Tim Elder is a California-based civil rights attorney, founder of the TRE Legal Practice, and father of three. Active in the blindness community, he has taken on various roles with the National Federation of the Blind (NFB) and is an avid musician and reader. AFB spoke with Tim recently about the 30th anniversary of the Americans with Disabilities Act and its impact on his life. This interview was edited for brevity and clarity.
The Americans with Disabilities Act
The ADA is unlocking potential for disabled people and giving the United States permission and motivation to benefit from the contributions from the people with disabilities. Our country, because of this law, has seen so many contributions from disabled workers. In turn, we are unlocking all of this economic activity by empowering people with disabilities to spend their money in commerce. It’s a win-win situation. There is a reason why the ADA was a bipartisan bill. It was good for economics but also good for the individual.
The ADA has meant a lot to me over the years. Personally, it has been most meaningful in providing equal access to participate in the world, in a way that is not irregular or segregated. The ADA has these concepts of integrated access and doing things in a way that preserves privacy and independence. For example, being able to go down to my local polling place and vote independently and privately. And to show my 10-year-old son that this is how we engage in civic life and participate in democracy.
Professionally, I had offers early in my career to work for large corporations. I instead chose a career where I could enforce the ADA and civil rights in a way that was closer to my heart. Opening up opportunity and equal access for people has been hugely rewarding.
I have participated as both a plaintiff and as an attorney enforcing ADA rights. I took the Law School Admission Test with a human reader, notwithstanding my request to use a screen reader. I didn’t agree with the test administrator’s decision to deny me my request to use technology, but I didn’t know I had a choice because I didn’t understand the ADA or my rights. I went through law school and gained work experience in the summers and through externships, all while using a screen reader, which gave me independent access to information through assistive technology. Then I graduated and came back to this testing accommodation issue again with the bar exam, wanting to take it with a screen reader and again being told no. This made no sense to me, because I had just completed three years of law school and work experience without using human readers.
This time, though, I had knowledge of what my rights were, and I had friends and colleagues who knew about the importance of privacy, independence, and autonomy. I, along with several others, sued the bar examiners to ensure we could take these critical tests using assistive technology. I was successful, and took the bar exam with my screen reader. Now it was under order of a federal judge, and I took the exam under armed guard due to the purported high security of the exam. Can you imagine? Taking the most important exam of your life with an off-duty police officer with a firearm looking on – no pressure, right?
It was quite the experience, but it was formative and helped me understand the importance of the ADA. It also clarified in my mind that so many people don’t stand up and enforce the rights that they have, because they don’t know those rights exist.
The ADA Generation
I’ve never thought of myself as a member of the ADA generation, but that description fits me. The ADA is a statute, but it’s also a movement. I’m part of that first generation who has seen more of their life pass within the passage of the ADA than without it. Though I recognize that there is a long history of pre-ADA advocacy that proceeds our generation, illustrated by Jacobus tenBroek’s early concept of the legal right to live in the world.
The ADA has since done much to expand tenBroek’s early concepts to the legal right to access digital information for blind people. That’s true for public websites, educational software in both K-12 and higher education, and anything involving technology. The concept of digital accessibility and the legal requirement to provide it is strong. How do we convert the strength of that legal requirement into actual compliance and equal access? That is our next challenge.
We don’t have clear-cut internet regulations, but all of the cases that deal with these issues tend to be pretty favorable towards providing equal access for the blind plaintiffs, and courts are constantly reaffirming the ADA-based concept of equal access to digital information. But legal enforcement is one tool, and not everyone is motivated by that tool. We have to think about other strategies for changing behaviors and systemic barriers.
What Comes Next
How do we change social perceptions? If you won’t do it for legal compliance, consider that people with disabilities are paying customers and want to spend money. The investment in accessibility maximizes your customer base. We’ve gotten a lot right, but there’s so much to do. People are getting access to education and getting jobs, but it’s nowhere close to full and equal. How many blind people do we have in the boardroom, in the C-Suite at Fortune 500 companies? Not many. How do we ensure we don’t become complacent with partial access and stop fighting for truly equal access?
How do we get away from this concept of reactive access – “Oh, now there’s a disabled person here, so we have to change things to help them” -- to a proactive model, where we don’t have a blind person at the corporation yet but we might someday, so let’s make sure we follow these standards for our software so when they show up, it’s already accessible and ready for them to get to work.
That is the big question for the next 30 years: How do we stay collectively organized and keep pace with where society is going?
The Next Generation
I hope the next generation understands there is nothing wrong with identifying as a blind person and embracing your disability. I didn’t understand that for a large portion of my life – there were many years of painful limitations that were unnecessary. I hope the increased visibility we’ve achieved with the ADA will inspire the younger generation to dream bigger and not self-select out of greatness or opportunity.
My first real exposure to the blindness community was through the National Federation of the Blind’s scholarship program, where you attend a national convention. I was blown away by all of the blind people I met who were happy and totally excited about living the life they wanted—they were going to law school, going into business, were parents. It changed my entire concept of what it means to be blind.
I also would say: Find the value in collective organizing. Become a part of the movement.
When you go to Starbucks, the cashier’s perception of a blind person is not going to be based on you alone, it’s going to be based on social attitudes about blindness. We have to ensure that the social perception of disability is raised as a whole—it’s only through the “all tides rising” concept that we really change the perception of blindness.
I hope the next generation won’t have to do so much fighting and can do a bit more playing. I would love it if I could work myself out of a job, and just go home and play my guitar! I have a feeling that’s not happening any time soon, but one can dream. I know AFB is committed to these same causes and doing the work that it does and living it out. We are making progress.
