

• View the ADA, and in Massachusetts, MAAB CMR 521, as the code-minimum lowest bar of accessible design.

• Engage with people with disabilities in design meetings and throughout the design process where appropriate.

• If you are on the other end of the AIA contract as a property owner or developer, seek to hire architects who are committed to championing accessibility.

• Projects should be reviewed at all major milestones in project delivery for appropriate accessibility benchmarks. Within your firm, formalize an accessibility-specific QA/QC checklist parallel to your regular reviews. Accessibility code should be the baseline, not an afterthought.

• Building codes, including the full ADA language with graphic diagrams, are available on the internet. Everyone who works in design should prioritize developing a working knowledge. I encourage younger architects that memorizing door clearance, handrail extension, or tactile braille signage standards should be a strong part of your personal brand.

• If you are in a position to mentor younger people in the architectural profession, be the model of inclusion and equity; and maintain an actively positive attitude about the ADA. Design professionals inhabit a position of authority, we have a lot of power to shape the space that many thousands will occupy over decades. Use that privilege for good.

While the Americans with Disabilities Act was groundbreaking at its inception, architects should challenge and surpass the basic level of regulations. The accessible design regulations should cover a wider range of needs and should be enforced with fewer exemptions. Prioritizing the incorporation of accessible design throughout the entire design process results in more equitable placemaking and supports the basic position that people with disabilities belong in every facet of modern society. Architects and designers should be assertive supporters of wider accessible design, and advocate for the disability community in all of their work.

Inclusive Design & The Pursuit of Intimacy: Finding Connection in the Modern World

By: Aidan Borer and Risham Nadeem

Intimacy – what is it and why is love so hard to find?

As customer researchers, we often talk about universal human needs. Intimacy— romantic intimacy—in particular, is one enduring human need that we are programmed to fulfill. We’re hardwired to seek companionship, and the way we pursue it is a microcosm for all interpersonal relationships. But just because it’s enduring doesn’t mean it’s unchanging.

With people staying single longer, hook-up culture, a growing subculture around non-monogamy entering the mainstream, and the rise of mobile technologies in facilitating connection, it’s clear the way we engage with intimacy is evolving. Intimacy is also incredibly personal. In the interviews that informed this work, we heard a wide range of definitions. To some, intimacy is a connection made for a night, a week, or a month. To others, the search for intimacy is for life-long companionship. For some, intimacy = sex. For others, it’s the emotional connection that makes it worthwhile.

The pursuit of intimacy under capitalism has led to the creation of multibillion dollar industries; romance publishing, romcom television and film production, the wedding industrial complex, matchmaking and dating services, sexual wellness, and more. Historically, these are industries that have prioritized the needs of white, cisgender, straight, middle class, suburban, and vanilla users. The needs, desires, and purchasing power of people who fall outside of this “norm” have been ignored. In 2023, we conducted ten interviews with a wider range of users. Men and women of color, queer and non-binary people, religious and bi-cultural folks; people whose lived experience doesn’t neatly fit into this paradigm.

Our initial hypothesis was that marginalized peoples’ experiences in the pursuit of intimacy—specifically engaging with dating apps—comes with more complex challenges, and we assumed those challenges would be the focus of our writing. However, through our conversations, this focus shifted. Instead, we’re going to use this space to celebrate “non-normative” dating practices—learnings from kinky, queer, Black and Brown, disabled, and bi-cultural daters. In doing so, we hope to shine a light on some of the ways they’re finding love (or lust) on their own terms.

It’s an uncomfortable truth that the design industry does not reflect the populations who experience the world we shape every day. While we must work to diversify our field, shaping a better future can’t wait. As such, it’s even more critical to realize when we are not designing for ourselves, and to find ways to empathize with all of our users. Empathy is one of the most powerful tools in a designer’s arsenal because it enables us to see the world through the eyes of those with a different lived experience than us. We want you—regardless of your own identity—to empathize with the folks whose stories we have collected and reflect on what mainstream dating might be like if we borrowed from their practices.

Celebrating the weird and wonderful; begging, borrowing and stealing from the fringes.

Through these conversations, we took away several “hacks” that marginalized people are applying to make dating a more joyful experience. We encourage you to reflect on what you could learn from them.

Some striking learnings came from practitioners of kink. One interviewee, Pascale, talked about getting into kink after divorce in their forties. They pointed out that even the most casual of kinky hookups require a level of respect, enthusiastically expressed consent, and open communication. When you have all three, those interactions are more comfortable because everyone knows what to expect and how to stop or de-escalate play if they choose to. What might Tinder look like if casual trysts were negotiated the way they are in kinky spaces? Imagine how much better sex we’d have if we could leave shame at the door?

“Community” can mean everything and nothing, but to queer people, community means the blurring of platonic and erotic, where there’s a freedom to define the interaction in a number of ways —as long as everyone’s having a good time. You might meet someone on Grindr, fuck, and then become friends. Or you might date as a networking opportunity. Mina, a 35-yearold bisexual woman, said “My straight single friends were envious of the fun I had. If it wasn’t a romantic match, there was a sense of friendship or camaraderie.” This is in complete opposition to the old joke that men and women can’t be friends because sexual attraction gets in the way. Clearly, queer people are navigating those attractions in much more nuanced ways.

Let’s consider more traditional practices. We spoke to bicultural and religious people, who talked about their learnings on communication. Leaving societal expectations at the door, they’re happier being direct about what they’re looking for. Alice doesn’t want to have sex outside of marriage, so while she might not disclose that on her profile, she does address it early on. She and Caitlin—a 30-year-old East Asian woman, who is straight and Christian—both agreed that religious compatibility was important to them, and communicated so early. Laila, engaged to a man her parents introduced her to via a modern arranged marriage, recognizes that “it might sound crazy” to get families involved within a couple of months, with a view to move towards marriage, but “I didn’t want to ‘chill’ for a couple of years. I wanted to do things in line with my beliefs and boundaries.” What might dating look like if we could signal our intentions without fear of judgment? How much easier might it be if we could involve trusted friends and family in our search for a partner?

Finally, we spoke to two romance novelists, Nisha Sharma and Hannah Bonam- Young, who told us that romance has always been a genre that champions marginalized voices. First, a space for stories about women, written by women, it’s now becoming one of the most diverse genres, reflecting its audience. Hannah, a disabled author whose book Out On A Limb features two disabled main characters, said, “I would have killed to have this book when I was 20 years old and trying to figure out love and sex and intimacy, and I think the more people are able to write from their own perspective, it opens up empathy from others into their experience and helps elevate everyone.” She goes on to say, “I’m not writing books for disabled people. I’m writing books for romance fans and hoping they pick up on experiences that I have had. My characters are disabled, but it’s just one part of who they are.” Hannah had low expectations for how the book would perform, but it’s already outsold older titles, and it’s getting rave reviews. There is much we can learn about empathy from romance publishing. What would “mainstream” dating experiences look like if they were designed empathy-first?

Rebranding the Revolution

As designers, we pride ourselves on crafting experiences that are intuitive, engaging, and meaningful. Yet, in the realm of online dating—a space where human emotions, aspirations, and vulnerabilities intertwine —we find ourselves at a crossroads. Does our design genuinely encompass the diverse spectrum of humanity, or have we inadvertently perpetuated the societal biases we sought to overcome due to the inherent profit motives of these platforms? And where does responsibility lie to make it better—on the brands who power these platforms, or the individuals who navigate them?

In the words of one interviewee, “The problem isn’t the platform. It’s men.” And yet, that perspective cannot absolve platforms and those who design them from an inherent responsibility to be good stewards of the experience they create. Pascale, a former architect, said, “If I designed a building that excluded people or created a space that is unsafe, I would bear legal responsibility for that. Why isn’t the same level of rigor applied to the designers of these kinds of virtual spaces?”

More so, it’s imperative to understand that the issues our interviewees surfaced— fetishization, erasure, racialized “preferences”— aren’t accidental oversights that can be ignored. They’re emblematic of deeper systemic biases that we, as designers, may unconsciously perpetuate. If our algorithms can predict potential matches based on intricate preferences, surely, we can rise to the challenge of fostering genuine inclusivity.

In an age where design is as much about ethics as aesthetics we must recognize and address the silent barriers – for instance, filters. They seem innocuous, perhaps even empowering. Want a partner of a specific height, body type, or ethnicity? Filter away! But what begins as personal preference soon morphs into societal prejudice. A ‘preference’ against dating certain ethnicities, for example, is racial bias repackaged. Should our designs, then, facilitate this?

To create a digital dating landscape devoid of harmful filters that accentuate body shaming or racial biases, we need to reassess the algorithms. The code that predicts potential matches can be recalibrated to challenge, rather than reaffirm, entrenched biases. What if the algorithm occasionally nudged a user towards a profile outside their expressed ‘preferences’, gently broadening their horizons?

It’s well known that designing for “extreme” users has resulted in some of the most successful designs—look no further than the OXO GoodGrip, designed for users with severe arthritis. Similarly, if we were to design around the safety of transgender women of color, the most frequent targets of violence, all of us would be safer.

A confluence of responsibility and a call to action

Design isn’t neutral. It’s a powerful mediator of values, ethics, and aesthetics. Designers must recognize that this power bears responsibility. We’ve already seen this in the unintended consequences and psychological impact of Tinder’s landmark swiping feature, which has now been incorporated into most popular dating apps. When we made an endless pool of headshots available to daters, we dehumanized real people— disproportionately, marginalized people. In the domain of dating apps, where emotions run deep, design failures aren’t mere inconveniences. They are affirmations of exclusion.

As designers, we are in a unique position to inspire and cultivate a mindset shift. As we craft products, we also sculpt behavior and perceptions. Let’s remember that at the heart of every interaction lies a human being, seeking connection and validation, and love. With dating apps, we’re not just shaping an interface. We’re shaping human connections, perceptions, and, indeed, society’s fabric. By weaving inclusivity and empathy into our work, we make a potent statement: Every individual, irrespective of their identity, deserves genuine connection, dignity, and love.

Inclusive Design + Empathy: A Roundtable Discussion

Moderator: Emma Stone In Conversation Josephine Holmboe and Anne Petersen

Emma Stone:

To start off our conversation today, I want to clarify some terminology and definitions and really understand what we intend to talk about before we discuss the why and the how. Anne, I’m going to start with you. To help frame up the conversation, I want to hear from your point of view what the difference is between inclusive design, accessible design. What are we really talking about and how do these differentiate or differ from other terms and types of design that we often hear in tandem? So whether it be human-centered design or design thinking or DI at large, would love for you to kick it off.

Anne Petersen:

Absolutely. Let me take a step back and say these definitions often vary between people. Even in the industry there’s some variance on how people interpret them, but to me anyway, accessible design is a subset of inclusive design. We need both. We need to be inclusive by being accessible. You’ll also hear the term universal design, and that’s a very one size fits all approach. One solution will solve everything which I think is probably more often found in city planning or physical product design.

I am unconvinced this works as universally as we’d want, especially in digital contexts because something that might work well for one particular set of challenges may not work well for another particular set of challenges, but we can also find cases where one solution will apply to another. Things like captions, which I’m literally using right now. Captions, for example, are both an example of inclusive design and accessible design. I do not need them because I can’t hear, but they help me because of my particular neurodivergence. They help me follow along.

You can find lots of examples of this from curb cuts to many, many other cases, like other cases in which captions might be useful, might be like if you want to turn the sound off on a subway so that not everybody around you can hear something if you don’t have headphones with you. If you’re trying to soothe a crying child and don’t want extra noise. There are so many examples where something that benefits one set of folks will also benefit other sets of folks, but sometimes there are clashes. Again, you have to consider all of the cases to be as inclusive as you can.

Emma Stone:

Exactly. Thank you. Josephine, I was wondering if you could provide some examples at an organizational level. Do you have any specific examples of accessible or inaccessible design?

Josephine Holmboe:

Digitally in my world, we have a mandate to make sure all of our products are accessible for hearing impaired and vision impaired folks. As a designer on those products, you just immediately make sure a lot of things are implemented. This needs to be reader accessibility, this needs to be tactile, there needs to be some sort of feedback if someone is interacting with our app on a mobile device. We also do a lot of testing. Making sure that we have advisory groups made up of our customers who do have some of these disabilities. We’re making sure that they are continuously getting access to new features and being able to test them and give us feedback so we can learn and continually improve on how we implement our digital products and services.

Emma Stone:

Why do we care about accessible design? What value does it serve consumers, both those who do or do not identify as disabled? It’s probably more obvious for those that are disabled, but for those that are not, and I think Anne, you touched on this a bit with universal design, but then also designers, why do we care? As leaders and then policy makers as we start to talk about policy as well. I’ll let either one start. Who wants to take this first?

Josephine Holmboe:

It’s a big one. I think the word that you used was equitable. A reason we should care is that as designers, we are providing solutions for folks, for humans. When you narrow your mindset, when you are tasked with designing a product, a service, a digital experience, I always like to say you’re not the user. You might be one user, but you aren’t the all-inclusive user. As designers, I think we have a responsibility to have an understanding of who we’re designing for. It might be a more narrow audience, it might be a universal audience, but really getting to know who that is. 

I became a designer so I could help people and only worked on projects that were actually helping people in some form or function. I think to be able to care or why we should care is, it sounds really trite, but it makes everything better. I think the seed of where we can all start caring more is just straightforward empathy, making sure that whatever we’re doing, we’ve considered not what we’re making, but who we’re making it for.

Emma Stone:

Anne, I’m curious to get your thoughts on the sort of awareness around and the importance of education, whether that be within your organization, or more broadly. How do we raise awareness and how do we convince leaders to think and design in this way?

Anne Petersen:

That is also a big question. Also I kind of want to step back a second just to say that we are designing for humans, but we are also designing for the future. In terms of convincing leaders, I would say that I have found that the education piece is an important one, and I’ve heard this over and over and I’ve found it to be true, that leaders and policymakers and developers and those in charge of programs, all of them tend to respond well to really experiencing people who are having trouble with the current state of things. Videos are powerful even if it’s just someone’s voice or alternately quotes or a transcript, but the closer they can experience it, the more effective it is and the more it will hopefully provoke a sense of empathy if they hadn’t had one to that point. Hearing about or experiencing someone else’s frustration is really impactful and makes you realize how difficult it can be for people and for that matter.

Emma Stone:

Thinking about the role of policy, Anne, what types of guidelines exist today when it comes to standardizing accessible and inclusive design practices? And then, do you find the current state to be effective where you’ve seen them implemented? I’d love to hear some of your thoughts on that.

Anne Petersen:

Yeah, absolutely. There’s Section 508, which is part of the American federal requirement that information and communication technology be accessible to those with disabilities. Those are kind of the basics. Many other guidelines exist throughout government at federal, state, local levels. Another set of federal guidelines was just published a few weeks ago entitled, Delivering a Digital-First Public Experience, which for policy heads is M-23-22. That includes a hundred plus different actions for federal agencies, intended to improve the public’s experience with government online over the next 10 years. 

Policy guidelines and standards,unfortunately, often aren’t enough on their own to motivate people in teams to action. You can make something technically correct but the application can be less effective.

To cope with that, I would say, that showing the why, providing the tools, making it as easy as possible for the implementers to apply to their particular use case because there are many of them. Especially when you are standardizing across a wide variety of things, those are key to getting things more mature as a practice in terms of accessibility and inclusivity.

Emma Stone:

Josephine, do you have anything to add with regard to the role of policy standards? This could be along the lines of what else needs to be done to make these types of standards and policies and tools more widely adopted, more effective, or even just an example of something you’ve seen in your own organization that’s worked or didn’t work so well with regard to implementing this approach and embracing this mindset as well.

Josephine Holmboe:

I can only speak from my experience designing digital products. Fortunately there’s the W3C, the Worldwide Web Consortium, they’ve been around a long time. They develop the standards and guidelines to help everyone build, web-based on the principles of accessibility. Whether companies that develop digital products adhere to them or not does not get enforced. As I said earlier, it’s a mandate for my company. We adhere to them. But as Anne was talking, I was also thinking it’s a layered complex system for anything, getting anything done. What I think is really important and having this conversation is to help designers understand that it does start with them. If their responsibility is to provide products, experiences, services, to be more curious about how to help people and to understand what they can do or can’t do.

Emma Stone:

In this space, what are some of the greatest challenges? I think we’ve started to touch on them, but to get more explicit on what are the limitations when it comes to standardizing and relying too heavily on policy to make change. Because again, a mandate, an incentive, a regulation can only go so far. I want to hear from both of you what challenges you’ve seen and how that translates into an opportunity.

Josephine Holmboe:

Because I work on emerging technologies, I see challenges going into the future. We’re talking about AI, we’re talking about VR, we’re talking about a whole slew of technologies. We really haven’t had an opportunity to understand how to make those more inclusive. VR, virtual reality for one, you could put on a headset and experience something in the virtual reality space that is regardless of what your physical disabilities might be, you can walk around. In some ways that helps people with disabilities experience something they might not in real life, but at the same time, people who are vision impaired can’t access that. VR is not inclusive. I think that’s going to be the challenge of how to interpret some of those technologies for a wide variety of individuals. That’s the one that comes to mind first for me.

Anne Petersen:

Yeah, there’s a federal agency that’s doing testing on facial recognition, which they use for one of their products and that they have already noted that has difficulty recognizing people of various races. And so they’re testing to find out at what point does the technology advance so much that we can implement this. Some folks who have had a stroke have facial changes, where part of their face does not look the way it used to, so it might not match their license. There are many, many examples in which the technologies that we’re implementing that are fairly new might not work for everyone.

I would also say that kind of referring back to what I mentioned, standards are very much a least common denominator. They’re the minimum that you have to do and if they’re applied across a large organization or set of organizations or are a required standard across the board, that often can make it tougher for teams to apply to their particular use case or figure out how it applies to their particular use case. The way I’ve worked with this in the past is introducing things like a maturity model and providing those toolkits. I mentioned that teams can see how they can start with the minimum, but continue to grow in doing the right thing by adopting the mindset, not just the policy, not just the standard and thus doing better by the people who need the service and increasingly so over time.

Josephine Holmboe:

I love that Anne, because it isn’t a one and done, we should never think one and done because technology is moving so quickly and there’s so much we don’t know yet. The constant iteration, learning, pivoting, then making sure we’re attending to everybody as they evolve, as those technologies evolve. I think that’s a really important point.

Emma Stone:

Great. I think one of the things you said, Anne, as well,  just reminded me to step back and acknowledge that when we’re talking about disability too, specifically, there’s quite a range of disabilities. I think that’s really important to note when we’re discussing the different needs and maybe there’s different shortcomings of technology. We have physical disabilities, cognitive disabilities, sensory disabilities. Some folks identify as having a disability if they have a chronic illness. Just to recognize that we talked about disability at large, but there’s such a spectrum range, which adds to the challenge of thinking about what makes a product accessible when you have to adhere to policy that improves accessibility regardless of the disability. Again, challenge breeds creativity and design. I think these constraints and these factors can make us all the better as society and as designers.

Before talking a little more about the future, I want to make sure we don’t lose anything or nothing is lost in conversation. For either of you, is there anything that we didn’t really cover in this conversation so far that you think is really important to bring up? And it could be more broadly what typically gets lost in the conversation when folks are talking about inclusive and accessible design?

I would love to hear from each of you one piece of advice or one recommendation. I’ll give you two options. Either one piece of advice that you would give to young designers or young policymakers based on your experience. Or one tangible action item, big or small, that can really help move the needle in this space that is directed at the audience here today. 

Josephine Holmboe:

I’ll go first. I have spent the last 10 years with interns and co-ops within our company. I see a lot of young designers. In the 10 years or more that I go out and I interview and I see their portfolios and I talk to them, I am so absolutely amazed and impressed and hopeful about the work I see them doing. What I’m seeing now coming out of schools are more approaches around real world problems. They’re not just trying to design widgets and apps and gamify everything. They’re really starting to think about real world problems, which makes me so very hopeful.

They’ve got so much that we didn’t have when we were going through design school because of conversations like this, because of policies that have been made, because of an awareness level that exists now that didn’t exist when I went to design school. I think we need to learn from them as much as they’re learning from us and really encourage those young designers to lean into problems that are really valuable to all people. So I learn a lot from them. I would say to young designers coming out of school, just keep being curious. Being curious about everything is going to make you a much better designer and it’s going to help all your designs get out into the world in a good way.

Anne Petersen:

I actually want to answer both if I can, and I’ll start with a piece of advice. I’ve learned that we need to design for those who need it most, not necessarily those who will be using it most. The folks who will be using it most, you usually have covered, but if you can cover those who need it most everyone else will benefit. Just bottom line, I would say fancier and flashier is not always better for usability or accessibility or equity or inclusivity.

The things that we can do, one thing that we can do to move the needle, I would say, is implement things like equity pauses. Equity pauses are a practice. You can find the questions for them online. It’s a practice introduced by equityXdesign. But these questions help you disrupt your usual way of thinking and resist the sense of urgency that’s typical of business culture, tech culture, and white supremacy, and consider those and that which is not present, whether that’s people history, words, nature, or practices.

How Can We Design for Disabled Joy?

Deaf-friendly curved seating makes signing easier. (Holst Architecture)

By Holst Architecture & Hannah Silver

We all deserve to take up space and participate in our communities! Unfortunately, for many people with disabilities (at least 26% of the population), barriers in the built environment severely limit where people can go. For someone using a rolling mobility device, encountering one step in the doorway of a beautiful flower shop may mean they simply do not get to visit the store like everyone else.

The ADA Standards for Accessible Design is a federal document that sets the minimum requirements for making buildings and other shared spaces inclusive of disabled people. However, many peoples’ needs fall outside the ADA’s requirements, and older buildings often have not been updated to meet code.

In 2020, Holst Architecture’s Inclusive Design Facilitator, Hannah Silver, began a research and engagement project called Design for Disabled Joy. The goal was to learn directly from diversely disabled people about how architects and others who design buildings can go “above and beyond the ADA” to meet peoples’ access needs. Most importantly, we asked people how designers can support disabled joy.

We asked people where they loved to go and where they wished they could go to have an enjoyable time in their everyday lives. Through surveys and interviews, we uncovered lots of great design ideas and areas for improvement. We distilled our findings into 8 Ways to Design for Disabled Joy. When we design to meet disabled peoples’ needs, we also benefit people pushing strollers, kids, short people, tall people, plus size folks, and many others! But it is also important to remember that sometimes peoples’ needs can be very specific to themselves, and that is still worthy of designers’ attention. People with very specific needs in space have the most to gain from newfound accessibility.

Eight Ways to Design for Disabled Joy

1. Better (and More) Bathrooms. You never know when you’ll need a restroom! It’s easier to go out when you can expect a comfortable bathroom experience. Bathroom needs go beyond using the toilet. Look for spacious stalls, adult-sized changing tables, and thoughtfully located grab bars.

2. Equal Entry. Secondary access doesn’t feel good – let’s make sure we can all get in the front door fairly, and move through the building or space without issue. Stairs and elevators should be near each other, and ramps can replace stairs.

3. More Chairs, Everywhere. Some of us need to rest more often than others, and providing a variety of inclusive seating types goes a long way. Look for different heights and widths of chairs, with and without arms.

4. The Space Between. The way we arrange furniture can help or hinder movement and access. The ADA doesn’t cover furniture unless it’s built into the building. As you move through a space or building, think about whether two wheelchair users could comfortably pass each other in corridors.

5. Clear Navigation. There are lots of ways to make space easier to comprehend and move through, starting with accessible signage and including creative ways to add multisensory cues to a layout.

6. Balance Sensory Inputs. We all process sensory inputs differently, and some of us don’t use vision or hearing. By applying thoughtfulness to finish colors, textures, and materials, as well as sound and lighting, we can support all of our sensory needs.

7. Dynamic Design. We don’t always need the same things – so malleability and options go a long way. Providing a variety of space types supports varying needs, especially for neurodivergent folks who need retreat. Providing furniture that adjusts, or control over a room, increases agency.

8. Digital Bridge. Sometimes the preferred way to access a space is remotely. We can also make space more accessible by simply letting people know what to expect before they arrive!

Extra-wide sidewalks help Deaf people, mobility device users, and plus size folks pass each other comfortably. Audible and tactile crosswalk signals help Blind and Deaf people cross the street. (Holst Architecture)

Let’s Do a Scavenger Hunt!
What Inclusive Design Can you Find in Your Neighborhood?

Want to find out if the urban design around you supports disabled joy? Bring this checklist, a pen, and something that rolls (a stroller, bike, or even roller skates) to test for “rollable spaces.” Check off the items below as you find them!

Disabled Joy

1. Publicly available family-sized all-gender restrooms support people with complex disabilities. BONUS: adult changing table!

2. Curb cuts with truncated domes (bumps) for wheelchairs and traffic safety for low-vision / Blind folks.

3. Buildings with automatic doors and level doorways for convenient wheeled access.

4. Dog-friendly design like water bowls to support service animals.

5. Safe crosswalks with audible and tactile (vibrating) signals.

6. COVID-19 design responses for our immunocompromised friends.

7. Sensory retreat space supports people with Autism and dementia.

More Inclusive Design

8. Fat-friendly furniture like sturdy benches, chairs without arms, moveable items, and a mix of seating options.

9. Queer-friendly spaces, usually indicated with rainbows/signage.

10. A street named after a non-male person or a statue of a non- male person.

11. Art that highlights Black joy or celebrates non-European cultures.

12. Indigenous language or art to honor local stewards of the land.

13. Kid-sized/-friendly design because parents and kids go everywhere.

14. Public drinking water since not everyone has a kitchen sink.

Courtyard at One North, a Holst building project (Holst Architecture).

Want to learn more about Design for Disabled Joy and other inclusive design strategies? https://holstarc.com/news/disabled-joy

Holst Architecture team left to right: Monse Fonseca, Rae Weston, Kate Brown with Fern the cat, and Hannah Silver.