Accessibility IRL

December 28, 2025

The yellow plastic textured insert embedded in the sidewalk cement of a curb cut dirty with ice and salt.

Finding the overlap between digital and physical worlds.

Every winter it snows. Every winter I shovel and every winter I think about writing this post. Now I’m finally getting around to gathering my ideas. In hindsight, it seems obvious, but it wasn’t until I started shoveling snow every winter that I made the connection between my accessibility work in web design and making my sidewalk accessible.

Background

Like a lot of city dwellers, shoveling snow isn’t really something you think about. After over 30 years of living in apartments, I had really internalized the belief that keeping the sidewalk clean of snow and ice was always someone else’s job. Building managers, store owners, doormen and landlords would always come out and shovel a path in front of their own little fiefdom with varying levels of success and/or effort. It was a built in cost of an apartment or part of the maintenance contract. I wasn’t expected to fix the heat in the building either. I do remember having a twinge of guilt as I ran outside to play in the snow in Brooklyn though — running right past my landlord as they shoveled the sidewalk. Only a small twinge though as it was their house. I was just a tenant to them and so be it, not shoveling was part of the agreement.

I suspect this is the same attitude many web designers and developers have towards accessibility on the web. It’s someone else’s job. It’s expected to be included in the plan, the service, the template, the theme, the subscription.

The Switch

Of course, this all changes when you find yourself as the owner instead of the tenant. When we bought our house, all of a sudden it became my responsibility to keep the sidewalk free of snow, safe and accessible. Now, of course, I had shoveled snow before. For my family growing up or for my homeowner and car owning friends. Even one famous night with the band where we had to shovel to get the van out, shovel to get a parking spot at the gig and then returned home to find the snow plows had…blocked in the driveway…again…and we had to shovel a final time to get the van into the driveway. Talk about DIY punk rock. A snow shovel became part of our music gear.

The Reasons

Now it occurs to me that the reasons I’m diligent about shoveling now, mirror the rationale followed by many businesses. The first reason? Financial pressure. When we moved into the house, the previous owner told us that if we didn’t shovel the sidewalk, the city would fine us. And while we didn’t quite take his word as honest or legitimate, we did know that he was cheap and lazy, so the probability that he had left the sidewalk uncleared until the city finally noticed was quite high. So yes, financial incentive is often the first way companies (and homeowners) become interested in accessibility. I’ve often repeated to other designers the mantra, “Don’t get the company sued.” I’ve been on calls with the lawyers and it’s not fun. And much like with shoveling, it’s better to get it right at the beginning rather than attempting to fix it later. Trying to chip away at four inches of ice with a plastic shovel is not an accessibility strategy.

The second reason is that it becomes personal. Someone at the company uses assistive technology for the web. Alternatively, someone (often a new hire) at the company speaks up and asks why the website isn’t accessible. Likewise, someone in your family, your neighborhood uses assistive technology to walk, to see, to hear. The adage is true for a reason — we will all be disabled eventually. We will all be less able as we age and we will all need some assistance — a walker, a wheelchair, a cane, eye glasses, hearing aid, etc. As I shovel, I think about my father-in-laws using their wheelchairs and walkers to navigate the world. Heck, I even think of the mean old nuns in the nursing home up the street. No one wants a dead nun on the sidewalk outside their house. Better to slog out into the sub zero temperatures to shovel the sidewalk than face that nightmare. For businesses, this is where financial incentive mixes with the personal aspect: why create/ignore barriers to potential customers? You want to make that sale, right? I shovel to make sure the fire hydrant is clear and accessible. To make sure it’s visible when firefighters are rushing to save lives.

The third reason is pride of ownership. In terms of shoveling, I’m influenced by my years as a pedestrian. I bought my first car in my 40s, so my entire life has been walking. Walking the streets for decades will form a high level of empathy and strong opinions on what makes a sidewalk accessible. For example, clearing a single shovel width of snow from the sidewalk is only a first step. It’s the epitome of accurate, but not adequate; conformant but not accessible. Why? People walk both ways on the sidewalk. When they meet, once must move over and only one person can use the clear path. The other is forced to risk the snow, the ice, the cold. Ideally, you shovel the entire width of the sidewalk, allowing people to pass each other without risking falls. Pride also means going the extra step. Clearing the snow is great, but what about ice? You may include ALT text, but is it valuable? Relevant? Or just performative? I add salt (paw safe) to the sidewalk to prevent ice from building up, because I’ve watched people fall and I’ve slipped and skidded down the hill. Heck, I once skated off the sidewalk and into traffic. It scared a school bus driver so much that she stopped and gave me a ride down the hill.

It’s also worth noting that accessibility isn’t a single season. It isn’t a one and done. It’s constant maintenance and continuous improvement. In the summer, I trim the hedge so that it doesn’t overgrow and narrow the sidewalk. I cut it back so that the giant left turn warning sign is visible; so that cars don’t miss the turn and smash into my neighbors front yard. In the fall, I rake the leaves and pine needles to clear the sidewalk to prepare for the coming snow. No need to shovel both leaves and snow come winter. Better to take each in turn. It’s also never perfect. Your neighbor might need help. You might be out of town when a storm hits and that’s okay. You can pick up where you left off.

Finally, shoveling is a signal. Accessibility is a signal. It’s a sign post indicating the world you want to live in. We can each create the world we want. You’ve seen examples before. The neighborhood where all the houses have shoveled the sidewalk but one house hasn’t. Or worse, the reverse where only one house on the block has shoveled the sidewalk. How does that make you feel? There’s a certain level of monkey see, monkey do and you can be the first. You can show the way. Me? I want to live in an accessible world. I want the sidewalk to be clear. I want the walk to be easy. For you and for me.