A curb is that piece of raised concrete along the side of a street that creates a small vertical barrier between the road and the sidewalk. Initially, it started off a solid drop-off that you had to step over. If you were in a wheelchair, you had to find the nearest drive way, battle on-coming traffic to the nearest next driveway across the street, just to cross over.
The solution was to "cut" the curb. Curb cuts. Those sloped areas where sidewalks meet the street. You see them everywhere now and most of the time you don't even pay attention to them. They're certainly not in your way even if you don't purposefully use them.
They might have been designed for wheelchair users, but now parents with strollers, delivery workers with carts and basically everyone else uses them too. What someone thought would be a good thing for people who need it turned into something that everyone can use.
It’s easy to exclude people who aren’t like us. It's easy to dismiss people who might come from a different background or group. Or, indeed, those who might have a disability.
When we build systems or spaces without considering everyone, we create invisible barriers. A piece of raised concrete isn't a big deal for many people. But for someone in a wheelchair, it might as well be a wall.
But when we do make the effort for inclusion, we often discover unexpected benefits that help everyone. Because inclusive design isn't about helping only a specific group.
Some will question whether inclusion is worth the effort. That's not even worth answering. I know it is.
My question is why we ever thought exclusion was acceptable in the first place.