This article was written in mid-1991 (and now updated in 2010) after accepting an invitation to participate in (and run a panel) at the 1991 Philadelphia Science Fiction Convention, or Philcon. I had already sold 9 pieces to Analog Science Fiction and Fact (the longest continuously published science fiction magazine – see http://www.analogsf.com ) and I had started to make a name for myself. But again, I forced organizers to make wheelchair accommodations so I could participate – as guest writers sit up on a podium platform. And, while I brought my own folding ramps, they had to be put out and steadied so I could get up in the key spot. Very obvious to the audience – to my delight. It’s an old piece I happened to find, but the message is still valid and I wanted to share it again. Originally it was another OpEd piece of mine in the Philadelphia Inquirer.

A Look Forward... and Up

November 15, 16 and 17th, the Philadelphia Science Fiction Convention, or Philcon, comes to the Adam's Mark Hotel again and an assorted range of beings are approaching. Included among these are a growing number of the disabled. More and more, the disabled are "coming out". Science fiction has always been a favorite because of its focus on the future. Usually a brighter, more promising future than the dreary reality many have to endure. And now, improving technology is enabling more and more individuals to attend the annual gatherings that are held all over the world, including here in Philadelphia, where pro and fan can mingle and, for a few short days, leave mundane reality behind.

I am fortunate to be among them, and even more fortunate to be in the former category. But a few short decades ago, I would have been confined to a nursing home, or at the very least, dependent on a full-time attendant to help me through my daily living routines. I have Multiple Sclerosis and I am paralyzed from the waist down, partially incontinent, strongly spastic and I fatigue easily. But, some creative architecture and existing adaptive technology in the forms of medication, adhesive external catheters, powered and manual wheelchairs and an adapted van have given me independence. Because of these aids, I am able to live alone and take care of myself (now I need attendant care help for some things) while handling a full-time job (alas, after 27 years in he same job [23 in a wheelchair] I was forced out on Social Security Disability as my accessible employer closed and I couldn’t find another job). I also have a freelance writing career -- the latter of which is something I never would have considered before the age of computers. In addition, I handled (for five years) a volunteer post as a steering committee member of the West Chester Borough Commission on Disability.

And now, as I did in Chicago over Labor Day weekend at the World Science Fiction Convention, I am going to run a panel at Philcon on adaptive technology. It will be a chance to educate people a little about some of what is available out there. It is a fascinating topic because there now exists adaptive technology that allows people with all manner of disabilities to communicate with the world.

For the blind, talking and Braille-printing computers allow participation in the information revolution. TTD's, or teletype devices, allow the deaf to communicate and now, improved voice recognition systems such as Dragon Dictate, Naturally Speaking allow easy writing. And as for the more extensively motor-impaired, computer technology now allows even quadriplegics to be productive through mouth and chin-controlled wheelchairs and computers. And a head mounted controller and a puff stick allows a nearly totally paralyzed person to select a letter or icon from a screen to write and, with the addition of a speech synthesizer, to speak. And for individuals who are unable to move more than their eyes, there is even a system that allows individuals to write and speak by selecting letters or icons with a simple concentrated look at them.

As it is clear to see, the productivity boundaries between disabled and able-bodied narrow every day thanks to technology. The most overpowering barrier facing the disabled now is one of attitude. We face much the same problem as minorities. People look at us and they don't quite know what to say. We look different. They don't understand us and they are afraid to say the wrong thing. So instead, it's easier to ignore us and try not to have us around. Unfortunately, that attitude just makes it worse because we are prevented access and participation in much of what goes on around us. Which is a shame, because all we want is a chance to participate in life and to be treated the same as everyone else: As people.

One day it won't matter. Race, gender, disability: they will be irrelevant and people will be judged by "who" they are. But, for the moment, we still shut out those who are different or don't fit our standard images.

On that note, though, it is worth mentioning that even today, such a barrier free world already exists, albeit an electronic one. And a fascinating one!

In the 80’s I was online with electronic bulletin board service called BIX (Byte Magazine Information Exchange), and on there we had a specialized adaptive technology conference and a closed "disabled and family only" conference. Since logging on in these areas, one of my occasional little games is to try to figure out who was disabled and who was not. And now, with Yahoo and other Mail servers, anyone can be connected, interactive, and informed.

Just like on any bulletin board services (BBS), unless someone chooses to tell you, there is no way of knowing whether they are disabled or not. Whether you type a letter at a time with one of the above adaptive systems, or type 120 words a minute, it doesn't matter. Online there is a living, interactive form of communication and information resource that doesn’t have to be real-time. Instead, you post your message or response when you are finished typing it -- whether that takes a minute, or ten, to do so.

Race, disability, gender -- unless you choose to reveal it, no one will ever know. What counts is what you say and do.

If only the "real" world were as blind.

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