The True Meaning of Accessibility in Hospitality

Both my disabilities are invisible. I am a neurodivergent, dyspraxic person who lives without a thyroid. As a disabled person, my hospitality experiences are mixed.  So, let’s start with a good experience.

Recently, a Korean chicken restaurant, Sarang Kitchen, opened in my hometown. It was one of the most accommodating hospitality experiences I have ever had. For those not up for a conversation, they have a curated Spotify playlist available for those who want to listen whilst enjoying their meal near people, without judgement. A quiet room is available for those who need, as are fidget toys. There aren’t too many options on the menu nor are you rushed to decide. At this restaurant, I felt comfortable enough to be my neurodivergent self. That means so much to me when,  sometimes, hospitality professionals have previously misinterpreted my neurodivergent traits as hostility or anger, assumed I was rude, or accused me of not listening to or understanding what they were saying. Usually, what’s happening is sensory overload. Medical News Today describes sensory overload as something that occurs when:

“One or more of the body’s five senses becomes overwhelmed.”

It is then my brain struggles to process sensory input, when headaches, unease, and confusion about the expectations of others happen. Whether I have an enjoyable or terrible time depends on the patience of those around me. It sounds simple enough, but isn’t necessarily easy to find. Recently, I spoke to autistic author Lydia Wilkins. In our conversation, she pointed out what happens when hospitality professionals show her patience:

“I go to venues with low-level music [because otherwise] my head hurts and impacts my walking due to a balance issue. Staff that smile and talk to me like a human will get my business.’”

An essential part of being talked to ‘like a human’ is hospitality professionals not infantilising their customers. At the current rate, it will take until 2041 for disabled people to be adequately represented in the UK television industry. Underrepresentation spreads stigma and misinformation about what it means to be disabled, infantilisation becomes a behavioural reaction to this misinformation. 

Sometimes, Lucy Webster, the author of The View from Down Here: Life as a Young Disabled Woman, has been infantilised in hospitality environments. In a recent Zoom interview, she told me, “Many places assume that I can’t order or pay for myself.” 

Dr Shani Dhanda, an accessibility consultant, offered some valuable suggestions on how hospitality professionals can be better trained in how to treat their disabled guests. Dr. Dhanda told me that some helpful topics to include in disability training include how to meet different accessibility needs and how to assist disabled guests throughout their time with you. 

It's crucial to choose disability training programs led by disabled people. Disabled-led training is an opportunity to learn from disabled people's lived experiences. Dr. Dhanda recommends treating accessibility as something open to change based on feedback. Your disabled staff and customers are a helpful source of feedback on your accessibility measures. Listen to and learn from disabled people’s feedback and make it easy to provide feedback. In a Spacing Magazine article, I explained what inaccessibility communicates to disabled customers:

"You’re not welcome here because of who you are.” 

As part of my research for my Spacing article, I spoke to Geography professor Robert Buliung. Robert told me he wants his disabled daughter to feel as included in the local community as he is. Inaccessibility means families like Robert’s cannot access restaurant facilities together, especially if only some disabled people’s needs are taken into consideration. Disabled experiences vary, making consulting diverse disability community perspectives vital. Lydia Wilkins explains:

“A door needs enough space to propel a wheelchair and power chairs. It's an essential detail that often gets missed. Access impacts us all; I want to go out with my disabled friends. 

Since accessibility impacts us all, communication is part of the accessibility process. As Lucy Webster explains, “ [if] I must call and check that I can go to a place [that becomes a barrier]. I am much more likely to go if that information is on a web page.” 

Disabled customers want you to make information about accessibility measures available, so make accessibility policies part of your public-facing communications and place that information on as many platforms as possible. Think about who you might exclude, for instance by exclusively putting accessibility details on a smartphone app you assume everyone has ready access to a smartphone. 

Helen Anne Smith

Update accessibility information when new information is available—the risk of not knowing how accessible a place is significant and can lead to a loss of dignity and well-being. Lucy told me about an event where no accessible toilets were available. Since she’s a wheelchair user, accessible toilets are essential. Lydia also told me about a time when staff put her at the back of a restaurant because they considered her cane ugly and something that would ‘ruin the vibe’. 

I hear stories like these from disabled people more often than I am proud to admit. Disabled people want to go out and treat themselves to a drink or a nice meal just as much as everyone else. In the UK, disabled people are 23% of working-age adults and 45% of pension-age adults. Disabled people are the world's largest minority, so overlooking our needs is bad for business.

Earning disabled people’s customer loyalty means treating them like equals and making accessibility a mandatory part of your design and renovation process. In return, we will see you as a safe place to treat ourselves and quickly become loyal regulars who feel we don’t have to be anything besides ourselves.

Rosemary Richings

Rosemary Richings (she/her) is a writer, editor, and speaker specialising in neurodiversity and disability. Her writing has appeared in publications such as Not for Profit Quarterly, Shape Magazine, Travel & Leisure, and The Toronto Star. Rosemary is the author of Stumbling Through Space and Time: Living Life with Dyspraxia, available through Jessica Kingsley Publishers. She is now working on her second novel, a Bloomsbury Books guide to navigating university as a dyspraxic student. Rosemary is on the board of trustees of Dyspraxic Me, a charity that provides peer support to dyspraxic young adults.

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The Solace of the Familiar