For people with disabilities, access to a toilet is a make-or-break factor when deciding where they go; be it for work or socialising, everyone needs to pee. Julie Sawchuk, an accessibility strategist and best-selling author of Building Better Bathrooms, explains how we can help ensure how breweries and taprooms are more welcoming to all.

That’s a rather uncomfortable conversation starter, isn’t it? It’s biology — everyone (especially when drinking beer) has to empty their bladder. But what would you do, if after consuming a couple of pints, you realised that the WC was not available?

You’d have a little panic and then you would seek out other options. BUT, what if there were no other options? No toilet that you could access. Cross your legs and have another beer? Not likely. 

For people with disabilities, access to a toilet is a make-or-break factor when deciding where they go; be it for work or socialising, everyone needs to pee.

For me, it’s the first thing I think about when planning an outing — where am I going that has a toilet that is accessible for me? 

What is special about me? I have a spinal cord injury that affects the way my body functions, including how I empty my bladder.

I literally arrange my day according to my need to pee; generally speaking, if I can’t use your toilet, you likely won’t ever meet me. What I eat and drink when I am away from home totally depends on the facilities that are available. 

Have you ever considered that the toilets were the most important place in your establishment? If you don’t pay attention to how accessible they are, you are single-handedly excluding the world’s largest minority group, who (by the way) have money to spend. 

The toilets? The most important place? Really? Look at it this way: what would you offer to do first? Would you help someone with a door to get into a building or would you help someone within a toilet? You’d help with the door, right?

Maybe it’s down a back alley and hard to find, or super heavy, or has an awkward handle that’s difficult to operate. Either way, you would help with the door. But the toilets?

You might go so far as to hold open a door for someone to get in, but that’s likely where your offer to help stops. The toilet is a personal space and society has taught us that no one is supposed to know or hear about what a person is doing behind that closed door.

People with disabilities are the world’s largest minority community — are you considering the needs of all people?

Julie Sawchuck

Back in your establishment, you know you make and pour good beer. Your patrons enjoy themselves when they are drinking and eating at your establishment, right? Your guests are comfortable with nice stools at a bar, booths or chairs and tables, cozy lighting and great music. Everyone is welcome, right? 

Most people don’t even think about the toilets often; it’s just assumed that there is a toilet. But there are some things that you should make sure about that all-so-important feature of your establishment.

Is it: Easy to get to (i.e., no steps, steep ramps or sharp thresholds)? Well signed (i.e., inclusive symbols, use of an arrow, easy to see from a distance)? 

Or is it equipped with a door that is easy to open (i.e., lightweight, free-swinging hinge or power operated)? Large enough for a person with a mobility device to get in with their device AND shut the door? Well lit and quiet? Containing fixtures that make the toilet accessible (i.e., with appropriate grab bars)? 

Ever since we (as a society) created indoor plumbing, what happens with our bodily waste has become a private activity, always happening behind a closed door.

Sure, you know what you do in a toilet, but do you really know what anyone else is doing, or how their body functions behind that door? We assume that we do because all bodies work more or less the same … right? Not quite. You know what happens when we assume. And that is why we (as a society) have been getting it wrong (especially in “accessible” toilets) for such a very long time. 

Here is your opportunity to look at your toilets from a different vantage point and realize that accessibility is so much more than what is laid out by the “building code.” People with disabilities are the world’s largest minority community — are you considering the needs of all people?

First, vision loss. People who are blind or have low vision feel their way around a toilet — a room where no one wants to touch anything!

This is why a simple layout, with no protruding objects and good colour contrast between walls, floors and features is so important. And hand washing: a sink within reach of the soap and paper towels without having to “feel” or reach to find them? It really matters. 

How about hearing loss? Think safety. As we know, toilets are places for people to be alone. If you can’t hear that an emergency is taking place you need to be notified by sight. This is why having both audible and visual (strobe) fire alarms is needed in every space where someone could be alone.

Arms, hands and fingers function with strength and dexterity to do things like pulling the toilet paper out of the giant toilet roll, turning on the taps, pulling the paper towel out of the dispenser and opening the door.

For some, asking fingers to get that next square of toilet tissue or turn and slide a lock might actually be an impossible task.

We also need to understand that all bodies are different.

Julie Sawchuck

Access to hooks, shelves and waste disposals goes a long way to helping people while they are seated on the toilet; appropriate placement of such features will also help your WC stay neat and clean.

We also need to understand that all bodies are different. Creating gender-neutral spaces for people to choose which toilets they find most comfortable allows people to feel safe. 

These are just a few of the “uncomfortable conversations” that we, as a society, have not been having about accessible toilet design. Everybody goes, especially those who drink beer.

I’ve pulled grab bars off walls and even been trapped in toilets with such heavy doors that I had to wait for someone else to come along. Once bitten, twice shy certainly applies here — knowing that I might run into a difficult situation might mean I do not show up at all. So yes, getting everyone into your building is just the beginning — being able to stay when they have to go — isn’t that more important? 

Julie Sawchuk is an accessibility strategist and the best-selling author of Building Better Bathrooms — Connecting real stories with the detail you need for truly accessible results. Get the help you need to make your space more accessible at www.juliesawchuk.ca.