One blind, blonde technology-challenged diabetic’s viewpoint.
This is long. And I do apologize. But, it did me good to write it, to get some things off my chest. I urge you to please take the time to read it all, especially if you haven’t got a disability to call your very own. I hope it’ll make you think—really think about what accessibility means.
Let me start by saying that I am a huge Microsoft fan. I have been my whole computing life. I have the utmost respect and, dare I say, “love” for all things Microsoft.
So, please note that my suggestions are based solely on my own personal needs. I am in no way attempting to speak for everyone with visual disabilities. We are not interchangeable. Our needs are not the same. We are not the same.
I earned my extreme low vision about twenty years ago from a lifetime of living with brittle Type 1 diabetes. (My blind cane is not a fashion accessory….) So, technology—I’m speaking of assistive technology here—gives me the tools I need to live my life and run my itty-bitty business.
However, these assistive tech programs are not cheap. The one I use is about $400. (GASP!) And it’s somewhere in the low- to mid-range price of low-vision programs. So, recently, when it came time to replace both my desktop and my ancient assistive software, big, red, honking dollar signs began flashing. Even I could see them and it was not good.
So you can imagine how happy I was when I learned that Windows 7 has built-in “ease of access” features, including some for low vision.
Finally! No additional expense for a separate program. This was music to my fiscally-responsible ears. I couldn’t wait to get my accessible baby home and give her a-go. Get my business back up and running lickety-split. No problem, right?
Well, to put it mildly, not exactly. These are not low vision accessibility tools*. They’re “Oops, I left my glasses in the other room and don’t want to go get ‘em” options. A convenience for folk without a disability. Not accessibility. There is a BIG difference.
So, what happened here? I don’t know. I’ve pondered this deeply, and, although I could just rant on and on about how disappointed I am—I do have quite a talent for that—I decided to turn my anger into something positive.
I want to offer constructive suggestions to Microsoft—well, actually to any company interested—for making more accessible products. Ways the corporate world can avoid letting their “needy” customers down, as they let me down in this case.
The key to giving us people with disabilities access:
It doesn’t matter what new thingamabob you’re putting out that’s supposed to be geared for us, you’ve got to ask us, listen to us and take the time to get it right.
The common-sense approach to accessibility:
1. Ask lots and lots of us people with disabilities a simple question: “Hey, what features would m`ake using this product easier for you?”
2. Really listen to us. Use our knowledge and our “hands on” involvement. Let us help you develop your product so that it is really and truly usable for us. (And, don’t you dare try to tell us what we need.)
3. Let us test your product and use our feedback to make earnest improvements every step of the way. (It’s a continuous process.)
4. Accept our final word as to whether your product is “accessible”. If we say it’s not, repeat steps 1 through 3 as often as needed to make it so.
5. Make no changes after we’ve given our “stamp of approval”. If you do, you’re likely to take away the accessibility of your product.
Why most of the corporate world doesn’t get or get to accessibility:
In a nutshell: Companies let people without disabilities decide whether a product or feature is accessible or not.
People without a disability can’t recognize when something is not accessible. What I mean is that they have no way of knowing if something is accessible or not. They also can’t turn something that’s inaccessible into something that is accessible for the same reason. Sadly, most don’t realize that they are unqualified to handle these tasks. Not without the disabled community’s help.
I don’t care if you’re the CEO, CFO, LMNOP, or just a well-meaning computer programmer—if you don’t have whatever need is not being met, your opinion on how to make a product accessible for someone with that need doesn’t matter. Not at all. Not ever. You should not be the decision-maker here; but, oftentimes you are. And that’s a shame. And a disappointment.
People with disabilities are the only ones who can help you get to an accessible product. Our decisions are the only ones that matter.
Developing an accessible product takes time. But, you are promising something to people so they can live a productive life. Accessibility is a necessity for people like me, not a convenience. And, Microsoft, I’m pretty sure you’ve got the resources to take the time and get it right.
Three obvious flaws that let me know Microsoft didn’t use the common-sense approach to accessibility:
Undersight 1:
The Windows 7 magnifier is not designed to work with Windows 7 high-contrast color themes.
More visually-impaired people than not will need both magnification and high-color contrast at the same time. I do and I’m certainly not the exception.
An opaque high-color contrast theme should have been the default theme for the magnifier. (More in Undersight 2.)
Undersight 2:
The magnifier is designed to work with transparent Windows 7 Aero themes, which are not visually-friendly, at all. This transparency is supposed to allow the user to see what lies beneath the active window. That might be great for someone who doesn’t have a visual impairment; but, it’s visually-confusing if you do. Bits and pieces of words and graphics bleeding through what you’re trying your best to see in the active window…. This is “anti-accessible” any way you look at it.
Again, high-contrast color themes that are opaque (not transparent) would solve this and should be the default for using the magnifier.
Undersight 3:
The magnifier doesn’t work well. Period. The settings are unstable. Even when I tried to use it with the default Aero themes, the magnifier often shifts out of full-screen mode and docks itself at the top two inches of the screen. Nothing else on the screen is magnified. And, there this misplaced magnifier stays (even after reboot) until someone who can see can rescue me. Again, not accessible at all.
All three examples absolutely scream that final decisions on “accessibility” were made by people who didn’t need the features to actually be accessible. Without the need, you can’t know. You just can’t.
So, Microsoft, even though I love ya (and really I do), I can’t approve your “ease of access” features. You didn’t deliver on your promise. Access was denied. I had to look elsewhere to make my computer usable for me.
That required another hefty hit to the credit card, I’m afraid. But, I am extremely grateful to the companies that do provide real accessibility programs, even if they are pricey**. My hat’s off to those of you that deliver on your promises. I wouldn’t have my independence or run my business without you. Thank you. Thank you. THANK YOU.
Most regular (non-disability-oriented) companies out there, not just Microsoft, have got to step up your game. Labeling something “accessible” doesn’t make it so. You can’t just go through the motions, pretending to make something accessible so that you can mark it as done on your Americans with Disabilities Act to-do list.
There’s no such thing as “accidental accessibility”. You’re not going to stumble into it. Get informed by the people with disabilities community before you have the—well, let’s just say—audacity to say that something is accessible for us. (And, Microsoft, if you didn’t mean to offer accessibility, you should have chosen another name. “Ease of access” implies things folk like me take very literally.)
There is no ease. There is no access. These are not intuitive options. They make absolutely no sense to us very real people who need you and your products to do what you claim. As it stands, you offer us access to nothing.
People with disabilities are fighters, every one. But, corporate decision makers shouldn’t make us fight so hard to live our lives. People without disabilities take independence for granted. Those of us with disabilities don’t have that luxury.
Empty promises of accessibility are thoughtless. And it’s such an unnecessary slight. Ask us. Listen to us. Use us. Hire us. We should be the ones to tell you what is accessible. Not the other way around. It’s just common sense. Let us help you to help us. Our needs matter. We matter.
OK, I’m done.
Anita Peacock
Owner/Manager/Designer
229-928-2055
Footnotes:
*Microsoft’s “Ease of Access” suite of features also includes options for people with hearing loss and attention deficit. I do not have either of those disabilities. So, I am not qualified to judge their accessibility.
**Contact the National Federation of the Blind by phone at 410-659-9314 or visit them on the web at http://www.nfb.org/nfb/default.asp if you need help finding quality low-vision assistive technology programs. (In general, you get what you pay for. “Built-in” freebies just don’t cut it.)
