For Brooklyn's disabled, too much is off-limits
She considers going in, but then she sees that the entryway is not configured for her to open the door, pull back, and enter. A glimpse inside shows her that the aisles are too narrow for her to navigate, anyway.
“I don’t even think of shopping in most places anymore,” says Ayala (not her real name). “We are a nation of chesed, but long-term needs are not being met.”
I had a feeling of disenchantment on a recent afternoon as I watched Ayala, 45, ply the streets of her Brooklyn neighborhood. She was a vibrant and healthy person just three years ago, until a neuromuscular illness struck. She lost her job and was confined to a wheelchair, and must use a ventilator most of the day and night.
“Something needs to be done,” Ayala reiterates several times in our conversations. “Not only for me, but for the whole disabled population.”
Create a free account to keep reading.
