Summary

The ADA was a landmark. But for many families, it’s still not enough. Here’s why we need to get more granular — and what that might actually look like.

By Incluo · Advocacy & Policy · 6 min read

I want to say upfront: the Americans with Disabilities Act is a landmark piece of legislation. The people who fought for it, who pushed it through, who have defended and expanded it over decades — they did something that genuinely changed lives. This isn’t a dismissal of that work.

But I’ve been sitting with a feeling lately, and I think it’s worth naming.

The ADA is a floor. And for many people in the special needs and disability community, a floor is not the same as being welcomed.

The Nail and the Hole

The image that comes to mind when I think about the ADA is a piece of wood with a single hole drilled through it — well-intentioned, designed to be useful — but the problem is that nails come in hundreds of sizes. Some fit. Many don’t.

The ADA was designed to be practical for businesses to implement, which meant it had to be general enough to apply across every type of business, every type of disability, every type of space. And that generality — while politically necessary — means it often fails to get specific enough to actually help.

A ramp accommodates some wheelchair users. It doesn’t help someone with low vision understand how the bathroom is laid out. A sign in large print helps some people. It doesn’t help someone who is nonverbal navigate a service counter. “Accessible” means one thing to one family and something completely different to another.

Compliance and inclusion are not the same thing. The gap between them is where most families still live.

The Case for Getting More Granular

What if instead of one general standard, we started building out specific guidance for specific disability categories? Not replacing the ADA — but building on top of it. Getting into the details that the current law doesn’t require but that would meaningfully change someone’s experience.

Yellow contrast strips on stairs, for instance. These cost a business almost nothing. They take an afternoon to install. And for someone with low vision, they can transform a staircase from dangerous to navigable. Why isn’t this a standard requirement?

Or quiet hours for sensory-sensitive visitors. Or staff training in basic communication approaches for people with speech and language differences. Or tactile maps outside restrooms. Or visual schedules for children with cognitive differences that help them know what to expect.

None of these are expensive. Most of them are thoughtful. And the reason they’re not standard is partly because no one has put them in front of lawmakers and said: this is what we actually need.

The Business Problem with Vague Standards

Here’s something I genuinely feel for in business owners: the current framework can give people a false sense of completion. You install the ramp, add the compliant signage, check the ADA boxes — and you genuinely believe you’ve done the work. You haven’t been negligent. You followed the rules.

But the family of a child with autism who walks in and finds overwhelming fluorescent lighting, narrow corridors, and staff who don’t know how to engage — that family doesn’t experience a business that did the work. They experience a business that checked a box.

More granular standards would actually help businesses, not just the people they serve. Clear, specific guidance is easier to act on than vague principles. Tell a restaurant owner exactly what a sensory-friendly experience looks like — lighting levels, sound management, staff language — and many of them would do it. They just haven’t been given a map.

What Advocacy Could Look Like

We’re not policymakers. We’re not going to pretend we have the legislative strategy worked out. But we do think this conversation needs to start somewhere — in community spaces, in advocacy organizations, in the conversations families have with local business owners.

What does genuinely helpful look like for your specific family? What are the three changes that a business could make for under $100 that would change your experience entirely? Those answers — collected across thousands of families — are the raw material of better policy.

What’s the one specific accommodation that you’ve never seen standardized but that would change everything for your family? That question might be worth answering out loud.