Beijing: the Paralympic legacy

China has won praise for the way it hosted the Olympics and Paralympics. Now, four disabled people who attended the Paralympics tell us whether they truly herald a new era for disability rights in China

Zara Todd is a member of Equality 2025 and a campaigns officer at the disability charity Scope

China was a country I never thought I would be able to visit. It hasn’t had a great reputation for its treatment of its disabled population so I was worried about how the Chinese would handle the Paralympics. And based on what I had heard, even as little as a year ago, it was a no-go destination for a wheelchair-user.

China provided a culture shock, particularly in relation to disability. Access adjustments had been attempted, but they were a halfway house compared with British standards. Even the most athletic wheelchair-user would have struggled to conquer the gradients of their ramps. For electric wheelchair-users, many of them might as well not have existed. In most cases, disabled people had clearly not been consulted and access knowledge seemed to have been learned from a book. Many adaptations looked temporary and I wouldn’t be surprised if they have already disappeared.

The Chinese people and Olympic and Paralympic volunteers were all incredibly eager to assist me to access things, but they seemed to struggle with the concept that I wanted to be as independent as possible. In addition, having seen the English language translations of what was said on the news and at the Paralympics opening cere­mony, I did wonder about the understanding of disability in China. It also made me wonder what China was going to be like for disabled people after the Paralympics ended. I do not know what it is like to be a disabled person in China, but I experienced the attention which disability seems to attract: I was photographed by strangers – often from a distance – every time I went out, which suggested disabled people have been hidden from society.

The exposure to the Paralympics on television was incredibly high, and I can only hope the experience of seeing disabled people contributing to society will move China’s disability rights movement forward. China has travelled a long way in a short period of time, but it is only just beginning to find its way when it comes to
disability rights.

Peter White is the BBC’s disability affairs correspondent

It’s hard not to get swept along by the tidal wave that is the Paralympics.

Curmudgeon though I am, veteran of four Paralympics, and three previous visits to Beijing, I did get caught up in the excitement, and particularly the reaction of Beijingers.

There was no doubting the enthusiasm of the crowds: the Bird’s Nest was frequently full, with more than 90,000 people, for the athletics; and the swimming-pool, the basketball stadium, and the various forms of football, all attracted big crowds. People muttered darkly about spectators being bussed in to fill the stadiums, but that’s not how it looked. My sense was that most of the people who turned up were there because they wanted a peek inside the stadiums which had been too expensive during the Olympics.

I talked to a number of local people, through interpreters (not state appointed), who were seeing a side of disability they had not encountered before. It’s hard to believe that seeing athletes hurling their wheelchairs at each other, or careering around the city without a carer in sight, won’t have an impact.
Equally, the changes to the travelling environment – accessible stations, buses, taxis – is bound to make people think. The danger is that, because of the lack of take-up by a disabled population not used to using the system, it will provoke the kind of questions about cost that have been raised in western countries like the United States.

What became clear was that in Beijing, and even more so in rural areas, disability is something which still goes unseen.

I sat watching the Paralympics on television with a middle-aged woman, now living in Beijing, who had grown up in the countryside. She was fascinated as we watched wheelchair tennis. Then she said, in all seriousness: “Where I grew up, there weren’t any disabled people.” I was incredulous. “You mean you just didn’t see them; they were kept indoors?” This genuinely seemed to be a new idea to her. “Yes, there were one or two,” she conceded, “but they never went out.”

Such invisibility is not simply about repression – it’s also about well-meant over-protection, and the idea that it’s the family, not the state, which should “look after” disabled people. And before we become too culturally smug, remember two points: there are still many people whose lives are hidden in this country; and the real answer to the coherent inclusion of disabled people is a combination of caring and self-sufficiency, of protection and independence. It will be interesting to return to China in five or ten years’ time to establish what the legacy of the Paralympics really was.

Sarah Carman

The advice not to tick the “mental disorder” box on my visa application was the first indicator of the state of “equality” in China. Obvious physical impairments appear to have reached a certain level of social acceptance, which works very well with the “personal tragedy” approach that seems common in China.

However, the failure to acknowledge psychological impairments and the use of the term “able-bodied” all but ruled out those with anything but physical impairments from any discussions about disability. Given my first impressions, I chose not to disclose to many people information on my own mental health.

And, since I do not visibly stray from the bounds of what is “normal”, I was not treated any differently from my counterparts.

I was in Beijing for a Young Advocates Forum run by the British Council and the China Disabled Persons’ Federation. I was part of a group of young people, disabled and non-disabled, from China and the UK. For my friends with obvious physical impairments, help always seemed available, even when not requested. The adaptations were there, but in most cases, a simple enquiry as to what, if any, help was required would have restored a lot of dignity, and made adaptations more user-friendly. I do not doubt that hosting the Paralympics has begun the arduous journey towards equality in China. I only hope this continues in the absence of international media attention.

Infrastructure changes have improved access, but what must happen now is increased knowledge and understanding of hidden disabilities, so equality can be achieved for all disabled people in China.

Graham Bool is a freelance photographer

My experience as a photographer, former GB team member and tourist was a very pleasant one. I had been warned there would be difficulty with access, communication and attitudes toward disability. But with one or two exceptions (far less than at home), including a couple of uncooperative taxi-drivers, nothing could have been further from the truth.

One subway station had just had a fine stairlift fitted, but the engineers hadn’t cut off the studs holding the rail to the wall, so the lift could not pass. A colleague found a member of staff, who reversed the “up” stairlift. Down we went, safe as houses. The next night, everything had been finished and was working. There were a couple of stations that were a little more difficult to navigate but with many willing Chinese hands and my colleagues, all was soon well.

My accommodation in a three-star hotel was closer to a five-star back home and I was persistently asked if everything was to my liking and if I was comfortable.

The lifts were plentiful and had low-level buttons and Braille. Access to the hotel was a “doddle”, with a long slope rather than a ramp making life very much easier at the end of a long day. At the venues and Main Press Centre, volunteers and staff were a delight, all wanting to “assist” in one way or another. Access to the venues was simple, with all routes clearly marked; all of the buses “knelt” and their ramps were in full working order.

Almost all of the shops and cafés/restaurants I wanted to go into had ramps or slopes – even the little places – and where it was difficult, many willing hands appeared.

In the city, I didn’t see many younger disabled people, although there were many at the venues.

I found the people in Beijing friendly, welcoming and curious. I was interviewed by a number of journalists from both radio and TV who mostly wanted to ask: “Why do you work, and work so hard? In China, you would be fishing and planting flowers at your age.”