A history of design that is often overlooked―until we need it
Have you ever hit the big blue button to activate automatic doors? Have you ever used an ergonomic kitchen tool? Have you ever used curb cuts to roll a stroller across an intersection? If you have, then you’ve benefited from accessible design―design for people with physical, sensory, and cognitive disabilities. These ubiquitous touchstones of modern life were once anything but. Disability advocates fought tirelessly to ensure that the needs of people with disabilities became a standard part of public design thinking. That fight took many forms worldwide, but in the United States it became a civil rights issue; activists used design to make an argument about the place of people with disabilities in public life.
In the aftermath of World War II, with injured veterans returning home and the polio epidemic reaching the Oval Office, the needs of people with disabilities came forcibly into the public eye as they never had before. The US became the first country to enact federal accessibility laws, beginning with the Architectural Barriers Act in 1968 and continuing through the landmark Americans with Disabilities Act in 1990, bringing about a wholesale rethinking of our built environment. This progression wasn’t straightforward or easy. Early legislation and design efforts were often haphazard or poorly implemented, with decidedly mixed results. Political resistance to accommodating the needs of people with disabilities was strong; so, too, was resistance among architectural and industrial designers, for whom accessible design wasn’t “real” design.
Bess Williamson provides an extraordinary look at everyday design, marrying accessibility with aesthetic, to provide an insight into a world in which we are all active participants, but often passive onlookers. Richly detailed, with stories of politics and innovation, Williamson’s Accessible America takes us through this important history, showing how American ideas of individualism and rights came to shape the material world, often with unexpected consequences.
Very much an academic book - some of the language and argument had my eyes glazing over a bit - but worth a read for the breadth of the information it covers and the social shifts it investigates. What could have been a designer-centered history of stuff made for accessibility is instead centers folks with disabilities and their agency in interacting with the material world. It makes for a pretty interesting history of activism and cultural perceptions told through the story of objects and architecture.
I was drawn to this book because of the title and intriguing front cover.
Sadly, I was not impressed with the book's usage of "disabled people" versus "people with disabilities." Granted the vernacular isn't that different at first glance, but for a book describing accessibility, I think the author should strive to make the distinction. Disabled people suggests that a person is their disability, whereas people with disabilities implores that the person comes first and their disability is secondary. Again, a seemingly small difference in phrasing, but one that I will fight for changing.
This book had heavy focus on WW2 vets and explained that it was this incident along with polio that really awoke the U.S. to the need for accessibility for all.
For me, the most interesting part was learning about how the University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign was ahead of its time with accessibility for post WW2 vets.
Thanks to #NetGalley, I had an advanced PDF to read and review. *All opinions are my own and I was not required to post a positive review. * #AccessibleAmerica #NetGalley
Accessible America A History of Disability and Design by Bess Williamson is an interesting look at the issue of accessibility as it relates to the built environment. It focuses on; the physical barriers that disabled people encounter every day, the political movements that sought to demolish these barriers; and the law that emerged as a result of their struggle. It is an informative, well written, introduction to the subject.
Accessible America is an incredibly informative history of accessibility design in the United States. Williamson's history begins around World War II and ends in modern times. I must note here that her book is largely focused on those who are either paralyzed or missing limbs. Whether this is because disability discourse discluded other disabilities or whether Williamson herself chose to only focus on this subset of disabilities is not clearly explained. That said, the history seems rather thorough. Another reviewer noted that Willamson uses "disabled people" and "people with disabilities" interchangeably. This is true; it's up for you to decide how much you champion people-first language. A note on personal taste- Accessible America is a very dry book. This is pretty much to be expected from NYU Press, but I thought I'd point it out. Overall, it's a good book, but I'd reserve it for those who have a vested interest in the subject. Those who only want to gain general knowledge may want to steer clear of this one. **** Thank you, NetGalley and NYU Press for the advanced reader copy.
This book provides a very good history on the history of disability and design primarily since World War II. While the focus is on artificial limbs, the author does delve into the evolving changes in society in regards to how we view and interact with the disabled. The book is well written and researched and makes an excellent teaching guide on the history of disability and design.
I recommend this book for anyone who has an interest in the history of the development of artificial limbs.
I received a free Kindle copy of Accessible America by Bess Williamson courtesy of Net Galley and NYU Press, the publisher. It was with the understanding that I would post a review on Net Galley, Goodreads, Amazon and my fiction book review blog. I also posted it to my Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn and Google Plus pages.
I requested this book as the description sounded interesting and it was a subject that I had not read about. This is the first book by the author that I have read.
After reading a memoir from disabled activist Keah Brown, I thought something like this would be a good follow-up. I was interested in readng up on the history of disability in design. You know those bumps at the sidewalk corners? I only found out that they were there for blind people using canes a few years ago.
So I thought this would be a good book. Unfortunately the negative reviews are correct: it's a really heavily academic text that was difficult to get through. It's also really only a history from WWII on, plus with a focus on people with missing limbs or paralysis. This is not to dismiss disabled people with those conditions but it made for a narrow scope that isn't captured in the title.
For the right individual this would definitely be a really great source book and I wouldn't be surprised to see it on a syllabus for design, disabled people, etc.
I liked it, but it focused almost entirely on wheelchair users and people with prosthetics. It barely mentioned any accommodations for people with hearing or sight impairments, or any other disabled group. Even when it talked about people paralyzed by polio, it just kept going back to ramps, ramps, ramps. If you want to read about accessible curbs for nearly two hundred pages, this is the book for you. I saw hints of interesting stories, like when it talked about Cuisinart or the idea of style vs invisibility in hearing aids, but these were just very small parts. There’s more to the history of accessibility than ramps, even if that is the easiest thing for you to research, Professor Williamson!
This book is great at covering what it covered but I wanted more (neurodiversity! DeafSpace! the opportunities are endless)! Fortunately, the author acknowledges this in her introduction. Still, though… more!
A well structured read on the co-evolution of disability rights in the U.S. and accessible design. Williamson writes with some good awareness of intersectional lens and includes many fascinating design drawings! The historical anecdotes sometimes got bogged down with too much minutiae.
Could not read. The inside of this book is just a wall of text with horrific spacing. Headache inducing. I have never before rejected a book based on terrible text and printing.
A really incredible book that is a great way to dip your toe in the world of accessibility and how it relates to design. Anyone interested in design NEEDS to read this
An accessible (ha!), interesting and overall great book.
Accessible America, as the title promises, tackles the topic of accessible design in the US: its history, its most important dimensions (industrial design, architecture, legislation, activism…), crucial events, personalities, developments etc.
The book is quite thesis-driven, but balanced, informative and pleasant nonetheless. The author shares historical facts and general info within a framework of tracking changing attitudes towards disability in the US over the decades, making a compelling argument. It is evident a wealth of research has gone into the book, and Bess Williamson is able to maintain an easy-going, even tone that only comes with mastery of the subject matter. Many facts she shares are truly fascinating, resources cited - valuable, and the illustrations are simply fantastic. I found myself not wanting the book to end. There is a lot more to be told and learned about history of disability design in the US (and elsewhere), I do hope Bess writes more about it! One thing I wish received more focus is the history of disabled people within minority populations in the US. I realize resources on disability history are scarce as is, and are borderline non-existent for minority groups, but if there anything the book could benefit from highlighting more - it is this.
Anyway, a recommended read for anyone, design professionals or not, disabled or able-bodied, American or from elsewhere.
Thanks to NetGalley for a digital ARC of this book.
Most would look at a book about the history of design in America as strictly an academic text for research or design courses. And this book is an excellent resource for both research and teaching. I am neither a researcher in disability design nor a student of industrial design. Though I am not a member of the apparent intended audience, I thoroughly enjoyed this book.
A am an American with a disability that requires that I use a wheelchair. I have benefited and continue to benefit from the history of accessibility in the United States. It may be due to my imposed passion for accessibility that this book was so impactful and meaningful to me. This book educated me about those who paved the curb-cut and reasonable sloped road that I now get to travel down. These individuals are no longer unknown to me but are people I am now thankful.
This notable work provides valuable perspective on the history and public discussion on disability. This could be an important resource for anyone working in a public-facing institution (higher ed, social service, nonprofits) as well as large or small business owners. I work in a large urban community college system, and my work as a faculty Reference and Instruction Librarian involves teaching.. Although our faculty have already had training in Universal Design, I often wonder about students' larger campus experience. This book can help form a deeper understanding of context for public spaces, and help people without disabilities think about how to put empathy into action.
The book traces the history of design for accessibility since the early 20th century—here moving from prostheses and designs that enabled people to drive cars to building/built environment design and finally back to wheelchairs and other objects (like OXO Good-Grips), now under the aegis of “universal design.” Williamson argues that a key issue has always been American individualism and bias against shared resources—was accessibility a way of enabling individual citizens to fulfill their productive potential, or was it coddling/harming others in order to benefit a minority? Appealing to the former conception helped disabled advocates and their allies, but also accepted the individualist premise. Likewise, using polio survivors and disabled war veterans as paradigmatic representatives of disabled populations allowed appeals to normative white masculinity and femininity—accessibility helped otherwise middle-class white people fulfill their appropriate roles—but didn’t challenge the normativity of those depictions. Radical interventions in the 1960s and beyond have tried to frame access as enabling individuals to choose how they want to live in the world, and to discuss inaccessibility as both literally and more-than-literally structural replication of disadvantage, but the simultaneous rise of “universal design” also made it easy for disability as a particular way of life to disappear, since designers are now supposedly designing for everyone.
“Accessible America”, despite covering what could be considered a somewhat dry subject, is both an informative and engaging look at the history of accessibility efforts in the United States for individuals with disabilities, from the time just after WWII up through the present. Today it’s easy to forget (or to perhaps to have never known) that sidewalk curbs used to not be wheelchair friendly, that parking spaces for persons with disabilities used to not exist, and that most homes and businesses were at one time highly unaccommodating to those with mobility limitations. Even as recently as the 1980’s a great many perfectly-abled people in the majority were known to gripe about the government spending money to better accommodate those with disabilities. My own grandfather used to refer to disabled parking spaces, often sitting empty in an era of unaccomodating vehicles, as a waste of a perfectly good parking space. A stroke that left him partially paralyzed changed his mind on that topic, but there are some people who even today retain his earlier cynical outlook. It was interesting to me to read of events I was otherwise unaware of, such as the years-ahead activity in the city of Berkeley to expand accessibility, as well as modern commercial products purposely incorporating more accessible design features. I was provided with an advanced reading copy of this book in exchange for an unbiased review. As someone who myself has some mobility limitations, I went into reading the book ready to call it out if anything rang false, uniformative, or poorly researched. But in the end it has no such flaws, and is a rather good, well-written, enjoyable book. Recommended.