InspirationRenovationReal Estate

Urban accessibility

Mission invisible?

This file is from Sloft Edition 07

 

The issue of accessibility in cities remains problematic. Case in point: while the fact of hosting the 2024 Paralympic Games has accelerated the pace of change in the French capital, access to public infrastructures for people with disabilities remains limited, despite the temporary accommodations and infrastructural upgrades made for the event. This observation raises questions about the place given by society to vulnerable people in the city, even though the law requires it to do so.

In front of millions of viewers, on the Place de la Concorde, in the heart of Paris, Lucky Love sang the first notes of his song “My Ability”: “What’s wrong with my body? Am I not enough?” before dropping his jacket to reveal his absent arm. Lucky Love was born with agenesis, a rare malformation that left him without a left arm. Around him, dancers of all abilities formed a poetic tableau, in which differences are erased in favor of a moving artistic performance. Under their feet, the Place’s iconic cobblestones were evened out to allow them to move as freely as possible.

The date is August 28, 2024, summer is drawing to a close in Paris, and the opening ceremony of the Paralympic Games marks the start of two weeks of competitions. For the first time, there is palpable excitement surrounding para-athlete events. Mathilde Cabanis, a volunteer at the Games who has a motor disability, was delighted by this long-awaited recognition: “It’s incredible to see disabled athletes being applauded by thousands of people.”

Hakim Arezki, an Olympic champion with the French blind football team, was equally moved: “It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for a para athlete to take part in the Games at home. And here, under the Eiffel Tower, to boot! I’ll never forget the feeling of the medal around my neck.”

The city’s infrastructure underwent several months of work to accommodate para athletes and visitors. According to Tony Estanguet, President of the Paris Organizing Committee, the aim was to “drive change in the way disability is perceived.” A total of 33 million euros was spent on major improvements like fully accessible accommodation in the athletes’ village, lowering of sidewalks, sound systems for traffic lights, and equipment adapted to different disabilities – some of which, it bears mentioning, are temporary. But after the Games leave town, what’s really left for this often-overlooked population?

PARIS CAN DO BETTER

 

Paris had its work cut out to host the Paralympic Games. In 2022, website money.co.uk conducted a study on accessibility in the world’s twenty most visited cities, which placed the capital in seventh position, behind Dublin, Amsterdam and New York.

The reason: its transportation network, in particular, the Métro, is largely inadequate. Only one line (14) is fully accessible to people with motor disabilities, and even if all lines are accessible to people with disabilities, very few venture onto them. Thanks to the Paralympic Games, the city has ramped up the accessibility of its bus and streetcar network, which is now able to accommodate all users.

“When the bus ramp works, which isn’t always the case,” sighs Agathe Barrois, who lives with a genetic disease that requires her to use a heavy electric wheelchair. Every commute has taught the École normale supérieure student patience. The speed of the Métro is a distant dream. She has to avoid rush hours, when there’s no room for her wheelchair, not to mention the daily incivilities: “I once had a stranger sit on my lap”, she recalls.

Just as public transport is inaccessible, so are certain buildings, such as schools and local shops. The slightest journey quickly turns into an obstacle course with no room for improvisation: “Everything has to be programmed in advance, there’s no room for spontaneity”, laments Nicolas Mérille, national advisor to NGO APF France Handicap.

The hosting of the Paralympic Games has nonetheless enabled certain sustainable developments, he acknowledges, such as “the fleet of 1,000 accessible cabs and the construction of 3,000 homes in the Olympic Village, which are slated to be folded into the social and private housing stock”.

Another project accelerated by the presence of the Games in Paris is the creation of seventeen “enhanced accessibility” districts, enabling anyone, whatever their situation, to get around easily and have access to municipal services in their area. While still largely unknown to local residents, this project will benefit the 7% of the Paris region’s population who are living with disabilities. But the twelve million disabled people spread across the rest of the country will probably have to wait even longer, as the French government prepares to celebrate 50 years of public action in this field in January 2025.

 

Photographs : Paris 2024 / Isabelle Harsin

” To get around, everything has to be programmed; you’re not allowed any spontaneity. “


OUTLAW CITIES

The city is full of obstacles for people with disabilities – one step up to get into an elevator, a call button placed too high, a door that’s too heavy – that are invisible to the non-disabled, details that seem insignificant but can quickly become insurmountable obstacles.

“We underestimate how difficult it is for a person in a wheelchair to push open the door of a store, for example, and then move around inside, with aisles that are often too narrow to maneuver,” points out architect Sylvie Chataignier.

“It shows that they’re thought of last. To succeed, a disabled person has to show much more perseverance while fighting against pain and fatigue. We often forget their hardships, and only see what they can’t do,” explains the architect specializing in design for the differently-abled.

This alarming situation undermines access to fundamental rights for people with disabilities. In an opinion issued in April 2023, the Council of Europe severely condemned the French state, concluding that it had violated the European Social Charter. In its report, the institution denounced: “In France, people with disabilities are still discriminated against, suffer from a form of social exclusion, and the obstacles to their autonomy and full participation in the life of society persist, for want of a coordinated and sufficient response.”

 

Photographs: Guillaume Bontemps / Ville de Paris

However, since 2005, the law has required buildings and public transport to be made accessible. Initially scheduled to come into effect in 2015, the law has since been postponed. Its aim is to guarantee access to establishments that are open to the public, barring derogations. It expired last September, and the situation remains unchanged: many places are still not adapted to accommodate the disabled. Local shops, such as grocery stores, hairdressers and restaurants, are lagging particularly far behind. Without penalties for non-compliance, many prefer to avoid undertaking costly, burdensome work.

 

Photographs: Guillaume Bontemps / Ville de Paris

GRENOBLE AND STOCKHOLM: ROLE MODELS

 

But not all is lost: some French cities do stand out for their commitment to accessibility. This is the case of Grenoble, whose city council meetings are translated into sign language, and which has installed guide strips for the visually impaired, as well as magnetic loops in all cultural and conference venues, to facilitate access for the hearing impaired.

“To tackle accessibility, you have to think of a person’s life as a whole: getting up from bed, getting around in the public space, getting to school or work, and finally accessing athletic and cultural activities,” explains Luis Beltran-Lopez, the city’s councilor in charge of Disability and Accessibility.
This issue, referred to as the “chain of mobility” is crucial, as it represents a real challenge for disabled people: “Sometimes I find myself in a street where I can get on the sidewalk, but not off,” explains Agathe Barrois. In a truly inclusive city, universal accessibility must adapt to all types of disability, whether motor, visual, auditory, psychological, or other.

As far as architects are concerned, the measures present a host of problems. For some members of the profession, accessibility features often bring their lot of technical – and aesthetic – complications: “One of the greatest challenges is to reconcile the two. All too often, for visual reasons, we overlook elements that are essential for people with impaired vision or reduced mobility,” Beltran-Lopez adds.

The Swedish paradigm proves otherwise. In Stockholm, the Hammarby Sjöstad district incorporates a series of facilities accessible to people with disabilities, while at the same time being internationally recognized for its aesthetic appeal. Sidewalks are wide and obstacle-free, crosswalks are equipped with audible signals for the visually impaired, and buildings comply with strict accessibility standards. The project has received several awards for its inclusive and sustainable urban planning, demonstrating that it is possible to reconcile the two.

Looking east, we find a strong sensitivity to the needs of the elderly that is trickling down to more inclusive cities. Such is the case in Japan, where several historic sites have been adapted to facilitate access for people with disabilities. At Kyoto’s Kinkaku-ji temple, a Unesco World Heritage site, compact gravel paths allow wheelchair users to access the famous golden pavilion.

By incorporating facilities designed for everyone, cities not only promote the inclusion of people with disabilities but also create more pleasant and functional environments for the entire population. This is a crucial issue when we consider that the over-60s will account for 22% of the world’s population by 2050.

 

Photographs: Émilie Chaix/Ville de Paris / Association Valentin Haüy

” To succeed, a person with a disability has to show a lot more perseverance, while fighting against pain and fatigue. “


A TRULY INCLUSIVE CITY

Behind the issue of accessibility lies the emancipation of people with disabilities, who often have limited access to training and education, and thus to employment. “They are either confined to their own homes or to specialized facilities. It’s a form of social apartheid”, denounces Nicolas Mérille. By offering the same access as they do non-disabled people, cities can enable everyone to fulfill their potential and build a future that’s in their own image. And that benefits everyone.

“We’re beginning to understand that what’s good for wheelchair users is also good for others, such as parents with strollers,” stresses Chataignier. All those whose mobility is limited – the elderly, pregnant women, or travelers carrying suitcases – also benefit from more inclusive infrastructures.  Beyond the comfort they provide, these measures contribute to the creation of a society that recognizes and respects everyone’s particularities, whether in terms of age, physical ability, language, or sexual orientation. The city becomes more humane, more empathetic, and diversity is given its rightful place.

In their quest for inclusivity, the Paris 2024 Paralympic Games provided crucial visibility for people with disabilities, thereby giving the public at large a new way to look at a reality that is often perceived as isolated or problematic. This is a positive first step, but there are still many points to be scored to win the round and make the city a genuinely fairer, more inclusive place, for the benefit of society as a whole.

 

Photographs: Joséphine Brueder/Ville de Paris

“Accessibility, a genuine added value for everyone.”


 
Our conversation with Nadia Sahmi
 
Photographs : Fabrice Garate

French state-certified architect Nadia Sahmi has been involved in urban accessibility issues for over thirty years, Nadia Sahmi advocating for a global, collaborative and systemic approach to urban planning. She shared with us her vision of an inclusive city – one in which people of all abilities can feel fully integrated.

Can you tell us about your career background and how accessibility came to be central to your preoccupations?
 
I’m a state-certified architect, and right from the start, the human element was at the heart of my approach. I was interested in designing spaces in such a way as to improve the quality of life. After I graduated, I chose to work on a project for an inclusive school, because for me, the people missing out on education were children with disabilities. At the time, in 1992-1993, there was no training on the subject. So I decided to educate myself by meeting with different NGOs and understanding what it meant to be hard of seeing, hard of hearing, or in a wheelchair. My work as an architect was thus naturally oriented towards accessibility by listening to the actual needs of local residents.
How has urban accessibility evolved since you started out?
There has been tremendous progress, even if we’re still a long way from full accessibility. When I started out, there were very few regulations on accessibility, and they were poorly applied. For example, a bathroom could be adapted for people with mobility issues inside, but there were three steps to get there. My work consisted in defining what I call the “chain of mobility”, i.e. it’s not enough for a single element to be accessible, but for the whole route to be so, from the building to the surroundings, including parking areas. It is this chain that is essential to true participation in the city. Today, this notion is integrated into the design of buildings and public spaces, but much remains to be actually implemented.
 
What difficulties do you encounter in making the city truly inclusive?
 
The first challenge is to cater for all types of ability. For example, ramps are a good solution for wheelchair users, but not for visually impaired or elderly people. So we have to find compromises, because universal accessibility involves a multitude of small, complementary solutions. This is the approach for which I advocate: not looking for a single solution, but identifying major common denominators to come up with a combination of features that benefit everyone.
 

“We need to think of accessibility as a whole, from the home right through to the city.”


 
How can this “chain of mobility” be extended from buildings to the whole city?
 
It’s not enough for the interiors of buildings to be accessible. If public spaces, sidewalks, and public transit aren’t available, differently-abled or elderly people will find themselves confined to their own homes. So we need to think of accessibility as a whole, from the home right through to the city. For example, if I can design an accessible apartment, but an elderly person can’t walk in a park or go take care of administrative business, we’re missing the heart of the matter. It’s not just a question of building ramps or elevators, but of creating a city in which everyone can move around, participate, and integrate.
 
What was your role in organizing the Paris 2024 Olympic and Paralympic Games?
 
The Olympic Games contacted me to draw up the technical specifications that would guide the construction of the Olympic villages and venues. The aim was for all the sites to be accessible, not only for differently-abled people, but also to be able to adapt to changing needs, such as aging or illness. We thought about evolving spaces, with movable partitions to enlarge a room or create an opening between rooms in order to maintain social connections.

What this experience has revealed is that disability can be perceived differently, particularly through architecture. It is possible to create devices that are both functional and aesthetic, such as wheelchairs or braces that are also made to look good. Disability can generate emotion, reducing exclusion and increasing compassion.
At sites such as the Grand Palais or the Olympic villages, infrastructures were designed with little difficulty, or having to argue for the necessity of accessibility. However, one of the challenges remains to perpetuate these practices beyond the Olympics, because some organizations tend to consider these requests as event-specific, without reproducing them elsewhere. What has been lacking is a global approach to training and long-term support.
 
What do you see as the priorities for future urban development programs in terms of accessibility?
 
We need to think systemically. An inclusive city is not just about accessible buildings, but an organization that takes into account aging, in addition to all sorts of physical and mental ability, not to mention illness or simply feeling tired. Every project, whether it’s a city square or a forest trail, needs to incorporate these notions of deceleration, rest, and well-being. A cemetery, for example, is often designed in a somewhat hostile way: there’s nowhere to sit, protect yourself from the rain – or even just cry. Accessibility also means respecting these moments, creating spaces where we can take the time to live.
 
You often talk about the importance of emotions in architecture. How does this translate into your work?
 
Human beings are fundamentally social. We need relationships, contact with others, but also with nature. I’m a great believer in what I call “biophilia” and “philocalia.” Humans need to hear birdsong, to see trees, to be in touch with natural, benevolent beauty. But this beauty must not be reserved for the few: it must be benevolent for everyone, whatever their differences in physicality, sensoriality or sensitivity. It is this inclusive approach that enables us to move beyond the simple issue of “disability.” Designing architecture that responds to this diversity means creating spaces where everyone will feel at ease, whether visually impaired, in a wheelchair, or simply tired. When we design spaces that are totally made of concrete, lifeless, and devoid of vegetation, we’re actually creating suffering.
 

“Urban planning time is a long time, and for people with disabilities, it’s unbearable.”


 
What are some of the challenges ahead in terms of accessibility?
 
I think the greatest challenge is to convince people that accessibility is not a constraint, but a genuine added value for everyone. Too often, accessibility is seen as a costly and unattractive obligation. And yet, when it’s well thought out, it improves everyone’s life. The other challenge is the slow pace of change. Urban planning takes a long time, and for differently-abled people, this is unbearable. They only have one life and can’t wait twenty years for their city to become accessible. So we need to speed up our projects and start looking now for solutions that will evolve over time.

Living in the city with a disability


Is the city really designed for all?
 
Photographs: Jeanne Perrotte

Mathilde, Agathe and Hakim have to navigate their way through the challenges of the city on a daily basis. For them, public space is a trial of adaptation, resilience and affirmation. They tell us how the city, with its obstacles and dedicated infrastructures, influences their movements, their independence and their relationship with the outside world. How can we transform this reality? What does it mean to live in a truly inclusive city? Through their testimonies, they all invite us to reimagine a city where everyone – regardless of ability – finds their rightful place.

Mathilde Cabanis, mother of two, left-sided paraplegic, “Linkedin Top Voices” on disability

“My disability came about following a series of strokes. I’m paralyzed on my left side and walk with a carbon splint. My daughter has an invisible handicap: a liver transplant recipient, she takes anti-rejection drugs that make her immunosuppressed. In the city, I often felt isolated, especially when my children were in strollers. With my disability, I couldn’t carry them up the stairs and had to limit myself to the bus, which made my journeys much longer. That’s when I really felt the weight of my disability.”

“I’ve gotten good at compensating, but the city is still difficult – the cobblestones, the uneven ground, the old buildings with no elevators are all a constant reminder of my limitations. But I refuse to let my disability restrict me. I’ve learned to find solutions and ask for help when I need it. I continue to advocate for a more inclusive city, not only for wheelchair users, but also for those with invisible disabilities. It would be great to change the disability logo, which only represents 3% of us. A more universal symbol would help recognize everyone’s reality and make life easier for everyone.”

Agathe Barrois, student, living with spinal muscular atrophy, a rare genetic disease that affects all muscles except the heart.

“I’ve never been able to walk; I’ve been in a wheelchair since I was 2. Going out requires meticulous planning: I can’t just improvise. Everything has to be planned, from avoiding cobblestones and narrow sidewalks to locating the access ramps along my way. I only feel comfortable when I know exactly where to go and how to get to a place. At the École normale supérieure, where I study, the buildings are generally accessible and I spend a lot of time in their libraries and gardens.”

“I also enjoy going to the Musée d’Orsay, which is better designed for us than the Louvre. But when it comes to restaurants, cafés and bars, it gets very complicated. As soon as I want to get away, transportation quickly becomes a nightmare. As a result, everything takes an inordinate amount of time, and it’s isolating. I often go to the same places, because even with all the hurdles, you can’t stay cooped up. It’s true that the city isn’t accessible, but it’s by being visible that you can get things moving. It’s a political act.”

Hakim Arezki, center-back for the French blind football team and gold medalist at the Paris Paralympic Games

“Losing my eyesight in 2001 to a bullet during a demonstration in Algeria turned my life upside down, but France and blind football saved me. The Paralympic Games in Paris were an unbelievable experience. Playing under the Eiffel Tower, in front of thousands of spectators, was a dream come true for a para-athlete, and it proved that our sport can have a huge impact. I can’t drive, so public transport is essential to get to my training sessions.”

“I live in Boulogne-Billancourt and train in Bondy. It takes me 85 minutes: 10 minutes on foot, then metro, suburban train, and bus – a trip I make on my own most days. I’ve adapted to society, not the other way around. Sports, and in particular blind football, have helped me to become autonomous, to use my senses to achieve that autonomy. But today, what complicates things are electric cars or scooters, all these moving objects that don’t make a sound.”


Text : Sophie Gauthier