I pulled into the work parking lot this morning with a little trepidation.
Would there be a spot for me? Or would I be parking near the back and limping in?
And then I saw them. One, at first. And then two others.
Gloriously branded in fresh paint, three new blue-and-white disabled logos greeted me.
Not so much for myself, although I was happy that I wouldn’t have the hike, but for the larger ADA cause.
I didn’t resort to “extreme measures,” either.
Oh, there was much sound and fury, ultimately signifying nothing on my end, but my caterwauling did put me in touch with someone who went through other channels to get the job done.
In other words, I asked our political editor for advice and he wound up asking the owner of the lot to add more spaces. He’s influential like that, whereas I was spurned at Step 1.
So there was no DOJ letter-writing campaign, although we were prepared to put pen to paper to that end.
We in this case being everyone with a disabled tag on the 3rd floor of my office.
It felt surprisingly good to be an advocate. Even better than it felt to get one of those new spots.