By Marianne Dhenin for Yes! Magazine.
Broadcast version by Shanteya Hudson for Georgia News Connection reporting for the YES! Media/Public News Service Collaboration

When then-Atlanta mayor Keisha Lance Bottoms announced in April 2021 that a new law enforcement training complex would be built in the Weelaunee Forest, or South River Forest, in Dekalb County, near Atlanta, Georgia, a diverse coalition of organizers, activists, and other community members formed to oppose the project under the "Stop Cop City" banner. For Atlanta-based disability justice activists who are part of the coalition, the movement to stop Cop City is a disability justice issue.

"It is critical for us to bring a disability perspective when we talk about Cop City," says Atlanta-based Dom Kelly, co-founder of the nonprofit New Disabled South (NDS), "because the construction of this facility will disproportionately harm disabled people."

Almost three years after Bottoms' announcement, Cop City, officially titled the Atlanta Public Safety Training Center, is under construction on an 85-acre plot of forested land owned by the City of Atlanta in DeKalb County. If completed, the campus will be the nation's largest police training complex, equipped with military-grade facilities and a mock city for urban police training.

Many who have mobilized against the project have highlighted the adverse environmental effects of clearing dozens of acres of the South River Forest to make way for the development. Indigenous-led groups also oppose the destruction of the Weelaunee Forest and its wildlife habitat.

Meanwhile, racial justice groups foreground the fact that police violence disproportionately harms communities of color, and abolitionist organizations reject any expansion of policing and incarceration. They argue that Cop City would further militarize the police force. "Police here have already responded to protests with militarized tactics, chemical weapons, and domestic terrorism charges," Atlanta organizer Micah Herskind told The New York Times last year. "Cop City would only further provide police with training and equipment to suppress dissent and terrorize Black and working-class communities."

According to disabled organizers, each of these issues affects their community in unique ways. The framework of disability justice helps reveal these intersections.

"Destroying any portion of that forest is going to have an impact on our ability to fight climate change, and then that will disproportionately impact the disabled community," says Kelly. Disabled folks are at greater risk of being negatively affected by climate change, including experiencing worsening health conditions due to changing weather or being left behind during climate-change-related disasters.

Many disabled people also live on fixed incomes, making it nearly impossible for them to afford equipment to help navigate the effects of climate change, like air conditioners to survive a heatwave or backup generators to get through a blackout.

Disabled people are also especially vulnerable to police violence and are overrepresented in the nation's incarcerated population. "Disabled people, especially disabled people of color, are disproportionately harmed by police and the carceral system," says Kelly.

NDS, which works across the southern United States, partnered with Data for Progress on a recent voter survey in six Southern states including Georgia, examining sentiments on law enforcement encounters for disabled people in the region. The survey respondents agreed that disabled people experience discrimination during law enforcement encounters due to their disabilities.

Among Black and disabled respondents, rates of agreement were higher than among White and non-disabled respondents, pointing to the important difference between lived experience and outside perception of law enforcement encounters. Over 50 percent of Black survey respondents said they believe disabled people experience discrimination when interacting with law enforcement. About 34 percent of White respondents agreed that disabled people face discrimination in these encounters. More than 46 percent of all disabled respondents and about 37 percent of all non-disabled respondents agreed that disabled people experience discrimination when interacting with law enforcement.

Further, according to data from the Survey of Prison Inmates, 66% of people incarcerated in the U.S. report having a disability. Studies have also found that as many as half of those killed by police nationwide are disabled.

Black people are already three times more likely than white people to be killed during a police encounter-disabled or not. Additionally, they are more likely to be disabled and less likely to have access to needed health care.

Often, police encounters with disabled people become violent because officers make assumptions about so-called normal behavior. If an individual does not speak, move, or behave as an officer expects or demands, rather than considering that they might be disabled, the officer may assume noncompliance and react with force.

"A lot of the Black men that Atlanta police or [those from] other police departments in the metro area have killed were disabled," says Susi Durán, chair of the Atlanta chapter of the National Lawyers Guild, another group actively organizing against Cop City.

In 2015, police in Chamblee, Georgia, just northeast of Atlanta, shot and killed Anthony Hill, a Black man with bipolar disorder who was experiencing a mental health crisis. In 2021, in a similar incident, a DeKalb County officer killed Matthew Zadok Williams. His family later told reporters he was having a mental health crisis, and they wished the police would have gotten him help.

Experts suggest that a training facility such as Cop City would worsen the criminalization of disabled people rather than lessen the issue. Studies show that training programs, even those intended to reduce implicit biases against marginalized groups, do not improve police interactions with those communities. Research also shows that the increasing militarization of the police disproportionately threatens minority groups.

Kiana Jackson, Research and Coalition Organizing Manager at NDS and a co-author of the recent NDS and Data for Progress survey, says people have been connecting the dots between the discrimination they've seen in their communities and police militarization. "It is important for disabled people to get out on the forefront of these issues and say, 'Hey, we are victims of this. We are the ones being killed,'" she says.

Many disabled folks in Atlanta and DeKalb County have been doing just that as an outspoken contingent of the Stop Cop City movement. When the Atlanta City Council scheduled a vote on an ordinance for funding Cop City at a council meeting in June 2023, hundreds of community members showed up to make their voices heard at a public comment session that lasted 14 hours.

"Disabled people are a part of the Atlanta community," said Barry Lee, an Atlanta-based disabled artist who spoke at the meeting. Lee then urged the council to "allocate the proposed funds toward creating better accessibility for the city of Atlanta."

The city consistently ranks low for quality of life for its disabled residents, partly because of its crumbling sidewalks, inaccessible transportation, and lack of health care facilities. "There are parts of the city where it is difficult to walk on some sidewalks," says Durán. "Plus, we lost our Level I trauma center when Atlanta Medical Center closed down [in 2022]."

When Georgia-based respondents to the recent NDS and Data for Progress survey were asked whether their state had adequate resources, such as medical or mental health resources for disabled people when interacting with law enforcement, only 31 percent said they thought so.

People are frustrated, Durán says, because rather than the Atlanta City Council allocating funding for repairing infrastructure or shoring up the city's health care, "They're spending it on policing." Slogans like "Defund the Police" and "Care, Not Cops," heard at Stop Copy City protests capture this sentiment. Like Lee, many others who spoke at the public comment session also called on the City of Atlanta to allocate funding to infrastructure, housing, or youth programs rather than policing.

Despite the mass opposition at its meeting last June, the Atlanta City Council voted to approve $31 million in funding for the construction of Cop City.

When the Stop Cop City movement launched its next front, disabled organizers were again at the fore. The "Vote to Stop Cop City" referendum campaign began soon after that council meeting, aiming to get a vote on Cop City's construction on an upcoming ballot. One of its two fiscal sponsors was New Disabled South Rising (NDRS), NDS's political arm.

Kelly says backing the referendum campaign "aligned with the work [NDS was] already doing" as part of the organization's mission to support efforts decriminalizing disability and ensuring disabled people have access to the democratic process.

As fiscal sponsor on the campaign, NDS worked behind the scenes processing and disbursing contributions. Kelly says the organization also helped ensure that communications and canvassing were inclusive of disabled Atlantans.

Between its launch in June and September 11, 2023, the referendum campaign collected and submitted 116,000 signatures from Atlanta residents. That number is well over the threshold needed to get Cop City on the ballot. But the City of Atlanta has questioned it and made a series of attempts to disrupt the validation process, which Stop Cop City organizers claim are stalling tactics undermining Atlantans' right to vote on the issue.

As the referendum petitions move through a contested verification process and direct action to stop Cop City's construction continues, disabled organizers say they're committed to continuing their work. "If we want to see collective liberation in our lifetimes, we have to fight back against the further militarization of police and destruction of our already precious forest environment to ensure that future generations have a planet to live on and won't be murdered by police," says Kelly. "Cop City is one piece of that struggle."


Marianne Dhenin wrote this article for YES! Magazine.


get more stories like this via email

Ballot questions, like one dealing with property taxes, are getting attention this election season in North Dakota. But another gets to the heart of how people with disabilities are described by state agencies and public documents.

If Measure 1 is approved, North Dakota's Constitution would be amended to replace outdated terminology.

For example, a "state hospital for the insane" would be changed to a "state hospital for the care of individuals with mental illness."

Veronica Zietz, executive director of the North Dakota Protection and Advocacy Project, said a successful outcome would be a positive step for the state.

"This ballot measure really signifies that how we talk about people matters," said Zietz, "and it can be an indication of dignity and respect."

This specific ballot question arose from the last legislative session after disability rights advocates and lawmakers huddled together. Similar efforts are unfolding in states like Nevada as well.

According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, more than 150,000 North Dakota adults have some form of disability.

Zietz said creating more acceptance is likely to affect communities more than you might think.

"Chances are that you all know somebody that has a disability, or care about somebody that has a disability or a mental health condition," said Zietz. "And I guess I feel like this ballot measure is an opportunity to show support for that person that you care about."

She said it's important to remember that people with disabilities also are successful business owners or parents, and play many roles in society.

While there's no opposition to the ballot question, over time, differing views have emerged within the disability community over which terminology is preferred.




get more stories like this via email

State data show more Iowans with disabilities are employed. And advocates with the Iowa Developmental Disabilities Council point out that - during this National Disability Employment Awareness Month - the increase is positive, but barriers remain.

The latest numbers show almost 91,000 Iowans with disabilities are employed - half of them at least part-time.

Kristine Graves is one of them. She answers the phones at the Iowa Warm Line - a service for people who need someone to talk with but are not facing an immediate mental health crisis.

Graves said while being employed gives her purpose, there is a downside.

"The money part - it causes a barrier to getting services that you might need, because you're making more money," said Graves. "They didn't give you that time - like, 'We'll give you six months to get cut off.' They just kind of did it overnight."

The newest state data show that 6% of the Iowa labor force lives with some form of disability.

Alex Watters, a quadriplegic and member of the city council in Sioux City, is also the alumni engagement director at Morningside University.

Watters said the benefit eligibility issue keeps some qualified people out of the workforce. He said he has had to limit the amount of work he can accept, which he said affects his upward mobility.

"I've had to turn down raises," said Watters. "I have had to deny paychecks through the city or different things, turn down speaking engagement - all because if I go over the income limit, I suddenly lose all of my benefits. And then I'm stuck. Then I'm forced to pay out of pocket, which results in tens of thousands of dollars per year."

The Americans with Disabilities Act guarantees equal opportunity for public accommodations,
commercial facilities, transportation and employment.




get more stories like this via email

By Tony Leys for KFF Health News.
Broadcast version by Mark Moran for Big Sky Connection reporting for the KFF Health News-Public News Service Collaboration

The blue-and-white highway sign for the eastbound rest stop near here displays more than the standard icon of a person in a wheelchair, indicating facilities are accessible to people who can’t walk. The sign also shows a person standing behind a horizontal rectangle, preparing to perform a task.

The second icon signals that this rest area along Interstate 80 in western Iowa has a bathroom equipped with a full-size changing table, making it an oasis for adults and older children who use diapers because of disabilities.

“It’s a beacon of hope,” said Nancy Baker Curtis, whose 9-year-old son, Charlie, has a disability that can leave him incontinent. “I’m like, ‘Oh my gosh, we’re finally there.’”

The white changing table is 6 feet long and can be lowered and raised with a handheld controller wired to an electric motor. When not in use, the table folds up against the wall.

The table was recently installed as part of a national effort to make public bathrooms more accessible in places like airports, parks, arenas, and gas stations. Without such options, people with disabilities often wind up being changed on bathroom floors, in cars, or even on the ground outside.

Many families hesitate to go out because of the lack of accessible restrooms. “We all know somebody who’s tethered to their home by bathroom needs,” Baker Curtis said. She doesn’t want her son’s life to be limited that way. “Charlie deserves to be out in the community.”

She said the need can be particularly acute when people are traveling in rural areas, where bathroom options are sparse.

Baker Curtis, who lives near Des Moines, leads the Iowa chapter of a national group called “Changing Spaces,” which advocates for adult-size changing tables. The group offers an online map showing scores of locations where they’ve been installed.

Advocates say such tables are not explicitly required by the federal Americans with Disabilities Act. But a new federal law will mandate them in many airports in coming years, and states can adopt building codes that call for them. California, for example, requires them in new or renovated auditoriums, arenas, amusement parks, and similar facilities with capacities of at least 2,500 people. Ohio requires them in some settings, including large public facilities and highway rest stops. Arizona, Illinois, Maryland, Minnesota, and New Hampshire also have taken steps to require them in some public buildings.

Justin Boatner of Arlington, Virginia, advocates for more full-size changing tables in the Washington, D.C., area. Boatner, 26, uses a wheelchair because of a disability similar to muscular dystrophy. He uses diapers, which he often changes himself.

He can lower an adjustable changing table to the height of his wheelchair, then pull himself onto it. Doing that is much easier and more hygienic than getting down on the floor, changing himself, and then crawling back into the wheelchair, he said.

Boatner said it’s important to talk about incontinence, even though it can be embarrassing. “There’s so much stigma around it,” he said.

He said adult changing tables are still scarce, including in health care facilities, but he’s optimistic that more will be installed. Without them, he sometimes delays changing his diaper for hours until he can get home. That has led to serious rashes, he said. “It’s extremely uncomfortable.”

Iowa legislators in recent years have considered requiring adult changing tables in some public restrooms. They declined to pass such a bill, but the discussion made Iowa Department of Transportation leaders aware of the problem. “I’m sorry to say, it was one of those things we’d just never thought of,” said Michael Kennerly, director of the department’s design bureau.

Kennerly oversees planning for rest stops. He recalls an Iowan telling him about changing a family member outside in the rain, with only an umbrella for shelter. Others told him how they changed their loved ones on bathroom floors. “It was just appalling,” he said.

Iowa began installing adult changing tables in rest stops in 2022, and it has committed to including them in new or remodeled facilities. So far, nine have been installed or are in the process of being added. Nine others are planned, with more to come, Kennerly said. Iowa has 38 rest areas equipped with bathrooms.

Kennerly estimated it costs up to $14,000 to remodel an existing rest-stop bathroom to include a height-adjustable adult changing table. Incorporating adult changing tables into a new rest stop building should cost less than that, he said.

Several organizations offer portable changing tables, which can be set up at public events. Some are included in mobile, accessible bathrooms carried on trailers or trucks. Most permanent adult changing tables are set up in “family restrooms,” which have one toilet and are open to people of any gender. That’s good, because the act of changing an adult is “very intimate and private,” Baker Curtis said. It’s also important for the tables to be height-adjustable because it’s difficult to lift an adult onto a fixed-height table, she said.

Advocates hope adult changing tables will become nearly as common as infant changing tables, which once were rare in public bathrooms.

Jennifer Corcoran, who lives near Dayton, Ohio, has been advocating for adult changing tables for a decade and has seen interest rise in recent years.

Corcoran’s 24-year-old son, Matthew, was born with brain development issues. He uses a wheelchair and is unable to speak, but he accompanies her when she lobbies for improved services.

Corcoran said Ohio leaders this year designated $4.4 million in federal pandemic relief money to be distributed as grants for changing-table projects. The program has led to installations at Dayton’s airport and art museum, plus libraries and entertainment venues, she said.

Ohio also is adding adult changing tables to rest stops. Corcoran said those tables are priceless because they make it easier for people with disabilities to travel. “Matthew hasn’t been on a vacation outside of Ohio for more than five years,” she said.

Kaylan Dunlap serves on a committee that has worked to add changing-table requirements to the International Building Code, which state and local officials often use as a model for their rules.

Dunlap, who lives in Alabama, works for an architecture firm and reviews building projects to ensure they comply with access standards. She expects more public agencies and companies will voluntarily install changing tables. Maybe someday they will be a routine part of public bathrooms, she said. “But I think that’s a long way out in the future, unfortunately.”


Tony Leys wrote this story for KFF Health News.


get more stories like this via email