On March 12th, 1990, dozens of disabled activists gathered outside the U.S. Capitol.
Some of them got out of their wheelchairs.
Some of them crawled.
One by one, they pulled themselves up the steps – because the building that housed the laws of the land had no ramp.
No one watching that day could pretend they didn’t see the problem. It wasn’t theoretical. It wasn’t a policy debate. It was human beings, dragging themselves up marble stairs just to ask for the right to exist in public.
The Capitol Crawl, as it became known, was one of the final sparks that pushed The Americans with Disabilities Act into being. It was brave. It was strategic. And it was exhausting – because people with disabilities shouldn’t have to crawl to be heard.
And yet, they still do.
The web was just beginning when that protest happened. And like everything else, digital spaces inherited the same barriers.
New format. Same exclusion.
But also? The same fire. The same fight. The same demand: access for everyone.
That’s what accessibility laws are trying to achieve.
Not compliance for compliance’s sake.
But basic civil rights.
Because being left out of public life isn’t just frustrating.
It’s unjust.
And when we build things that lock people out, we’re not just breaking the law. We’re breaking trust.
That’s where this story starts.
Not with policy.
With people.