Just call me "Share a Smile, Becky"

In 1997, Mattel released a Barbie in a wheelchair called Share a Smile, Becky. This was seven years after the passage of the Americans with Disability Act (ADA). A girl with cerebral palsy wrote Mattel when she realized that the Share a Smile Becky would not fit in Barbi’s Dreamhouse elevator. Instead of redesigning the Dreamhouse, Mattel discontinued the doll.

I share this because I had a Share a Smile Becky experience last week.

For the holidays, I wanted to share fun holiday experiences with close friends. With one I went to a Board and Brush event and made this Victorian Christmas tray. And for another, I bought tickets to a holiday event at the Bonnet House. This historical home in Fort Lauderdale was built around 1900. The man who built it was a rich artist eccentric in the early 20th century. This house was decorated fabulously for the holidays and every night of the week featured wonderful performances and decorations and liquor for an evening. I chose to buy tickets for a wonderful evening of jazz and champagne, plus a walking tour of the home.

Knowing I would be on my feet walking for hours, I knew I would need my wheelchair that evening. I contacted the event organizer and asked if the home was wheelchair accessible. She told me that it was, but that the parking lot was not. I made arrangements for a tram to pick me up in the parking lot. So it was all set and it was a surprise treat for my friend.

We get to the event and indeed the tram was fine; although it felt like I was on Mr. Toad's Wild Ride from Disney World. After loading my wheelchair, we were seated in the back of a deluxe golf cart, and the driver went so fast that my glasses actually flew off my face! I painfully felt every pothole and dip in the one and a half mile trek to the home. The ride back to my car was much better.

Life has a way to humble you; and I had to draw on my sense of humor to enjoy the evening because  I had purchased tickets to the wrong night.  I thought I bought an evening of jazz and champagne. But it was actually an evening with an Elvis impersonator and Old Fashioneds. Wow, what a difference; luckily my friend knew lots of Elvis songs and was having a fun time with it.

So I get to the first room to walk through and I realize it is not wheelchair accessible. I'm a little annoyed that I can't see this room but I move on. My friend was able to enjoy all the rooms. I could not wheel into room one, room two, room three. This historic home was not wheelchair accessible! 

I made a video in front the fourth room that I could not enter. 

All the rooms have a large concrete step and a wooden beam to maneuver to enter and exit. Just then, a staff person overhears me while I am recording and comes to me saying 'oh don't worry I will call maintenance and get the ramp'. After a very loud metal ramp is laid down and a lot of people are not able to enter the room and creating a bottleneck around me, she smiles and tells me now I can enter. But the ramp does not clear the entrance and I am still not able to get in.

At that point, she says they will carry me into the room, bring my wheelchair and carry me out. No way am I up for being a further spectacle. I said "no thank you, I do not want to be carried" She kept insisting and badgering me and now there's a large circle of other attendees trying to get into the room and wondering what the holdup is. I felt very exposed and vulnerable and at one point I have to just say "please leave me alone! I do not want to be carried. I will just make do."

What I was able to maneuver was the courtyard surrounding the entrances to the rooms. They were decorated with wonderfully crafted wreaths and garland donated by design firms in the community as well as artists. Luckily, there was one room that did not have a stair, nor a beam and I was able to go into it. Yay! It was the artist's studio! Exactly the room I wanted to see most. As a painter, I love seeing how others work in their studios and this was no disappointment. 100+ years later and I'm looking at the artist's palettes, drawings and paintings. The docents were full of wonderful anecdotes. 

By then I was on my second old-fashioned and being a cheap drunk, I was feeling good. My friend roamed the house and I was parked, talking to the staff, and having a good time now. I made it work. But I left with a feeling of being left out, especially when I was assured the home was wheelchair accessible. 27 years after Share a Smile Becky and I am also not able to visit this dream house.

I do not think the event organizer meant to lie to me. But it is absolutely not OK that I was expected to call maintenance for every room and have that person bring a metal ramp. And the worst error was that the ramp was not even put in place beforehand to see if it cleared the doorway. It did not.

If someone has to call for help to enter a room, then it is not accessible. Accessible would mean every room would have a ramp, installed permanently, that allowed a wheelchair to easily enter and leave.

I plan on writing the organizer and sharing my bad experience as well as what I enjoyed about the evening. I do not want my money back. I know how hard it is for nonprofits and I want these old historic homes to thrive with attendance. Just do better.