I’m supportive of almost all efforts to improve the accessibility of public spaces and commercial buildings to those with access and functional needs. Whether blind, deaf, mobility impaired, or some other characteristic that impedes one’s ability to get around in situations that 95% of us take for granted, I’m hard pressed to find much to complain about the Architectural Barriers Act, the most stringent and expansive Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA), or other incremental improvements to building codes that have helped expand who can navigate through social settings comfortably. I first learned about the history of the ADA many years ago, as well as the fact that it wasn’t an open-and-shut case—that many lobbying groups actively opposed the effort and multiple years of lobbying were necessary to push the bill to a vote. Most famous was the Capitol Crawl. in which disabled activists unexpectedly doffed their wheelchairs and other assistive devices, hoisting themselves up the front step to the US Capitol’s entrance (100 stairs, to be more precise)—a collective act that left such a strong impression that it prompted some legislators to favor a bill they had previously opposed. At the time, I remember feeling deep irritation, even anger, at the notion that so many people would attempt to stymie such an unabashedly benevolent gesture. How could people be so callous to stand in the way of wheelchair-bound people getting around basic social settings?
That said, I’m no longer so dogmatic that I can’t recognize why many of these regulations over the years have faced stiff opposition.
The nondescript, one-story row of offices in the photo above reflects commercial construction from (I suspect) the late 1970s or early 1980s, just a few years before the passage of the ADA. The featured building is one of several identical structures that host a variety of medical specialists, all immediately adjacent to a large hospital in southern Fairfax County, Virginia. The buildings hardly constitute amazing architecture; functionality almost certainly trumped aesthetics. By 2023 standards, most units are outmoded enough to require some significant improvements to get them where they need to be, in terms of interior flow, record storage, contemporary screening equipment. But this medical complex generally has no problem finding tenants, because its prime location next to a hospital makes it lucrative for a dermatologist, periodontist, gastroenterologist, otolaryngologist, or podiatrist to start his or her private practice. After all, a guaranteed customer base hovers just a few hundred feet away.
As long as Inova Mount Vernon Hospital remains in operation at this location, the medical office park that stretches immediately to the south will remain viable, and those 1970s-era buildings should have no problem finding specialists willing to lease them out.
But they are old fashioned. So it doesn’t take much to spot the “significant improvements” necessary. The entrance to Select Physical Therapy provides a perfect example.
Any ideas what’s wrong? It’s as simple as a small slab of concrete: the single front step at the the doorway, rendering the entrance completely inaccessible for anyone in a wheelchair. And, given the nature of the medical practice behind that door, the likelihood that patients will be wheelchair-bound is greater than other medical specializations. Some patients to Select Physical Therapy may only temporarily depend on a wheelchair, but getting out of that wheelchair is a critical element to their physical therapy—perhaps the greatest goal, if they suffer an injury rather than a chronic condition. A front step like this significantly reduces the potential customer base at this location.
The situation poses an interesting predicament. The 1990 passage of the ADA would have rendered a commercial structure like this immediately non-compliant overnight, with the stroke of the presidential pen. (George H. W. Bush ultimately signed the Act into law.) And countless other offices across the country faced similar non-compliance, which no doubt galvanized the lobbying efforts to stymie the law among certain business interest groups. Physical changes are hard and expensive, especially to a small business owner—which is exactly what a private medical practice is. It might beg the question: why design a building adjacent to hospital (where the tenants are all medical related) in a fashion so that people with medical conditions cannot enter? The answer may be quite simple: that front step just didn’t occur to anyone at the time. A half century ago, people who depended on wheelchairs were unlikely to reach such a location on their own; most cars did not offer special implements so that disabled people could drive. As a result, the driver of a wheelchair-bound person would then have to heave the individual up that massive step to get into the office, all but precluding a wheelchair-bound patient from ever visiting a place like Select Physical Therapy on his or her own.
The ADA has indisputably promoted independence for persons with disabilities, but it also sought compromise through grandfathering: allowing businesses below a certain size to remain unmodified, because their owners could easily go bankrupt in their attempt to build themselves into compliance. Other businesses, operating out of pre-1990 structures, found workarounds, such as this motel in upstate New York I featured last year, which added wheelchair-friendly ramps to certain units to circumvent the “front step problem”. Select Physical Therapy, it appears, also applied this solution.
The practice features another entrance several feet away, which used the available sidewalk frontage to provide a second, wheelchair-accessible entrance. It gets the job done nicely, but it reveals what an inordinate amount of space is necessary to compensate for a single front step.
Judging from the organization of windows, doors, and spaces, I’m pretty certain that Select Physical Therapy leased out two adjacent units, then added interior circulation to link them into one larger office. I have no way of knowing if this physical therapy practice invested in the wheelchair ramp or if some preceding tenant did, and Select Physical Therapy sought out the space because of the extra investment. As the original photo indicated, not every business at this medical office park features wheelchair ramps.
In fact, most don’t. And, in fairness, while certain “strips” within this medical office park seem fully occupied, others do not. It’s almost as though the configuration that architects and construction companies conceived back in 1977 doesn’t really pass muster today. The irony should not go unnoticed: medically themed commercial complexes usually feature an abundance of handicapped-friendly parking spaces, yet they still have that almost impassable front step.
They just didn’t think it all the way through. The mix of ADA-compliant and non-compliant entrances is evidence that the 1990 act did not mandate retrofits. Grandfathering was permitted, even for medical uses. But, in some respects, the marketplace has responded. Property managers that don’t retrofit their offices to account for that front step will need tenants willing to invest the money themselves, or they simply won’t successfully lease the units. And with high vacancies, the property manager/owner can’t generate adequate revenue
When up against the fist of policy fiat, the open, invisible hand provides guidance, The hand offers a gentle push up that ramp toward (a favorite word in 2023) “inclusivity”.
