Dear Editor,
I am a wheelchair user. I turned 23 on April 21, and as a birthday present my best friend decided to treat me to the show Nothing to Laugh About 3, which was being held at the National Cultural Centre (NCC) on 24th at 8 pm. Little did we know that Nothing to Laugh About would be more than just a title of the show; it would turn out be a prophecy about our entire evening.
We arrived at the NCC at 7:40pm to avoid a rush and problems with seating. Patrons using wheelchairs are required to use a separate entrance which is equipped with a ramp leading into the auditorium. The door to this entrance is kept locked to prevent unlawful entry into the auditorium, and ushers must be informed that there is a patron using a wheelchair that needs the door to be opened. There was quite a throng of people waiting outside the Centre when we arrived, and my friend proceeded to wheel me near to the main entrance while she went inside to hand over our tickets and ask the ushers to open the wheelchair accessible entrance. I didn’t see her until nearly 45 minutes later.
When she returned I could see that she was visibly upset and she proceeded to tell me whilst pushing me around back where the wheelchair ramp was, that she had been directed to the head usher to inform her that there was a patron in a wheelchair. A senior usher refused to even acknowledge that she had heard my friend who had spent 15 minutes waiting on her. Thinking that she might not have heard her request, my friend once again stated that there was a patron in a wheelchair wanting to come in, to which she harshly replied, “I hear yuh, I hear yuh, she gon’ get in, she gon’ get in.” She then proceeded to clear every other patron before opening the wheelchair entrance or instructing one of the other ushers to do so. When the other patrons were finally through, she then told my friend that we should have come early (please bear in mind that we had been there at 7:40pm). Clearing the other patrons had taken a considerable amount of time and it was almost 8:30pm when my friend came to wheel me to the ramp while recounting her ordeal to me.
As we made our way back to the ramp we had been expecting the head usher to still be at the wheelchair entrance to hold the door open for us. My friend relayed that the senior usher had been annoyed when my friend informed her that she would need to go to the front to get me and bring me around to the back, since she was reluctant to leave me there in the dark . By the time we got there she had already left the wheelchair entrance, and it was impossible for my friend to hold me on the ramp and open the door at the same time. At this point I couldn’t help wondering what the thought process behind the positioning of the door was. You cannot have a door at the end of a ramp (and especially one as steep as the one at the NCC) swing outward. This is dangerous and the opening door can easily swing into the person using the wheelchair sending them rolling backwards down the ramp. Even with my brakes in place, because of the gradient of the ramp I wouldn’t have been able to keep myself on while my friend went to open the door. So with some difficulty she held on to the arm rest of my chair with one hand and pried open the very stiff door with the other. After peering inside the crack of the door she managed to spot a female patron and asked her to hold the door open while she pushed me inside.
Once we were in we proceeded to make our way down the aisle to our seats. A female usher began following us and showed us to row ‘O’ where we once again met with the senior usher. We were unable to get seats near the aisle to allow easy transfer from my wheelchair to the theatre seats, but as I can walk for very short distances with support, this didn’t prove too much of a problem. Our seats were O-19 and O-20, and I climbed out of my wheelchair, held onto the backs of the seats in front of me and began cautiously making my way towards my seat. Since I use my arms to propel my chair I would usually carry such objects as my purse and digital camera on my lap.
My friend had taken these objects from me to allow me to get to my seat, and she had also removed the special cushion I use to sit on to place on the theatre seat. She was waiting for me to sit down so she could hand these items to me, but the senior usher kept telling her, “Move the wheelchair, move the wheelchair, people want to pass!” My friend was incredulous and asked her how could she be expected to move the wheelchair when her hands were full of our things? Her response to this was to storm off to another usher. This woman’s behaviour toward us once again conveyed that she considered us to be second-class patrons and that her primary concern was the welfare of the other patrons in the theatre.
After I sat down my friend handed our things to me and then went to put my wheelchair away. The show had already started but I could not concentrate on the first skit after I noticed that my friend was taking what seemed like a long time to simply roll my chair to the back of the Centre. When she returned she told me that instead of being allowed to place my wheelchair in the back of the auditorium next to another wheelchair we had seen, she was made to place it in a “tray.” My disability causes dwarfism and I am below 4′ in height. As a result I use a very small wheelchair which is collapsible and folds to more than half its size. There was no conceivable reason for us not to be allowed to place my wheelchair at the back of the auditorium. My friend related that the senior usher did not even tell her where the “tray” was so she went in search of another usher to find out. This usher wasn’t even aware of there being a tray for wheelchairs and told her to just park my wheelchair next to the other one. My friend not wanting further conflict with the senior usher, however, said that she was instructed to place it in the tray. After locating the senior usher, my friend was directed to a narrow wooden rectangle that was built between to pillars behind the last row of seats. I’m pretty sure it was one of the panelled boxes that had been built for decorative purposes and had held sand, except this one had been emptied out. There is no way for someone to roll a wheelchair into the tray and as it is close to a foot or more in height you have to lift it over. As my friend struggled with trying to lift my chair, the usher who had instructed her to park at the back came to her aid.
I can’t tell you how much this ruined the rest of our evening. It was hard to find anything to laugh about after the unfair treatment we had received. The senior usher’s attitude and behaviour towards us was rude, unprofessional, hostile and discriminatory. Her manner suggested that having to attend to us was going far beyond her job description and that she was doing us the world’s biggest favour by letting us in at all.
So much so that even during the show’s intermission we hesitated for several minutes before going outside to the lobby to buy drinks and use our camera to take pictures because it might possibly mean incurring the wrath of the senior usher by removing my wheelchair from the “tray” and running over the many invisible patrons she didn’t want us to park next to at the back of the auditorium. Eventually, we decided to chance it. My friend ran to quickly retrieve my wheelchair, and then feeling rather like two guilty children sneaking off to do something naughty before their mother caught them instead of two grown adults who had paid to see the show, we sped off into the lobby, took a few pictures then sped back to our seats.
This sort of behaviour is unacceptable, especially when it comes from a senior official of the NCC. Patrons with disabilities and their friends/companions deserve to be treated with dignity and respect, and not made to feel that their presence is a nuisance or a burden. The NCC has much improvement to be made in the area of customer relations, especially when it comes to sensitization on persons with disabilities. They need to reconsider their procedures for seating patrons with disabilities. Adopting a procedure which makes them the first to be seated and the last to exit would make things a whole lot less complicated. And if implemented it needs to be taken seriously. Additionally when it comes to seating an individual using a wheelchair, I have experienced first hand in other countries that some theatres have specially designated spots for wheelchair users where there is just empty floor space for a chair to be rolled into. Or sometimes considering that wheelchair users might want to sit with companions, seating may be arranged in the last row where there is an alternation of a seat and then empty floor space for the person using a wheelchair to sit beside their chosen companion.
Furthermore, the ramp at the NCC poses a serious threat to those using it. The door should be made to swing inwards instead of outwards. Ideally, a much less steep ramp that allows access to the main entrance would be preferable. Taking length into consideration, the ramp does not have to be a ‘straight-run’ ramp like the one that exists now. Ramps can also be made so that they have turns and landings on different levels.
With proper consultation on building codes and specifications, persons with disabilities, and with disability persons’ organizations (DPOs) there is a lot the NCC can do to become more accessible not just for wheelchair users but for persons with many other different types of disabilities. Persons with disabilities want to be able to come out and enjoy the cultural aspects of Guyanese society, and if the NCC truly represents an organization that promotes cultural development for our entire nation, it must enable this as much as possible. This is something the management and staff of the NCC need to immediately address.
I have to say that our experience left me sceptical of attending any other shows at the NCC, but it has taught me one very valuable lesson: sometimes a person’s attitude can be the most disabling thing of all. On that night my biggest handicap was not my inability to walk or run or climb stairs; it was simply how I was treated by one usher.
Yours faithfully,
(Name and address provided)
Editor’s note
We sent a copy of this letter to the Administrative Manager of the National Cultural Centre, Mr Fred Christian, for any comment he might have wished to make, but received no response.
