Living under Moscow rules

Russia’s more than 14 million people with disabilities experience inadequate and inferior education, community isolation, and low self-esteem says Natalya Prisetskaya with Denise Roza

Russians with disabilities are still marginalised and deprived of the same rights and opportunities that non-disabled citizens enjoy. Russian statistics demonstrate that the majority of disabled children, ages seven to 18, are isolated in their homes, segregated in specialised institutions, and more than 50 per cent receive no education at all. Getting access to employment is also a challenge that nearly 90 per cent of disabled people who are unemployed face.

I am 35 years old, a native Moscovite and was raised in a very loving and caring family: two parents and a little sister. When I was 15, I had an accident that caused a spinal cord injury.

Since then, I have been using a wheelchair. In Russia, the dominant approach to disability is the medical approach. It wasn’t until I met other wheelchair users at rehabilitation centres that I began to realise life would not come to an end if I used a wheelchair for the rest of my life. As a recently disabled person 20 years ago, there were no centres like the one I saw in the US many years later, where disabled people provided peer support and advice for each other.

I tried to attend Moscow State University, but gave up after two years of frustration dealing with the stairs, inaccessible transportation, and dependence on family members without whom I couldn’t have made it to my classes. A few years later I got a junior college degree in computer graphics from a rehabilitation centre in Moscow. But my goal was to eventually get a university degree in Management, and years later, after I had my own car and job, I succeeded in doing this.

My new abilities as an activist also helped me to speak out for my rights while at the university, and to demand accessibility. Today, because of this, my university is one of the most accessible in Moscow for wheelchair users.

I have been working at the Russian disability NGO, Perspektiva, for nearly ten years, starting as an assistant to the office manager. Now I am in one of the top managerial positions and currently in charge of Perspektiva’s peace building project in the Northern Caucasus and our access to sports and recreation project.

The main barrier I face today is inaccessibility. My parents, for example, live in an apartment building where you have to climb 18 steps before getting to the lift. Although accessibility legislation was passed in Moscow five years ago, there is still very limited accessibility. I live in an accessible apartment building where there is a ramp at the entrance and a chairlift from the ground floor to the lift that is just five steps up. I have managed to get a reserved parking space near my apartment which is very rare in Moscow. There are about 25 accessible buses in Moscow and a few streets that now have dropped curbs (they were installed in 2008). There is a para-transit system, but it is expensive ($8 per hour) in a big city like Moscow. For someone living on their pension of $100 to $250 per month, it is not affordable to pay for this form of transportation daily.

And although I have managed to get a free reserved parking space and an accessible apartment, the majority of disabled people in Moscow and across Russia are still living in very inaccessible conditions. Many even have difficulties managing in their own homes because of the small apartments, narrow halls and narrow bathroom doors. People are obliged to make renovations to their homes which they as a rule pay for themselves.

My colleagues with other types of disabilities also deal with access issues. Pavel, who coordinates our inclusive education programmes in Moscow, is blind and has to make his way to work everyday on the metro and deal with the inaccessible and dangerous streets. He uses a cane to get around the city, but he has still been hit by cars on several occasions. The “white cane” rule does not apply in Russia, and no one even notices the white cane until it’s too late.

Another colleague – our head lawyer, Maksim Laryonov, has a hearing impairment and uses both speech and sign language to communicate. Maksim, too, faces discrimination at most meetings, or other large gatherings that he attends, because a sign language translator is not automatically provided.

In July, I experienced discrimination when traveling by aeroplane to another city to hold a seminar. Just as I was about to board the plane, I was told that I would not be allowed on because I was a wheelchair user flying without an attendant. At first I thought it was a joke.

After all, I had flown on this airline and this route many times and this had never happened. I called our office, spoke to our lawyer and then to our public relations manager. That day was just the beginning of a campaign that would last about four months and provide many, many opportunities to speak out for the rights of disabled people. The story was on all major Russian TV and radio stations. Then, our lawyer, Maksim, helped me file a lawsuit. Just weeks later, the Russian government signed the UN Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities. This was the first case of its kind in Russia, and it attracted the attention of people across Russia who had never even thought about all of the discrimination that disabled people face daily.

My work as an activist educating other people with disabilities about their rights has helped me become a better advocate for myself. The majority of disabled people in Russia still need peer support, and need to be educated about their rights and how to be effective activists.