Pride for All?

With the community about to come together for Pride celebrations across the country, Vic Kelly-Victor shares how accessibility to Pride shouldn’t be something special and what needs to be done to ensure inclusion for all.

June 2022: I took part in the Dublin Pride March with the LGBT+ Traveller and Roma Action Group. The route was great for my wheelchair, even with the rise before the Talbot Memorial Bridge. The mood in the group was great and I was feeling included… until we reached the designated entrance to Merrion Square. The ground behind the gate was an uneven, bare earth, downward slope. The volunteers didn’t know if a more wheelchair-friendly access was available to the Pride celebration. I got in with help but it was a rough ride — and I was further disappointed to see no considerations for wheelchair users inside the park.

August 2022: I was in Copenhagen for a massive Pride event on Rådhuspladsen. Getting there was easy: there’s a barrier-free underground train. However, the square itself was packed with people, with no designated safe path or suitable viewing area for wheelchair users and others with mobility challenges. I could pardon-and-excuse-me my way into the crowd, but not into a position to see anything — or to safely leave.

I’m not sharing this to elicit sympathy or point the finger, but to give examples of how we can do better. As a wheelchair user, I did not feel fully included at those two major Pride events in 2022. The Copenhagen Pride event also lacked Danish Sign Language interpreters and a neuro-affirmative quiet zone. There was plenty of space for queerness, but not enough for disability.

I hope this year will be better and next year better again. Pride committees and participants can do better.

As I write, the Wexford Pride committee (which includes me) is putting the finishing touches on our annual celebration: the daytime Pride in the Park, which happens to be the first event of Ireland’s Pride season. We’ve arranged entertainers, volunteers, vendors, and first aid; booked equipment and transport; and secured some funding and raffle prizes: all the basics for the day. We’re also following through on our promise to be more accessible than last year: once again, we have a neuro-affirmative quiet zone run in association with Neuro Pride Ireland, and this year, we’ve borrowed mobility scooters and rented trackway to lie across the grass. We’re also live streaming the performances.

However, we haven’t managed to find Irish Sign Language (ISL) interpreters, which was one of our goals for this year. We started looking early, but it didn’t work out. We’re all sad that that a Deaf queer person or ally might come and feel excluded. So we’re going to start looking in June for someone for next May.

Veronica Victor (she/her), Wexford Pride’s Community Liaison offered this apology on behalf of the Committee: “We want to offer a massive apology to the Deaf signing community. We were not able to find an interpreter for May 27, Pride in the Park. This is not good enough and we are sorry. We see you and we will do better next time.”

Accessibility of LGBTQ+ Pride celebrations, protests, and other events is obviously personal to me. I use a wheelchair, I’m hard of hearing (heading towards Deaf), and I have OCD. So yes, encouraging every Pride organisation to work on accessibility is personal. I don’t want anyone to go to an event and feel excluded or feel like they are asking for something special.

That’s an aspect of my internalised ableism that I have to work on: remembering that asking for access is not asking for something special. It’s not asking people to go above and beyond expectation: it’s asking for a basic expectation to be met. Access is a fundamental right. Providing access should not be seen as a hassle. When the barriers to access are still in place, someone has failed.

That’s why not securing the services of ISL interpreters for Wexford’s Pride in the Park rankles so much: it’s a failure.

Accessibility is a task for every Pride organisation, big or small, regional or national. The number of LGBTQ+ people with disabilities is definitely not small. According to the World Health Organisation, 16 percent of the world’s population is disabled. The most recent figure for Ireland is 13.5 percent of the population; for the UK, 17.7 percent; and for the EU, 24 percent (these differences are partially due to differences in the legal definition of “disabled person” in different territories).

Within our LGBTQ+ community, disability rates are actually higher. There is a higher prevalence of autism and ADHD in the trans population than in the cis population. Autism is three to six times more common in trans and nonbinary people than in cis people. Marginalised communities like ours are proven to have higher rates of long-term illness, mental health issues, and disability.

But even taking WHO’s figure for the world population, we could assume that of every 25 people who want to attend Pride, four have a disability. How many of those four won’t go because of the barriers they know they’ll face? It’s up to us, Pride organisers and participants, to try to make our events truly inclusive. And that means we should look at the spirit of accessibility, not just the legal requirements. It’s not just about having a safe and level path in and out of the event space: we should make sure that the path ends somewhere that has a decent view of the stage. It’s not enough to just have a neuro-affirmative zone somewhere: we should work with a group like Neuro Pride Ireland to ensure that it is located in the best place and properly equipped. It’s about educating ourselves and our community.

Of course, even as a disabled queer person who recognises a lot of the barriers, I don’t have all the answers. I’m still educating myself. Also, I want to recognise that Pride organisers are mostly LGBTQ+ volunteers trying their best. As Cúan (they/them) of the Pride of the Déise committee commented: “One of our biggest challenges is capacity of our committee. We are all volunteers and we have limited time and resources to devote to Pride, especially since the cost of living rose so dramatically.” This was echoed by John Cunningham-Ryan (he/him) of Wexford Pride: “We do everything we can. We acknowledge where we can do better. And we try to get more funding to do more next year.”

To try to change “trying our best” into “doing the best”, remember that accessibility measures:

· Can be responsive

· Should include removing as many physical barriers as possible

· Should include removing as many barriers to communication as possible

· Should be neuro-affirmative

If you’re not sure about accessibility for your event, talk to a disabled-led organisation or a disabled consultant, especially if your organisation represents a large community like Dublin’s. Small communities like Waterford’s and Wexford’s can get a lot of information directly from their membership. For example, Cúan of Pride of the Déise says they overcome problems by “constantly listening and trying to be inclusive of individual needs — this is mostly done on a personal level.” Also, consider surveying attendees

(and people who couldn’t attend) to learn about this year’s barriers before next year’s event. And as always, bear in mind that consulting is labour and shouldn’t go unpaid.

When it comes to physical barriers, go beyond thinking of wheelchairs and walking aids: consider also the invisible disabilities that affect walking, going up and down slopes and stairs, and standing for long periods. If the route is long, consider a float or open-topped vehicle that people can ride but still be part of the march. Consider any hills or slopes along the route: can an alternative route avoid them? Could the pace or length of the march be decreased?

If the event is in a park, rent trackways so people with mobility devices can get into and through the space — and make sure there’s clear access to food vendors, toilets, and a space with a good view of the stage. Borrow County Council mobility scooters and have them on hand. Offer some seating.

When it comes to communication, think broadly. ISL interpreters should be a must at any Pride event. Signs should be worded clearly and unambiguously — and key information from those signs should also be communicated verbally from the stage or by Pride route guides to accommodate participants who are blind or otherwise could not get the information from the sign. Volunteers should be briefed on how to communicate with and support a variety of people to make all areas accessible.

Regarding neuro-affirmative measures, I’ll defer to a representative of Neuro Pride Ireland, who said this: “Neuro Pride Ireland have been so lucky to directly liaison with several Prides both last year and this year. Where we have the means, we are always happy to help. There are many ways a Pride can be a welcoming space to Neurodivergent people. For example, having a specific neuro-friendly zone and releasing comprehensive information about what to expect. But our number one advice is a low-cost, highimpact action: make it explicitly clear that Neurodivergent people are welcome and are encouraged to bring along comfort or accessibility items, like ear defenders and chewelry. Knowing that you won’t be questioned about your accessibility needs goes a huge way towards feeling welcome.”

That last statement resonates so deeply with me. I want to be part of Pride in Wexford, in Waterford, in Dublin, in other cities. I want to be part of the protests and the celebrations. But I need to know that I can just go and participate without struggling — and without feeling like I have to ask for something special.