Showing posts with label Vancouver. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Vancouver. Show all posts

Monday, October 3, 2011

[Video]: ICORD Resource Centre opening

Have you ever been past the colourful building on West 10th Avenue at Willow Street at the Vancouver General Hospital area and wondered what it was?

It is the Blusson Spinal Cord Centre; recently, it opened its brand new resource centre for people with spinal cord injuries and other disabilities. Priority Seating was there:

Saturday, August 13, 2011

Invisible/subtle disabilities and transit: Not always a good mix!

As a wheelchair user, there are certain perks on public transit. The most obvious one is that we usually get loading priority as well as first dibs on the space at the front of the bus. It does not matter if there is a stroller or a walking person already in that place -- we trump everyone else.

The general hierarchy is generally, from top to bottom: wheelchair users, people with disabilities, the elderly, and those with strollers. To be honest, sometimes I do not feel very good about this hierarchy because it sometimes puts some people who actually need or deserve the priority seats at a disadvantage.

Before I go further, I have a confession to make. I can walk.

Okay, I cannot walk very well and it takes a lot out of me in terms of strength, energy and stamina (not to mention there is a significant risk of losing my balance and falling). But as long as I'm wearing my leg braces (sometimes accompanied by crutches), concentrating hard and going slowly, I can walk to a certain extent.

However, people often do not realize that not all wheelchair users are unable to walk. Some just have great difficulty walking or find that they cannot function fully without the use of a wheelchair or other assistive devices. Some may not need those devices but may have other limitations that restrict their physical abilities.

Where am I going with this? The other day, I boarded a 16 bus in downtown Vancouver heading towards Arbutus. A passenger boarded the bus and from my angle, it was quite obvious that she had some sort of condition that affected her muscles (my best guess was cerebral palsy). She had some difficulty with balance standing on board a jerky trolley bus and since her hands were affected, holding on to a pole was possible but still not optimal.

Since it was during peak hours, the bus filled up quite quickly and at one point, several elderly passengers came on board. Some healthy-looking young people did not surrender their seats for some reason (some were immersed in their Blackberries and some were even sleeping). Eventually the young woman gave up her spot since nobody else was doing it.

As the bus started to move, she tried to hold on to a pole but had difficulty doing so since the bus was absolutely packed. Since I was paying attention, it was obvious that it would be better for safety if she had a seat. However, people are so accustomed to giving their seats to people who are either visibly aged or use mobility devices that she was more or less ignored or overlooked.

Since there was a fold down seat in front of my wheelchair spot that would not impede me and I was getting off near the end of the route anyway, I immediately folded it down so I can offer it to her. Right away, someone thought, "Oooooh! A seat!" and tried to take the seat for himself. I had to assert myself at that point and say it was specifically for that woman. It was interesting how confused everyone looked; they did not understand why she would need a seat, until many stops later and after much visual scrutiny.

This is not the first time I've seen someone with an invisible or subtle disability ignored or overlooked. The most common situation in this category is younger people with conditions requiring more subtle assistive devices, such as a blind cane or walking cane. (Yes, some younger people have to use canes to get around too.) Theoretically they could ask for a seat, but this is Canada. We are often almost too polite to ask.

I guess the point of this story is to show that while it is a challenge to take public transit as a wheelchair user, it is a million times more challenging to do it as someone with an invisible or subtle disability because those people are often seen as "able-bodied" even if they use certain assistive devices. So if you are young and able-bodied and sitting on a priority seat, please stay alert (and awake) and be on the lookout for anyone who may need it.

P.S. -- other points:
  • Even for wheelchair users, some people actually do not realize that they need to give up their seats. I have had to be assertive and actually tell them what to do (no matter how obvious it may be).
  • I have tried going on public transit without a wheelchair before, wearing leg braces and using crutches. Not impossible but not something I ever want to do again.
  • If you're young and able-bodied, please do not fall asleep in the priority seats. How do you know if someone needs them if you're unconscious?
  • Know your bus: it makes things a lot smoother if you notice where the wheelchair seating spots are on the particular bus that you are on, so you know if you need to move.

Saturday, May 14, 2011

Staying safe

One of the biggest challenges of being a wheelchair user is safety. Something as simple as navigating through a parking lot can be a challenge because if you have to cut through some parking spots, some people can't see you because people are shorter when seated. Same for crossing the streets -- some drivers' instincts are tuned towards people walking, not people rolling.

Similarly, staying safe on public transit is also a challenge for wheelchair users. However, there are some cases I've come across in the TransLink system where safety is not taken into account and could result in serious consequences.

One of the things that happen the most often is bus drivers taking off before passengers in wheelchairs are secured. My most recent incident was last week on the 99 B-Line. I boarded the bus, but the driver was more concerned about his schedule than safety. There was certainly not enough time for me to secure myself before the bus took off; in addition, one of the belts turned out to be broken, leaving me in a precarious situation for my trip. Through the whole trip, the driver was in a mad rush.

Now, I understand drivers needing to stick to a schedule but the potential consequences of an injury or incident due to disregarding safety would dwarf any problems you would have from simply being late. I'm lucky enough to have full hand and arm function but some wheelchair users do not and if they were in my situation, something would have likely happened and the driver would have been in big trouble.

Another common situation I find is on community shuttles. Some shuttle drivers don't use any straps or restraints for wheelchair users, which is apparently a big no-no. I actually did not know this until recently because a) I don't take shuttles often and b) no driver offered restraints or straps. But a few weeks ago when I went to the Vancouver Ability Expo in Yaletown, the shuttle driver took them out and started putting them on.

According to him, shuttle drivers are required to use the straps and restraints. For both trips using shuttles that day, the restraints were used. They take slightly longer than belts and straps on a regular bus but for me, the delay was not by much at all. I wonder how much time was actually "saved" on my previous strapless and restraintless trips.

I don't know if this is a thing going on with the South Surrey shuttles (which my previous trips were on) or if the Vancouver shuttles are more strict about safety. But South Surrey and White Rock shuttle routes are a lot steeper and turbulent, and probably need the restraints more than the Vancouver shuttle routes I've taken.

In a way, I'm surprised more incidents haven't occurred. But I guess if I had an incident happen to me, I'd be hesitant or scared to take transit again. It makes me wonder how many have been scared off conventional transit as a result. So much for integrating people with disabilities into society.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Patience is a virtue

Last night, I was waiting on Granville Street downtown for a bus. It was really cold so when the bus came, I was a bit antsy to get on.

Apparently someone else was even antsier.

I'll call him Impatient Businessman. When the front doors opened, he stepped aside. The driver started deploying the wheelchair ramp. When the ramp was at an approximately 90 degrees' angle from the ground, Impatient Businessman somehow lost his patience and stepped forward to enter the bus, only to find that the ramp was about to lower on to him. Genius.

So the ramp finally came down and I started to get on the bus. For some reason, after I had one full push of my wheels, Impatient Businessman somehow saw it fit to push my wheelchair from behind in a rush to get on.

For the uninitiated, there are several reasons why you should never do this. Some are obvious, some are not.


  1. It is dangerous. When I push my wheelchair, I am in control. Because most non-temporary wheelchair users have custom-built wheelchairs, they can predict exactly how their chairs will behave in certain situations. If someone suddenly exerts force on the chair unexpectedly, the wheelchair becomes unpredictable and the wheelchair user may get hurt; for example, the unexpected change in speed may get his/her fingers caught in the rear wheels' push rims. In some cases, the center of gravity may be affected and the wheelchair may tip.
  2. It is degrading. Assuming we need assistance without asking is degrading and rude. It is similar to other prejudiced assumptions in other situations, like assuming Asians don't speak English. It is okay when the situation clearly calls for it, but the general golden rule is if we need help, we will ask for it.
  3. Touching someone's wheelchair is like touching someone's body. While it is true that the wheelchair isn't part of our bodies, it should be treated as such when it comes to touching and proximity. Impatient Businessman's behavior is basically the equivalent of someone shoving you from behind. Unless authorized, touching someone else's wheelchair is a big no-no.

The general allowances that are made are for drivers, who sometimes help wheelchair users. In this case, it can be seen as them doing their job since ensuring safety is one of their responsibilities, and it's hard to blame them for making sure things are done properly before starting the bus. But note that drivers generally don't push anyone's wheelchairs. There's a reason for that. Too bad Impatient Businessman didn't realize it.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Telling left from right is difficult!

Today, the good folks over at Tales of TransLink posted an interesting piece about bus drivers and how drivers are supposed to yield to them, but sometimes the bus drivers themselves don't follow the rules.

The majority of the bus drivers I've come across are okay for the most part, but that post reminds me of a glaringly dangerous situation I came across a few weeks ago.

I was driving to Richmond from West Vancouver with a friend. We crossed the Lions Gate Bridge and were heading eastbound on Georgia Street. A bus from West Vancouver was in the curb lane, letting out some passengers. Traffic was a bit heavy at the time, so we weren't going that fast.

The bus driver stopped signalling right, so I got ready to yield to the bus if needed. But then it started signalling right again. By the looks of it, it could've been one of those "Sorry, back door please!" situations on the bus. So I inched forward. Suddenly the bus lurched out to my lane, still signalling right. I braked just in time; it was lucky that we were in slow moving traffic, but when you have a 40-foot bus making a move like that, it makes for a scary situation.

The bus, once in front of me, then signalled left. That time, the bus driver really did what he was indicating, and turned to the lef lane. I was starting to think it might've been a brief brain fart on the part of the bus driver before, but then the bus suddenly pulled back to the right into my lane without so much as a signal; it had nearly missed a stop on the right, and had to cut across two lanes to get to it (and cutting me off in the process).

This kind of maneuver is scary for any situation, but that bus could've hit another car easily despite the slow speeds at the time. And if the bus driver managed to hit another car while going no more than 40 km/h, it would definitely be immensely embarrassing for him.

Saturday, November 13, 2010

Why I am glad to see the high-floor buses go

A few weeks ago, photos started popping up on various websites and blogs of the old TransLink-owned New Flyer D40 and D60 buses being dismantled and demolished around Annacis Island. For the uninitiated, these were the high-floor buses that came to the Vancouver area in the early 1990s. Since they came into being, new technology allowed low-floor buses to exist and these new buses, like most other new gadgets, eventually got more love and popularity than the old low-floor buses; today, most of the TransLink bus fleet is of the low-floor variety.

Good riddance.

There are many reasons why I didn't like the high-floor buses. One reason is that they appear to eat up fuel much quicker than their low-floor counterparts; you can tell simply by hearing how hard the engine has to work to move the bus forward a single meter. Another reason is because one of them held me hostage at one point.

It was during my days as a student at UBC. I was on a high-floor bus going up Granville Street towards downtown Vancouver. My plan was to get off at Broadway to switch to a 99 B-Line bus (or a trolley bus if that failed). It was during rush hour, which meant a mixed blessing in Vancouver -- more buses available but also more traffic to contend with.

As most of you are aware, before the Canada Line kicked in, Granville Street at Broadway was one of the most major transit transfer points in Vancouver. So, as evil high-floor buses tend to do, it did something that I really dreaded.

It held me hostage.

What happened? Well, some background information first: high-floor buses offer wheelchair accessibility in the form of a lift, rather than a flip-out ramp like low-floor buses. The lift uses hydraulics, whereas the flip-out ramp is, well, a simple flip-out mechanism. Unlike the lift, the flip-out ramp can be manually flipped out by hand if it is malfunctioning.

So right at the busy bus stop on Granville Street at Broadway, the lift decided to quit. It would stretch out to the sidewalk and go up like it was supposed to, but it wouldn't go down. Wonderful. So on a bus full of commuters during morning rush hour, it froze up like a stage performer caught with his fly open.

The worst part was that I wasn't the only person needing to get off via the lift at that stop; the other passenger needed to get off also. But the lift wasn't moving and the bus wasn't going anywhere. The passengers on the bus were forced to get off and continue their journey on another bus (thankfully the 98 B-Line was still in existence at the time, so they didn't have to wait long) while the other passenger and I were on the bus wondering what to do next.

Another driver, who was off-duty and passing by, came along and the two drivers did everything they could. They kicked at the lift. They fiddled with it. They swore at it. The only thing that they didn't try was make an animal sacrifice to honor the sacred transit god of El Diesel McNovaBus. Eventually a transit supervisor arrived. It seemed like we might have to have the bus towed away or something when the lift suddenly worked!

Of course, it did so after I realized I was going to be massively late for class no matter what.

Did I mention the lift was a stupid pain in the [bleep] piece of [bleep]?

This is the main reason why I stopped trusting high-floor buses. The mechanism for their lifts is pretty complex and if one piece fails, the whole thing might not work. Considering how many moving piece there are, it's easy to see how something might go wrong.

The only vehicles in the TransLink system still using the same lift mechanism are the high-floor Orion V buses that operate on Highway 99 to Delta, South Surrey and White Rock. Those buses are much newer but I hope they don't run into the same problems. (Community shuttles have lifts too but it appears to be a different mechanism.)

Good bye, D40 and D60 high-floors. May your lifts actually work in the afterlife, so I can actually get around there too.

Sunday, November 7, 2010

I hope you leave enough room for my fist...

After making a post about good bus drivers, it sucks that I have to write one about a bad one.

One time, I was heading to the bus stop at UBC Loop. The 44 bus was waiting there, which was perfect since I was heading downtown. I came up to it. The driver was looking straight ahead, preoccupied with something in the distance.

"Excuse me?" I said, trying to get his attention so he can deploy the wheelchair ramp.

"The bus is full," he said, without even looking at me.

I looked at the bus. It was a 60-foot articulated bus. The seats were all taken, but there were only a few standees -- starting from the back, the standees didn't even reach the articulated joint part of the bus. The front part of the bus was devoid of standees. It was NOT full.

"There's plenty of room," I told him.

"The bus is full," he repeated. Again, he didn't even look at me.

Some other passengers were hesitating to get on, unsure of what to do. "Are you getting on?" one of them asked me.

"He said the bus is full."

"It's not full."

"That's what I told him!"

The other passengers, not wanting to miss their bus and not sure what else to do about this, boarded the bus. Some of them told him that I could easily get on. He at least looked at them, but ignored what they said. He then promptly closed the door and drove away.

I was astounded by what just happened. Thankfully there was a transit supervisor on site, at the opposite end of the bus loop. I went up to him and told him what happened. As I did, an off-duty driver came up from behind me. "I saw the whole thing," he said. "There was plenty of room on the bus. He could've easily taken him [which meant me] and a lot of other passengers too."

The supervisor said he would inform the driver when he returns. The off-duty driver's bus wasn't leaving for a while, I guess, and he ensured that I got on the next one. I'm not sure if he was afraid that this incident would make me think badly of the other bus drivers (which would not be something I'd do since it was an individual driver who was the problem), but it was nice of him to do it nonetheless.

After this incident, I was genuinely concerned -- not for me, but for others who might receive the same treatment from this driver. I eventually wrote a letter to Coast Mountain Bus Company about this. I guess they saw it as a serious matter because they had someone call me directly to have a verbal report of the incident (in addition to the written one I sent in).

It was lucky that I was at UBC Loop, where it was a sunny day, where there were many other bus connections available and that I am a capable manual wheelchair user (rather than a power wheelchair user with more limited mobility). I can't imagine if this happened to someone with severe mobility limitations on a late winter night; hopefully this type of incident never happens again.

Saturday, November 6, 2010

Drivers gone wild, in a good way

With so many incidents of bus drivers' bad attitudes, it's easy to overlook the drivers who do extra things to make their passengers' days better. With the hassles of navigating through Metro Vancouver's streets with a giant 40- or 60-foot bus, it's easy to just say "screw it" and stick to driving, and letting the tension of certain incidents build up over time.

However, there are some drivers who use the passengers as fuel to make their jobs and their passengers' rides a lot more enjoyable. I haven't come across nearly enough of these drivers but it's always nice when I do. Here are a couple of them I'd like to share.

On one of the routes connecting UBC to the Kerrisdale area, there was a driver who liked to give the afternoon students a bit of a puzzle before he left the campus. As the bus would leave 16th Avenue towards the "highway" stretch of Southwest Marine Drive, he would give a trivia question on the PA and the passengers would have until 41st Avenue to answer it. The correct answer earns you a candy bar. This is especially nice during midterm times, when students need a chance to unwind after a rough day.

Another driver is one who drove a pre-Canada Line peak hour route connecting downtown Vancouver to Richmond. (I know his name but I won't post it here for privacy reasons.) His route is a tough one, because it involved doing one from downtown to Tsawwassen, then making his way back to downtown to finish the day with the Richmond route. A lot of the passengers on this run knew about it, so we usually cut him some slack whenever he was late. (This type of run was poorly planned by TransLink/Coast Mountain Bus Company to begin with.)

Because his run was one of the last ones of the day, it would get dark whenever he started making his way from Broadway towards Richmond (unless it was summer). He drove an Orion V for that route, so it was really comfortable and a lot of people would sleep during that trip; it made sense to sleep because traffic to the bridge was often nightmarish at that hour. Realizing that, he would do something neat after leaving the Broadway stop -- he would briefly give the day's headlines and then say, "I will be turning off the lights shortly so you can take a nap. The lights will turn back on once we enter Richmond." A lot of people on board that bus really appreciated this gesture.

I also liked him on another level. Because he knew that I often rode his bus, he would actually check to see if the wheelchair lift on the bus was working before accepting it (since the Orion V buses, unlike the regular buses, can't take a wheelchair user if the lift mechanism is broken). And sometimes if he's a bit early and sees me coming, he'd roll out the lift and wait for me. Very nice guy.

Those are the two drivers that really stick in my mind. I'm sure there are many others out there.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Cheese + Whine

One time, I was on a bus leaving UBC Loop heading towards 4th Avenue. It was a typical school day around spring, when final exams are coming in and student anxieties and tensions were high. It was only normal that some students would be going a little crazy. But I didn't expect the craziness to come out on the bus. And in this manner.

Anyways, I was on the bus at the front. It was standing room only, as usual. The bus started to pull out of the bus loop. Suddenly, a student asked to get off. The driver was ready to turn on to Student Union Boulevard (a.k.a. no-man's land when it comes to dropping people off) and said he can't. The student then threw a tantrum.

Yes. A tantrum.

She kept whining about needing to get off. Finally, as the driver was making the left turn from Student Union Boulevard on to Wesbrook Mall, she screamed in the highest pitch ever, "LET ME OFF THE BUSSSSSS!!!" and jumped up and down with both her feet stomping the floor of the bus.

The driver ignored her but eventually did let off her right before we hit Chancellor Boulevard. As soon as she got off, almost everyone on board burst out laughing. It was ironic how one person's exam stress can end up being a de-stressor for everyone else.

At the next stop, a passenger said to the driver, "Well, that was something, huh?" The driver laughed and said, "I have a five-year-old daughter who acts more mature than that!"

And who says people get more mature in university?

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

The Thin Blue Line

"Please stand behind the red line."

That's a phrase that almost all transit users in Metro Vancouver can relate to. It's probably the most often-repeated phrase in this city right after "We are all Canucks" (which is a false statement; I'm not one).

However, there's one that not many people have heard of: "Please stand behind the blue line." What's the blue line? Unlike the red line, it's marked on the wall rather than the ground, and is located approximately behind the first row of front-facing priority seats. Whereas passengers must normally stay behind the red line, passengers are supposedly supposed to stand behind the blue line when a wheelchair bay is occupied.

I'm a wheelchair user and even I wasn't aware of this until recently, when drivers on my buses started to enforce this rule. And this has caused quite a raucous for those who either didn't know the rule or refuse to follow it.

When the bus is crowded, this rule can cause a lot of frustration for those waiting at the stops because the driver would refuse to let people on after a certain point, saying "the bus is full." As you can guess, a lot of people get angry. One of them even tried to throw her bag of groceries at the windshield. (This city is nothing if not a little nuts.) Other reactions include people pointing out the bus number and indicating that they'll remember it and report it.

The people who do get on are often told to move back behind the blue line. A lot of them are confused but usually relent after the driver (or other passengers at the front) point out the blue line. But once in a while, someone decides that the rule applies to everyone except for him.

One day, on the 99 B-Line, the driver decided to enforce the "blue line" rule. He made everyone board via the back doors to make it easier. One guy was angry that the front doors weren't opened, and physically pushed down or aside other passengers to stand at the front.

The driver asked him to stay back but he said, "I have a right to stand here. There's lots of space." The driver informed him that according to regulations, passengers must stand behind the blue line when the wheelchair bay was occupied (it's apparently part of the Safety Code of Canada). The guy refused to even look at the blue line being pointed out. Other passengers at the front seats pointed it out and told him to get back.

Normally there wouldn't be any other people pointing it out but he pissed off a lot of people (such as the people he pushed down earlier). The driver refused to move the bus until he either moved back or got off the bus. The guy eventually did relent, but it was tense there for a moment.

So there I was, the guy in the wheelchair and the cause of the conflict is my mere existence. I hate being caught in these awkward conflicts but once they happen, they're beyond my control. Personally, I don't give a damn if you're ahead of the blue line, as long as people move aside when I get on or off. But if the driver needs/wants to enforce a rule, it's not really in my place to suggest otherwise.

Now this begs the question: why isn't the "blue line" rule made clearer? Let's not look at how reasonable or unreasonable the rule is for a moment, and look at how the rule is so obscure that even I didn't know much about it.

The blue line in question is on the wall, and not on the floor. Everyone knows about the red line because it's on the floor, but when you point out a blue line and people look at the floor, they see nothing. And on the wall, it's a thin dotted line. For the unobservant, you can easily miss it and you can't really blame them for that.

And because of people not knowing about this rule, a lot of conflict and anger arises from this. It's just a matter of time until some well-meaning driver trying to enforce this rule gets hurt as a result of an unruly passenger such as the one on my 99 B-Line ride.

I find that usually when the rules are made clear, passengers tend to obey it without question. But this "blue line" rule definitely causes a stir every time it's enforced, and needs to be made much clearer to reduce conflict in the future. We already have a bus driver assault problem in Metro Vancouver; let's not make it worse.