Judith Heumann

We were beginning to see our lack of access as a problem with society, rather than our individual problem. From our perspective, disability was something that could happen to anyone at any time, and frequently did, so it was right for society to design its infrastructure and systems around this fact of life.

Then, in a matter-of-fact voice, in the same exact tone that she’d asked me to breathe in and breathe out, the doctor asked me to show her how I went to the bathroom.

When I drove my wheelchair into the doctor’s office, I saw two strange men already sitting in the room. Dr. James told me she had invited two other doctors to join in my medical exam.

With no introductions or any pretense of small talk, the three examined me together, firing a barrage of the same kinds of invasive questions: about my polio diagnosis, my medical history, my paralysis, and telling me, again, to walk for them. I had decided not to bring my crutches and braces. When I told the doctors this, I watched as Dr. James wrote something down.

Upside down on the form, I read her note: “Insubordinate.”

Why was I constantly being forced to knock on doors where I wasn’t welcome?

Accidents, illnesses, genetic conditions, neurological disorders, and aging are facts of the human condition, just as much as race or sex.

I was so tired of being called a fire hazard I could vomit.

I drove my wheelchair into the courtroom flanked by my team of lawyers, with my parents and brothers trailing immediately behind. I positioned my chair in front of the judge’s bench; Roy and Elias sat next to me. The bench was empty. Roy had told me that our judge was the first black female judge ever to be appointed to federal court. I was thrilled and couldn’t wait to see her.

Professor Blum recommended me to serve on the board of directors of the Over 60s Health Clinic, which was much more than a health clinic. One of my contributions to the board was to introduce the idea that disability was a natural part of the aging process; thus, the fact that people acquire disabilities as they age should be accommodated, so people can remain active in the community.

So they took me off the plane. Once we were in the airport, they asked for my ID. I didn’t have a regular ID because I didn’t drive, so I gave them my credit card—which was new, by the way, since women couldn’t apply for their own credit in the US until that very year, 1975. When they said that wasn’t good enough, I gave them my Senate ID card. As soon as they saw my Senate ID, they paused.

The East Coast protesters had been against the idea of going to Califano’s home: it broke certain conventions for how people practiced civil protest. But we had voted to go anyway. I was too angry to worry about protocol. Califano’s power rested in his ability to ignore us. The only way we were going to change anything was if we became impossible to ignore.