Accessibility Without Borders: A Personal Journey in the USA

Published: Oct 23, 2025

Country: Kenya

Maria Makau is a 2025 Fellow in the Professional Fellows Program on Inclusive Civic Engagement. This program is sponsored by the US Department of State’s Bureau of Educational and Cultural Affairs and is administered by the Institute for Community Inclusion (ICI) at the University of Massachusetts Boston in partnership with the African Disability Forum (ADF). The following blog post was written by guest author Maria.

When I arrived in Boston for my fellowship, I was filled with excitement and curiosity. Having grown up and worked in Kenya, I had long admired how the US is often seen as a leader in accessibility and inclusion for persons with disabilities. I imagined a place where every building, road, and transport system worked seamlessly for everyone.

But the days that followed brought a powerful realization: Accessibility, no matter where you are in the world, is a continuous journey, not a finished destination.

Stepping Out of My Comfort Zone

At home in Kenya, I had mastered navigating my environment as a woman with a physical disability. I knew the routes I could use, which buildings had ramps, and where I could find assistance when needed. More importantly, I had a close-knit support network and a sense of familiarity with my surroundings. That community gave me confidence and comfort, even when the environment itself was not fully accessible.

Coming to the US meant leaving that comfort behind. Suddenly, everything was unfamiliar: the systems, the routines, and even the ways people interacted. From learning to book and use paratransit to maneuvering through new streets, I quickly realized that accessibility is not just about physical infrastructure. It requires adaptability, patience, and self-advocacy. Paratransit, for example, was both empowering and restrictive. While it allowed me to move around, it also meant living according to someone else’s schedule. Systems designed to help can unintentionally limit independence.

When “Accessible” Isn’t Fully Accessible

One of my most eye-opening experiences was boarding the Statue City Cruises ferry to visit the Statue of Liberty in New York City. The ferry was labeled “accessible.” Indeed, there was a ramp, a space for persons with disabilities to sit, and space for wheelchair users. But once on board, I discovered all the windows were positioned too high for someone in a wheelchair. I found myself staring at a wall instead of the beautiful harbor view I had imagined.

That moment taught me that true accessibility is not only about entry but about equality of experience. Meeting basic standards is not enough. Inclusion requires empathy and thoughtful design.

I also visited a restaurant in New York City. It was warm, inviting, and beautifully decorated until I needed to use the restroom and was told it was downstairs with no elevator. Even someone without a disability would have struggled with the steep stairs. Situations like this made me reflect on how inaccessibility, even in public spaces, silently excludes many people from fully participating in society.

Seeing Beyond the Physical Barriers

Throughout my fellowship, I met people with disabilities whose experiences deepened my understanding. One amazing woman communicated using assistive technology that tracked her eye movements. Watching her express herself with such patience and determination reminded me that self-advocacy takes many forms. Accessibility must extend beyond the physical to communication, technology, and attitudes.

Not all disabilities are visible. Some, like trauma, neurodivergence or chronic illness, are invisible, yet the barriers they face are just as real. Accessibility must be holistic, addressing both visible and invisible needs.

The Reality of Accessibility in Practice

Living in Pleasantville, New York state, during my fellowship revealed another layer of complexity. The town was described as a “walker’s community,” yet many streets had no sidewalks. Navigating in a wheelchair or on crutches meant sharing the road with vehicles. The contrast between perception and reality was striking.

The US has made remarkable progress through the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA), from talking pedestrian signals and tactile pavements to accessible transport systems. Yet even in a country with advanced legislation, real-world implementation can fall short. Accessibility is more than compliance. A ramp is only useful if it leads to equal participation, and a service is only accessible when it fosters independence, not dependency.

Lessons That Transcend Borders

This fellowship was more than a professional milestone; it was a deeply personal journey of growth. I became more independent, resilient, and empathetic. I learned that accessibility is both a design and a mindset. It is not simply about ramps and elevators but about inclusion, awareness, and respect for diversity.

The US may be among the most progressive nations for disability inclusion, but it still faces challenges, just as Kenya and many other countries do. Our struggles may look different, but the underlying message is the same: Accessibility must continue evolving everywhere.

Moving Forward

As I return home, I carry these lessons with me. Accessibility is not an act of charity; it is a human right. It ensures that everyone, regardless of ability, can live, learn, and work with dignity.

Whether in Boston or New York or Nairobi, inclusion begins with listening to the stories, experiences, and realities of those who live the barriers every day. Accessibility is not just about opening doors; it is about making sure everyone feels welcome once they are inside.

---