Being a wheelchair user in school in southern California was great. Because of all of the tectonic movement, schools were separated into multiple buildings and spread out. All the lockers were outdoors (under overhangs) and this was true for both my middle school and high school. They had more of a college feel to them and with the lack of rain it was a wonderful setup.
Well, all good things must come to an end. My father's time in California drew to a close. We had everything packed up, including a car, and had it all shipped back to NY.
Back on Long Island, my high school was NOT handicapped accessible. All of my classes were moved to the first floor. Well, all except biology classes and art. Biology was in the basement. However, there was a driveway that went around behind the school to the lower level. I was DRIVEN down to those classes. Art was on the second floor. I did not have art in school. The library was also on the second floor. I never "set foot" in there. Luckily, I took private art classes at The Whedon Art Center and the Port Washington Public Library was accessible.
Also, since I was the first wheelchair user (or one of the first), they allocated money to install and elevator. This excited me. I would have my own elevator! No one else would have the need to use it and it was because of me it was being installed…therefore it was mine. It's the little things.
I was there for three years and by the time I graduated, my elevator was not installed. Construction had started, but no dice. I wasn't even contacted for the inaugural ride and I do not see a plaque in it that says "The James Dinn Elevator". Sad.
