Remembering the day the wall fell

July 26, 1990, may not seem like a significant date in our nation's history, but indeed it was; it changed forever the lives of 42 million Americans living with disabilities. On this day, 20 years ago, thousands gathered on the south lawn of the White House as former President George H. W. Bush enacted into law the first Americans with Disabilities Act.

I was an active 42-year-old rehabilitation professional advocating for employment and access for people with disabilities in the State of Georgia. Prior to that I worked in Florida, helping to educate employers about the most successful and effective ways to accommodate workers with disabilities. I also helped to expedite the passage of the first accessibility standards for that state, and through new human rights legislation in Florida, people with disabilities became a protected class in life as well as in their employment. I had worked hard to help bring about these vital civil rights change.

For in my own life, I had been rejected for jobs for which I was well qualified, denied entry into four colleges, ejected from airplanes, rejected for jury duty, denied entry into churches and denied the opportunity to vote. All that blatant discrimination occurred simply because I used a wheelchair. I was not a bad or rowdy person. I merely had the untimely fortune to contract polio at age 7.

By age 16, I could drive a car and move independently around my community, but I did need to use a wheelchair. My need for the wheelchair became the excuse for the reason I could be rejected and ejected, I was told. "You can't do this because you are in a wheelchair." Some actually wrote that prejudicial rationale in rejection letters.

Then, 20 years ago, I experienced one of the proudest days of my life. It was a perfect day. Public relations folks could not have scripted it better. There were bright blue skies, puffy white clouds and just enough wind was present to snap the hundreds of American flags flying over Washington, DC. I had been invited to sit in the open seating section; I had to present my invitation and ticket at the gate of the White House at 8 a.m. to be admitted through security and onto the East Lawn overlooking the Ellipse and the Washington Monument. It made me feel patriotic and honored to be there. We were given small American flags together with a red, white and blue decorated button to commemorate the signing of the historic Americans with Disabilities Act. A nice young soldier escorted me to my seat area; I had a great view of the stage and the seating areas to be occupied by dignitaries and members of Congress.

The hours prior to that 11 a.m. event were fascinating. It was a meet-and-greet for the highest political officials, members of Congress, Hollywood stars together with national glitterati who happened to be included in the disability and rehabilitation community. Before me, there was assembled a 1990 “Who's Who” of those who had been most influential in the passage of this long- awaited and hard-fought civil rights law. For people living with disabilities here in America, this was indeed one of our most momentous and patriotic moments.

At 11 a.m. with great fanfare, the President's own band played "Hail to the Chief" and President George Herbert Walker Bush walked up on the festooned platform together with four top leaders of the disability community. "Let the shameful wall of exclusion finally come tumbling down,” the President urged as he prepared to sign the bill.

And fall it did, thanks to the determination and action of those who would not accept the kind of public discrimination and rejection I had been forced to endure just because I happened to move about in a wheelchair. Last week marked the 20th anniversary of the signing of the Americans with Disabilities Act on July 26, 1990. It was a day I could stand with other Americans and claim I had the right and was due equal consideration for jobs, housing, education, transportation, accommodation and life in general. It was a day to celebrate for all who live with limitations, for now it was the law that we must be judged equally with able-bodied competition.

Indeed, there had been a "shameful wall of exclusion" here in our country of opportunity. But July 26, 1990 changed all that. The Americans with Disabilities Act spoke to those who had limited others like me by saying, "You can't do that; you are in a wheelchair." Or are blind or hard of hearing or mentally retarded or have a history of cancer.

The ADA stated clearly that all applicants, not just the able-bodied ones, deserved an equal chance to be considered for work and play and life opportunities. That proud and momentous day at the White House in July of 1990 demanded that all Americans were to be treated equally. Indeed, it was our civil right! It was a day I will never forget. The day I got my civil rights.

Tamara Bibb Allen is a resident of Carrabelle