Disability Futures

Nowadays technology has advanced to the point where you can take quality photographs on even the most common devices. For those with limited function, there has never been a more accessible time to get into photography: all you need is a willingness to try, to practice, and an eye for the world.

If you’ve ever wanted to take better photos, and who hasn’t, you’ll be glad we talked with four photographers with quadriplegia — Loren Worthington, a sports photographer; Robert Andy Coombs, a portrait photographer; Kirk Williams, a drone photographer; and Kary Wright, a nature/landscape photographer — about how they do what they do.

How to Get Started

If you’re just getting started with photography, the specific gear and type of camera you use doesn’t matter a whole lot. Given the price of high-level camera equipment, it’s best to start simple and make sure that photography is more than a passing interest before you invest in thousands of dollars’ worth of gear.

States and localities across the U.S. are already experiencing profound weather shifts associated with climate change, from rising sea levels and flooding to drought and dangerously hot summers. Economists have long been warning that these changes will come with a cost. But until now, there’s been no measure of what that cost might be for individual counties.

A study published in the journal Science in June is the most extensive model available of what climate change could cost the United States, county by county. (View an interactive map at the bottom of this article). The study is the first of its kind, linking climate projections with economic effects like mortality, labor productivity, energy demand and crop yields. 

By far, the largest economic cost across the U.S. is loss of human life to heat-related injuries. Huge swaths of the South could see these kinds of deaths spike to more than 20 people out of every 100,000. In addition, energy costs will increase as people use air conditioning more often, labor productivity will suffer for those who work outdoors, crop yields will decrease and rising seas will swallow up valuable coastal properties. 

The findings are striking for their specificity and their prediction of growing inequality spurred by climate change.

According to the study, the American South and lower Midwest will bear the brunt of the economic costs associated with climate change through the end of the century. 

The Lolo Peak forest fire has raged across Western Montana since July 15, burning over 30,000 acres very close to where I live. Over 1,150 homes have been evacuated with thousands of people looking for temporary shelter. It’s put a catastrophe at the door of our small community and the possible logistics of evacuating are truly frightening.

I admit disaster preparation isn’t high on my list of everyday priorities and as a full-time vent user, it should be. We have a generator for power outages but that isn’t enough for a disaster that forces you from your home. In a catastrophe, there are many things I’d need to survive an evacuation. These include my vents, supplies, numerous medications, nebulizers, feeding tube supplies and my wheelchair if I’m lucky. Needless to say, I don’t travel light or fast

Make a Plan Before Disaster Strikes

There really aren’t any good solutions for anybody with a disability who needs to leave their home. Not only will you be away from familiar surroundings but you’ll likely be dealing with first responders who have had zero to little training dealing with any type of disability. Can you explain to them how to move you quickly without injury?

Paul Timmons, CEO of Portlight Strategies, the only organization specializing in disaster preparation for people with disabilities, has seen it all in 16 years. He says the biggest mistake people make is assuming first responders know what they are doing or will do the right thing during evacuations.

If you can’t evacuate, Timmons says make sure you have the medicines and dependable power source you will need for medical equipment. It may force you to be honest with what your actual needs are.

The best thing you can do is make a plan before disaster strikes. Packing a bag with the necessities you will need for a week can save you a great deal of time and effort. If you can, make arrangements for where you will evacuate in a disaster and what you will do with your pets. Most shelters won’t accept pets, so you really need to think about arrangements.

Timmons suggests people form relationships with their neighborhood fire and police departments along with emergency medical providers. Discuss your needs and the equipment you have and how it operates. This may pay dividends if you need to be evacuated. Another thing Timmons says is, don’t believe it when somebody says everything is under control until you can see for yourself.

If you have issues or find a shelter to be inaccessible, Timmons urges you to call Portlight at 843/817-2651.

See a need, fill a need. It's always a great way to start a business - and that's exactly what Schlepper founder Jackson Partrich did. He founded Schleppers, a transportation service for senior citizens.

His service not only provides the elderly with private transportation, but also companionship along the ride. 

Many seniors are afraid of taking an Uber or don't know how to use the technology so this service is like having a grandson taking the customer around and keeping the person company. He takes seniors to doctor's appointments, on errands such as the beauty shop, the mall or the movies.

"It's all about having seniors feel comfortable in the car," he says. "We can build bonds and build relationships and they feel comfortable with me and I feel comfortable with them. You're not just driving them to a destination, you're engaging with them and getting to know them."

He says he talks about sports, animals and whatever else with his clients. He enjoys their conversations because both sides gain perspective and are constantly learning from one another.

Follow the steps below to access the most recent county level disability estimates from the American Community Survey (ACS). The resulting table will include: population estimates and margins of error, disability rates, and rural-urban classification. You can also Download the full dataset for all counties in all states (zip format).

Data sources: The data provided in this lookup is from the 2011-2015 5 year ACS estimates (Table S1810), and the 2015 OMB Metropolitan-Micropolitan Statistical Areas delineation files.

This month’s cover story is about the out-of-the-box practice of commemorating the onset of paralysis — 10 stories of readers who celebrate the day that changed their lives forever. It has helped me appreciate, once again, the power that our individual stories hold.

But soon after I finished writing the stories, I realized my own date, July 11, was upon me, and I had no plan for celebrating the 52nd anniversary of my plane crash.

In my early post-injury days, I would party, even if alone, a kind of private rebirth day, feeling fortunate to be alive. Later I would invite friends, who were always happy to have an excuse to celebrate anything. In time, the celebrations became a symbolic ritual involving launching and crashing various flying objects — paper airplanes; rubber-band propelled models; larger, more aerodynamic hand-thrown replicas.

This year, due to a time crunch, it would have to be paper airplanes again. At the last moment I invited my daughter, son-in-law and two grandsons to join my wife and me on the deck for guacamole and chips, margaritas, and barbecued burgers. But first I had some deck repairs to do.

My faithful worker-friend, José — who comes each growing season from Mexico to our farm in Oregon to live and help — 28 years and counting — assisted me with the deck repair. When we were half done, I explained to José in my best Spanish that we needed to hurry to finish for the celebration. He looked up, puzzled. “Today’s the day of my accident,” I said. He looked blank. “I’ve told you, right? About the plane crash in California? My friend, the pilot, died?”

“Noooh,” he said. “California? I thought you were in a war.”

Róisín would do all the talking. She’s the chapter leader of the support group in Brooklyn, and accustomed to the microphone. She’d wear jeans and a tunic, glasses, her hair twisted in a clip. The only odd thing, to me, would be her mouth. It would be loose, relaxed—an intentional muscle movement, perhaps a symbol of acceptance after years in the self-help community that my strained jaw wouldn’t recognize.

There are 100 people in the conference room, 100 people waiting for her to begin. Half are in their 20s, from places like Boston or New York. Some have never been farther south than Illinois. Some are from Iceland, Serbia, and beyond. All convene in a hotel on Peachtree Street in Atlanta, Georgia—the blistering peach pit of the South.

They are all connected by the way they speak.

“Welcome to Take it to the Ssssssstreets,” Róisín would say into the microphone. Everyone would clap. “Thank you for p-p-participating in one of our most p-p-p-popular workshops. I’ll give a brief explan-explan-explanation, then we’ll bbbbbreak into small groups and head outside.”

I have been dyslexic my whole life, and a historian for 20 years. Though these two experiences are fundamental to my identity, I had never paused to consider what the history of dyslexia might reveal when studied by experts until I learned about The History of Dyslexia this summer.

The History of Dyslexia, unveiled in July, is a website that aims to make the fruits of about 140 years of dyslexia research available to the public. Although the condition is likely ancient, the site explores the ways our understanding and concern about dyslexia intertwines with the history of modern literacy.

It's a joint project of an interdisciplinary group of four professors at Oxford University, who specialize in history, psychology, and education policy. So far, their project features a timeline of key events, a collection of oral interviews, and an online archive containing documents, photographs, and oral histories. Over the next few years, the researchers intend to generate a collection of primary and secondary materials that explore the science of the condition, the politics around government response to growing understanding of the condition, and the everyday experiences of people with dyslexia.

The core of the site will be a large archive of written documents and oral histories intended to support scholarly inquiry into the ways that people experienced and understood dyslexia in different historical periods. “We're interested in [dyslexia's] development in science, civil society, and policy—from its first diagnosis by physicians in the late 19th century, to its present widespread and hard fought recognition in U.K. education,” the homepage reads.