“Where you go again?” the driver asks as he screeches to a halt before the light flashes red ahead of us. When my head springs back onto my neck I give him a smile, wondering if any other riders of this short bus understand that we’re in captivity with a very radical driver, who’s possibly a dog lover and republican.

“I’m going to The Godfrey, sir.”

“oh! is that hotel?” the driver asks sincerely. I retract my statement about being a dog lover. He’s definitely asexual.

I am on my way to The Godfrey in Chicago, a place I am sure, that’s packed with people who know how to be fancy and high class, whereas I know how to be lower middle class. Before this trip, I even looked up classy in the dictionary so that way I could have all the knowledge I’d need to blend into this wholesome environment.

I am staying at The Godfrey thanks to the wonderful folks in the PR department. Their emails were shiny and it didn’t include anything about going libertarian so I accepted the days that they chose for me.

Bouncing along the cold Chicago streets, I wonder what a fancy hotel will have. I’m sure it will have room service and a host of ebony men who I can’t flirt with because they are on the job. I wonder how much accessibility features this hotel will have though. I don’t know. I have saved all of the links the PR department gave me a few days ago to look at after the stay, to see if everything adds up, as if I am the singular soul who can judge accessibility. I know I can’t be that singular person, however, simply because I don’t have the best looking hair and the disability community needs excellent hair to represent them.

Finally, after a few more lurches and tire squeals, the spunky driver tells me that we have, indeed, arrived at The Godfrey hotel. My heart doesn’t understand this yet because it begins to pump even faster, as if I am facing immediate death.

As soon as the driver opens the door to the short bus, a bellman materializes out of thin air, sticks his head in and asks for a Mr Kingett. I spring up like I am in a drill line and ready my bags, a backpack and a short suitcase. The bellman helps me down the steps and I tap alongside him to the entrance of the hotel, where I’d be housed for two days. He’s exceptionally friendly. I wonder if he knows that I eat meat.

We’re very chatty going to the front desk, where I am checked in by a man named Frank. When my stay is confirmed, I am taken to my room.

The Godfrey is a hotel, not of mystery and intrigue, but comfort. Even though my good eye is swiveling to the left and the right, as I am wondering where we’re going, unable to see in the dim hall lighting, the carpet is so fluffy and soft that I don’t even hear our footfalls as we step towards an elevator that doesn’t talk. The elevator whisks me up to my floor. Soon, I am marveling at how easy it is to slide the key card in and I am soon in my sanctuary.

Once I am in my room, the adventure begins. Tapping my way along the carpeted floor, I pass by a small counter with empty wine glasses on it. A pitcher of water rests beside the glasses, begging to be sipped. I am utterly amazed that I haven’t done anything radical, like dance around my plush room.

Naturally, I want to find the most important arsenal in a travelers toolkit. The thermostat. This proves to be quite the challenge, as I don’t have any knowledge of what the thermostat looks like. It also, doesn’t talk, so I can’t quite just randomly mash buttons I find on panels around my apartment, for fear that I will cause the hotel to be on the evening news.

For some reason, my quest takes me into a brightly lit bathroom, where, I am very pleased to see that there’s epic smelling shampoo resting in a tidy beaker on the sink. The floor is a dark mahogany, which provides wicked contrast, all the more better when I am hunting for my sock I am sure I will lose when I get out of the shower tonight. This bathroom has everything I’d expect to see in a bathroom for the disabled. Bars that look as if this is a training Dojo rather than a place to read books, an easy to open shower door, and isolation for when tone deaf people start singing.

I exit the bathroom again and browse for the thermostat in my plush room. It has to be here somewhere, it just has to be in here somewhere.

Though I don’t find it, I set my mind to checking out the hotel after connecting to their wireless network. I am amazed that I don’t have to squint too much walking down the hallways. The halls stretch and curve, with speckled dots of tiny bulbs just above my head. While they don’t light up the hall enough to where I can navigate by sight, there are big patches of light near the elevator. This definitely helps in navigating.

My stay at the hotel is quiet. As I rest in my room, walk around the hotel, and meet some very interesting people without life insurance, it is soon Sunday morning and I have to leave. I am even more amazed at how lost I became resting in the bed, and dining in their open restaurant.

The restaurant, I am proud to say, is delicious. I didn’t make it to breakfast, but I did make it to lunch and dinner, where I feasted on every type of burger from the traditional cheese burger to a delicious French burger with blue-cheese that made me moan aloud, making people wonder if I have life insurance.

Sunday rolls around sooner than I’d like, and I soon have to pack up and leave my epic room, complete with a crafty thermostat. As I approach the elevators, ready to depart, I thwack a woman in sandles who smells as if she took a dip in chocolate.

“oh. Excuse me.” I say. “I’m sorry. I’m just trying to get on the elevator.”

“yeah. You and the rest of us kid.”

“what do you mean the rest of us?” as soon as I ask that question, I look around to see that the hall is filled with people. We’re stuck on the tenth floor.

We stand there for twenty minutes more, me wishing I had life insurance, before I address the crowd.

“I have an idea! Why don’t we take the stairs!” even though my CP will kill me as a thank you for walking down stairs, I don’t want to stay rooted in this hallway forever. Luckily, everyone agrees with my logic and soon, we are off to the stairs.

The stairs are what freaks me out. They are very thin, and small, and everywhere is white. The sun streams in flooding our skin with a wash of light as we descend. Behind me, a black guy watches me like a hawk in case I fall down or look like I will fall down.

Finally, we reach the bottom.

“alright dudes!” a black guy says as he readies his key card. “this should work!” with a flourish, he swipes the key card against the machine. Nothing happens.

“what’s going on?” I inquire.

Looks like my card don’t work!” he exclaims sounding as if he’s surprised the Easter Bunny doesn’t exist. A blonde woman tries. Nothing. I try. Nothing. Now, we’re stuck in a stairwell.

We whip out our cells and try to get signal. I don’t know about anybody else, but I don’t have any signal, nor life insurance. The few who do manage to get signals place a futile call to the managers of the hotel, asking for a rescue and why none of our keys work. As it turns out, keys only work on our floor we’re assigned.

It’s a good twenty minutes before we are rescued. As the time passes, I chat with Jake, the black guy who stood behind me going down the stairs. He is a music agent. There’s woman who thinks I am adorable, and she makes me blush. There’s another black guy who flirts with me in the stairwell and I exchange emails with him. There’s a woman who’s hysterical and believes we’re locked in here permanently. She has life insurance.

When all of us are rescued, we race to the brightly lit circular lobby. I admit, compared to getting good life insurance, and meeting epic people in a stairwell, I am glad I chose the latter this weekend. The accessibility is something to behold, certainly, but the adventure is much better. Better than the dashing food and striking black managers who work there.

I think the hotel should change it’s motto to “stairs are but an adventure.” it would be accurate, and better still, it would be a clever hint to the fun someone could have at the Godfrey hotel;.

Back when I was seven, many things were accessible, and if they weren’t, my grandmother would help make them so.

Not being able to see, my primary way of learning was through reading, touching objects, and listening to explanations. Of course, all my other remaining senses came into play, but hearing and touch were, and are, my primary link to the world not constructed by books.

Even though I had never heard the word Accessibility, I was an early adopter of its concept.

One day, my grandmother took me to a museum that was new in town. It was different from the ones we frequented, and I was very eager to feel exotic artefacts under my fingertips, and experience paintings through verbal descriptions given to me via headset. I eagerly speed-walked with my grandmother into the museum, my stomach full with butterflies over the soon-to-be.

When the tour started, I could sense the body heat of a dozen people beside me. I waited for my grandmother to take me to the artefact so I could explore it. She didn’t. I began to tune into the many exclamations beside me describing how wonderful the artefact was. Why was it so wonderful? I wanted to know too! I wanted to feel it and see what people were talking about. I soon began to cry, and people’s feet shuffled as they turned and stared at me. With steely resolve, my grandmother picked me up and pushed her way to the front of the crowd with my white cane dangling in my grip. When she reached the front, she ducked under the rope and placed my hand on the elegant statue carved with dynamic symbols. People started complaining that a sign said ‘Don’t Touch’. Soon, a stern sounding man cleared his throat next to me.

“Miss? I’m the manager here.”

I felt the air whoosh as my grandmother whipped around. With slicing syllables, she told the manager:

“If you tell my blind grandson to take his hands off this statue, I will take every ‘Don’t Touch’ sign down and burn them all. I will then tell the police what I did and sue you for lack of accessibility.”

nineteen years have passed since then, and I have heard and witnessed countless instances in which companies and people just don’t exert any will to include the blind and the visually impaired whatsoever, unless forced by law.

The Americans with Disabilities Act was a huge breakthrough for our inclusion, but it didn’t merge us with the sighted world. People didn’t want to include us, so often we had to go to special groups, events, and even jobs for the blind. We also had to fight for education as well. Entertainment was, and still is an issue accompanying all the other accessibility barriers.

It took a law in 2010 to make Audio Description available on television. Before the 21st Century Communications and Video Accessibility Act, we couldn’t watch movies, TV shows, or any visual media with audio description as frequently as today. Audio Description is as important to us as closed captioning is for the Deaf. It opens up a whole new mode of entertainment that we’ve never been able to experience before.

However, there are still a lot of companies that don’t want to offer it, and are not forced to by law. Many of these companies reside in the internet realm, a place the law hasn’t even scratched yet. Audio Description is available on TV, and more DVDs, and even more movie theatres. The law applies to the top 25 TV networks now but will increase.

But even with all this inclusion, no Video on Demand service, such as Netflix and Hulu, has Audio Description.

I’ve wondered why Netflix won’t provide Audio Description, or even accessible interfaces so that our adaptive software can interact with their website and web player fully. I’ve examined this through all different angles, even finding out for myself the cost of describers, and other production costs. It’s not all about cost however. The BBC has shown that cost doesn’t matter when it comes to Accessibility, offering an Audio Description On Demand service through the BBC iPlayer. Many other companies and organisations also show that having audio description on the web is not hard at all. All of these can be found on our audio description on demand page.

It wouldn’t be hard at all to include Audio Description on Netflix. Two methods could be done to achieve this. Closed Audio Description, where the viewers would need to select a language track, requiring less bandwidth and less server space on Netflix’s part. There would definitely be downsides to this as well, such as that Audio Description wouldn’t be able to be available on every Netflix compatible device, such as the Nintendo Wii, as the Wii even has a hard time with closed captions.

Another way is to have a separate blind version of the same movie or TV show, like iTunes has it. But this will require that the film or TV show be uploaded twice. From a technical point of view, this would be the easier thing to do, but who knows, the servers might buckle.

For years, the blind community has asked and even begged Netflix to make their site and service accessible, with accessible web design and Audio Description, but Netflix have said “No” repeatedly, and eventually the blindness advocacy groups just give up.

I refuse to give up though. Which is why I started the Accessible Netflix Project.

Our aim for the project:

Netflix is a popular internet streaming and rental service that streams TV shows as well as movies. It also allows subscribers to rent DVDs. The Netflix platform isn’t accessible and that’s what this project aims to change. With the help of the community we will make Netflix a truly accessible place for everyone to enjoy.

The Purpose (Mission)

1. To provide accessible software and interface to Netflix users

Implement and ensure future accessibility practices and consideration

1. Ensure that relatively all types of disability are taken into careful consideration at all times

These are the targets we want to meet

1. Provide a screen reader friendly experience to all Netflix functions on the PC and mobile devices with all screen readers

Provide an easily navigable interface for the mobility impaired using adaptive technology.

1. Provide easy access to audio described content for the blind and the visually impaired on streaming services as well as DVD selection currently and in the future.

Regardless if it’s inconvenient or costly, Netflix should provide Accessibility solutions. Many blind people pay for a service they can barely use, whether they are a novice or advanced Screen Reader user.

It has been a long 2 years since I began the project. So far, they have told us “No”, directly, nine times and counting.

Determined to have the freedom to enjoy Audio Description on the Internet, a place that has become a utility for my work and entertainment needs, I decided to ask them why they said no. The first time, they said that:

“We don’t have control over the content that makes the Audio Description, so we’re not the people who you should be contacting.”

So, I started contacting studios for the next three months, often going through back door connections to get to producers, and explaining the situation. Seth MacFarlane, the producer of Family Guy, a show that has Audio Description on TV, was one of these connections. I wanted to make it as cheap as possible for Netflix, so I asked these producers if they would simply give the Audio Descriptions to Netflix at no charge. Many, including Seth, agreed to this.

I replied to Netflix with the fantastic news, and this was their response:

Hi Robert,

Thank you for being a Netflix fan and for being so passionate about making Netflix more accessible. At this point we have no immediate plans to add Audio Descriptions to our service. We continuously evaluate this and we will let you know if there’s a change, but don’t expect it to come in the near future.

I don’t understand why they’d say no. Even after contacting 56 different people in the company, they all said the same – don’t expect it anytime soon, even with the studio support.

It deeply disappoints and frustrates me that access to a service that’s so accessible to my wallet is impossible for me to use independently, simply because I require adaptive technology. I can’t even manage the site independently, no matter how many advanced keystrokes I learn or new Screen Reader tricks. Blind and visually impaired people shouldn’t be banished to outside sources to get described content. We are millions and millions strong, and our revenue would help grow Netflix. And, small aside, they’d surely be given excellent publicity for being the first mainstream company to do this.

The accessible Netflix project has grown and, with it, we have dedicated team members who will ensure equal access to entertainment simply because it should have been done a very long time ago. There isn’t an excuse anymore as to why this can’t happen. My team and I are here for entertainment equality and we will continue to be for years ahead.

The ADA was meant to include and not divide. Blind people should have reasons to spend their income. We should be able to laugh with glee with our family, enjoying an Audio-Described comedy. We should be able to proudly call ourselves a Netflix customer. My team and I will do whatever we can to ensure everybody gets past the unnecessary velvet rope and touch an accessible Video on Demand service that is accessible to everybody else. I don’t understand why Netflix doesn’t want to give us that inclusion, and I possibly never will, but I do understand one thing for certain – it should happen. It will happen, with our leadership.

I know that sounds really drastic but it is true. Why should we care though? Because, fact is, disabled people need the internet.

There are a lot of things that make me want to question all humanity, simply because it seems that common sense is becoming more and more a luxury than anything else today. Why? Today, I read an article that’s just promoting nothing more than false intentions.

I’m on twitter a lot and I read what my followers post a great deal. When I saw the article about the notion that Verizon was fighting against Net Neutrality to benefit the disabled populace, I didn’t have anything clever to say. I didn’t have a retort to utter. I didn’t even have a tweet to formulate in wake of this. Ladies and gents, there’s simply no other word to describe what they are claiming and the propositions that they claim, other than one. It’s a word that fits all, I believe, given this context and the huge array of just false debauchery that Verizon is trying to cook up.

LIES.

If you have not heard about the FCC and their latest plan to destroy the internet do a Google search for FCC and net neutrality. You will get some really interesting articles that basically outline what their new rules will entail.

It’s a proposal that would ban Internet providers from blocking or slowing down access to websites but may let them charge content companies for faster and more reliable delivery of their traffic to users.

It sounds good on paper and in a simple sentence like that. It’s not. I will briefly explain why.

Anything can be abused, including this new law. Internet service providers (ISPs), like Comcast or AT&T—believe that, as providers of internet access, they should be able to distribute bandwidth differently depending on the service.

They’d prefer, for example, to create tiers of internet service that’s more about paying for priority access than for bandwidth speeds. As such, in theory, they could charge high-bandwidth services—like Netflix, for example—extra money, since their service costs more for Comcast to provide to its customers—or they could charge users, like you and me, extra to access Netflix. They can also provide certain services to you at different speeds.

For example, perhaps your ISP might give preferential treatment to Hulu, so it streams Hulu videos quickly and for free, while Netflix is stuck running slowly (or we have to pay extra to access it). If you don’t think that won’t wrack up a huge bill, you are wrong.

How many people use cell phones and access Facebook, twitter, Netflix, ETC. This will affect everything that’s connected to the internet and they can all have a separate charge attached for that device to access websites and content.

This will also affect your tablets, game systems, ANYTHING that is hooked up to the internet. Knowing the USA, those fees can be taxed. enough said.

Imagine that Verizon or AT&T don’t like the idea of Google Voice, because it allows you to send text messages for free using your data connection. Your cellphone carrier could block access to Google Voice from your smartphone so you’re forced to pay for a texting plan from them. Or, they see that a lot of people are using Facebook on their smartphone, so even if they have the bandwidth to carry that traffic, they decide to charge you extra to access Facebook, just because they know it’s in high demand and that they can make a profit.

Obviously this will be great for people who have money spilling outa their pockets and who live in a financial bubble ignorant of the rest of us but I don’t think the FCC remembers that not everyone has money, If this rueling gets past it will ban some disabled people from using the internet. Let’s be real here.

Take SSI. How much is your internet bill per year now and how often do people on SSI rely on the internet and websites that host special content like Facebook, for social collaboration and school websites that often hold YouTube videos, which can have a steep price on it too on top of your internet bill if net neutrality is killed.

People on SSI or even SSDI won’t be able to pay all of that, given the fact that disabled people use the internet more than anything else for more than just socializing. People host teleconferences on Facebook, promote goods on blogs, the list goes on and I should not even have to point these out.

These ISP;s certainly won’t remember that not everyone has money because they want to have the money and they will want to have the money that they think they should have any way that they can get it, including charging people like you and I to use an email provider that isn’t with your default ISP like, for example, if you’re using Comcast and you look at your Gmail. Comcast could charge you to access Gmail even though Gmail is free.

The reason why blind people use Gmail is that it offers a lot of customization. For example, it offers free IMAP and POP3 access to mail clients. Yahoo does not.

This is why I say that Verizon is spewing illogical banter. There’s a stereotype about us Americans that say, frankly, we are greedy.

Verizon and Comcast really want to have this new rueling passed just so they can get more money and the fact that Verizon is using disabled people as a valuable excuse to justify why they want to kill Net Neutrality just so they can have more money really makes me, well, disappointed at my own country.

Hears the claim Verizon makes. Without a fast lane, disabled Americans could get stuck with subpar service as Internet traffic increases.

The issue that’s a constant problem isn’t even about the speed of access but, rather, the simple act of accessing something. I don’t understand how this will help us access something such as a website that isn’t designed to be accessible or obtaining some key information that’s in an accessible element on the inaccessible or partially accessible website. Since the internet often has inaccessible websites, even today, we would just turn to the phone, or, in my case, text one of my minions to look something up for me, adding a winking smiley at the end just because. The issue of speed doesn’t even culminate into a logical fit within this particular claim, if people really knew about screen readers and magnifiers and such. Instead of slower speeds dolling out a subpar service it’s the incomplete and botched content that we cannot access because developers didn’t make whatever accessible.

If there were, indeed, a way for ISPs to create two lanes of internet access, one slow, with costs to use all these demanding sites like Netflix and such, and one fast, combined with services like Facebook, it would ban a lot of disabled people from accessing some very key information all together all because of costs that would be designated by the ISP and then that would be yet another contender blind and visually impaired activists would have to constantly advocate for.

State rehabilitation will not pay for internet as is, and that’s just one monthly cost to access all websites and services. If this were to actually be enforced people with disabilities wouldn’t have access to certain sites at all because of the high costs that will, without a doubt, be determined by the ISP.

This could lead to loss of employment, fewer educational opportunities because this will affect schools too, and overall fewer productivity and would make the unemployment rate for disabled people increase because a lot of disabled people work from home, using many sites and services every day that wouldn’t be able to be accessed because, oh no! The bill is really high!

Speed is not the issue and it infuriates me that Verizon even uses that as a claim. If people know about screen readers, magnifiers, and accessibility issues with software and sites then they will see right through this fallacy. If they don’t know about disabled people and access technology it would be a simple conclusion that would make sense in their minds even though its hugely false, that speed would help us.

Access is an issue but the irony is access would be an even bigger issue, coupled with taxes and stuff, I’m sure, will be added onto these extra speed costs and costs to access content, thereby bridging the disabled homeless and otherwise on an even wider separation all because of money. Access won’t be an issue, it will morph into a barrier, one that will always be up.

This is just for work. Could you only imagine how disabled people wouldn’t have access to sites like twitter, where news is happening all day, every day? Oh my god!I don’t even want to entertain that nightmare.

I just cannot believe that Verizon would even say such a disingenuous thing. It won’t help disabled people at all. It would ban some from even using the internet, even some who are not disabled. I don’t think people who work at these companies know that not everyone works at Verizon or otherwise, but hey, in America, it’s all about the money. It’s all about the money.

It’s the sentence, “I need that.”

A dictionary has many definitions for the word need. Until October, when I decided to take up a challenge by a friend to not use any Internet for a whole month, I didn’t really understand what I needed or even why I needed it.

In September 2014, the sun speckled the ground with bursts of bright light even though the weather was cold in Chicago. I was sitting in a park with an engineer friend of mine, stealing his fries as we talked about the internship that I applied for but didn’t make. The topic nestled into the internship miss until, suddenly, he blurted out an exclamation of “oh my god, Robbie, you have GOT to read this!”

And so I did, or rather, listened, having limited vision and everything. It was an article that said that killing net neutrality would help the disabled. Verizon was saying that, if the Internet were split into a fast lane and a slow lane, disabled people would have much better Internet. Naturally, the irony wasn’t lost on me. In most cases, no matter how politically correct people wanted me to be ever since I started saying it, a good portion of the disabled populace were very poor, so the idea Verizon had was just utter nonsense.

“That’s a complete fallacy!” I spluttered, shifting my weight so my good eye could stare at Marcus full on in the face. “That’s just plain wrong!”

“I know,” he agreed, but we ranted and raved for a bit, just to make sure our thoughts were out in the open. Suddenly, though, as I was stealing a fry, he commented, “I have an idea. Why don’t I give you a challenge, you know, like a dare?” I liked the prospect of a dare so I accepted his challenge before having the intellect to ask what it was.

“Why don’t you, as a disabled person, live without the Internet for one month, and this means using Internet in schools and in libraries and the like, don’t use the Internet at all for one month.”

And that’s how it began.

Now, my memoir details my journey of living offline. Through my words and reflections, readers will know what adapting to a new kind of world is like. I was soon swept up in a different world, a world that was inaccessible to me and a world that I had to learn how adapt to, on my own since I live in an apartment complex by myself. I really did learn the difference between needing something and wanting the convenience of something.

I assumed I was going to do the everyday things that people did, such as walk outside, even though it was starting to get cold in Chicago. I thought my entries were going to be filled with sentences outlining what I did, rather than what I’d think about and declarations and observations of people. I thought that I’d write more about what I did and why I did it, rather than my observations about the Internet-less life and how it changing everything from communication to education to human interaction.

In the memoir, many aspects of life are examined. Why? Because I had a lot more free time to share with myself. The memoir is a diary that’s intimate and allows for a glimpse into the human psyche before being connected to everyone.

Living offline changed me in many ways that I didn’t even see coming. For the first few days, I needed to get online, I wanted to look up something. I wanted to type in the commands and the search strings that would get me exactly what I wanted, how I wanted it, where I wanted it. Without that power, for a few days, I was utterly lost because I didn’t know how to cope after that power had been taken away.

Even though I felt as though I was going to back down on the first few days, I gave it a shot still, and kept on with the challenge.

The fact is, the Internet is a requirement, especially for the disabled. I experienced much frustration simply because I could no longer do something so basic, such as hooking up a landline phone because I couldn’t download the manual from the website. I had to rely on the sighted population more than I have ever needed to.

This is because there isn’t as much accessible information offline as there is on the Internet. On the Internet I can look up any news I want to look up or any manual, for that matter. Take news content: Writers are not filtered by space and advertising columns so they can pepper the Web page with in-depth reporting and I could read it all.

Mainstream offline media doesn’t tell you about all the news that’s happening or the kind of topics people want to know. The fact is, people want to know. On the radio and TV everything is delegated by space and time. When you have limited options to get information, information becomes a need, not a luxury. I had to cope with losing that by asking more questions from other people and relying on their answers. Sometimes, it was effective. Other times, it left me feeling as if I was being denied information simply because I didn’t use the Internet.

We live, however, in a world that needs the Internet. I learned that the hard way when I didn’t get hired for a job because I couldn’t use the Internet. It really has shocked me how it’s turned into an unclassified utility. Sure, apartment owners are saying it is a utility but not the government, not the people higher up. It should be. Why? Because I know what it’s like, as a disabled person, to live without the Internet for one month. A disabled life without Internet is not a completely independent world. The Internet breaks down barriers, even if we can’t see them.