The first time I went to vote, the poll workers were genuinely excited to show me their accessible voting area. They took me over to it with a lot of pride, and I was excited too. That feeling lasted about ten seconds. The machine was set at a height I could reach from my wheelchair, which was great, but the screen was tilted at such a steep angle that I couldn’t actually reach it. On paper, it was accessible voting. In real life, it wasn’t built for me.
I ended up filling out my ballot outside of the machine. Then, with help, I got my ballot into the machine. I still voted, and I’m proud of that. But I didn’t vote privately, and I didn’t vote independently, and those two things are the whole point.
Things have come a long way since then. Last year I voted on a touchscreen device that looked a lot like an iPad. The height adjustments were easy to raise and lower, and I could reach everything on my own. It was a completely different experience, and it showed me what accessible voting looks like when someone actually thinks it through.
Election Day is Tuesday, November 3. Here’s what still frustrates voters with disabilities, and what polling places, poll workers, and voters can do about it.
Why Accessible Voting Is About More Than Having a Machine
Federal law is pretty clear on this. The ADA requires polling places to be accessible, and the Help America Vote Act requires at least one accessible voting system at every polling place in federal elections. The ADA.gov page on voting and polling places walks through what election officials are responsible for, including a checklist for checking whether a location works.
The problem is that having a machine in the room is not the same thing as having a machine someone can use. My first experience is a perfect example. Everyone involved meant well. They had the right equipment, and they were proud of it. Nobody had checked whether a person sitting in a wheelchair could reach the screen at the angle it was set to.
That gap between “we have it” and “it works” shows up everywhere in accessibility. It’s the same gap I see when a business has an accessible fitting room that’s full of boxes, which I wrote about in why accessible fitting rooms are still failing shoppers with disabilities. The equipment checks a box. The experience is what matters.
Height Is Only Half the Story
When most people picture an accessible voting station, they think about height. Height matters, but it’s only one piece. Here’s what actually decides whether a voter using a wheelchair can use the station on their own.
The angle of the screen or ballot surface needs to be adjustable, or at least set at a gentle slope. A steep tilt pushes the top of the screen out of reach, even when the bottom edge is low enough.
There needs to be room underneath for knees and footrests, so a voter can pull in close instead of reaching from the side.
The controls need to work without fine motor skills. Big touch targets, buttons that don’t require pinching or gripping, and options like audio ballots and tactile keypads make a huge difference for a wide range of voters.
Last year’s touchscreen got all of this right. I didn’t have to ask anyone for help or explain my disability to a stranger. I just voted. That’s what accessible voting should feel like for everyone.
The Path to the Machine Matters Just as Much
A perfect voting station doesn’t help much if you can’t get to it. Many polling places are schools, churches, community centers, and fire stations. These buildings are used for voting a few days a year, and their everyday setup wasn’t planned with Election Day in mind.
The common problems are ones I run into all the time. Accessible parking spaces get taken over by campaign signs or poll worker cars. A side entrance is the “accessible” one, but it’s locked or poorly marked. Heavy doors don’t have automatic openers. Temporary ramps are steep or wobbly. The voting area is set up in a gym with cords and tables crammed so close together that a wheelchair can’t get through.
Most of these fixes are cheap and temporary. Propping a door, moving a table, putting up a clear sign, or saving the right parking spots on the morning of the election can change everything for a voter with a disability.
Poll Workers Can Make or Break Accessible Voting
Poll workers are usually volunteers, and most of them are doing their best. But a little training goes a long way. Every poll worker should know where the accessible voting equipment is, how to turn it on, how to adjust it, and how to reset it if something goes wrong.
They should also know how to talk to a voter with a disability. Speak to the voter directly, not to the person with them. Ask before helping. Offer options without assuming what someone needs. These are the same basics we cover when we talk about inclusive customer service training, and they apply just as much at a polling place as they do at a store counter.
What Voters with Disabilities Can Do Before November 3
If you’re a voter with a disability, a little planning can save you a lot of stress. Call your local election office ahead of time and ask about accessible voting options at your polling place. Ask which entrance is accessible and whether the voting equipment adjusts in height and angle. If in-person voting won’t work for you, ask what other options your state offers, since absentee and mail voting rules are different from state to state.
You also have the right to bring someone to help you, and the right to ask poll workers for assistance. Neither one should ever be your only option, though. The goal of accessible voting is that you can cast your ballot privately and on your own if that’s what you want.
Is Your Building Ready for Every Voter?
If your school, church, or community space is used as a polling place, now is a great time to find out how it really works for people with disabilities. Our accessibility evaluations look at your space from the perspective of people who actually live with disabilities, from the parking lot to the voting booth. Reach out to us and we’ll help you get ready before the next election.
Every Vote Should Feel Like My Last One
I think about the difference between my first time voting and my most recent one. The first time, I left feeling like I’d been allowed to vote. Last year, I left feeling like I had voted, on my own terms, the same way everyone else in that room did. That’s the difference accessible voting makes. It’s not a special favor. It’s equal access to one of the most important things we do as citizens, and every voter deserves to walk or roll out of that polling place feeling the way I did last year.
