From Steps to Equality: A Polio Survivor’s Journey Through Disability Pride in India, Canada, and Beyond

Disability Pride flag with diagonal stripes in red, yellow, white, blue, and green on a dark gray background By Sanjeev Agnihotri
Treasurer, Rotary Club of World Disability Advocacy (RCWDA)

Every July, the world pauses to celebrate Disability Pride Month a movement meant to honour disabled identity, culture, and resilience. But Disability Pride did not begin as a celebration. It began as a struggle, a crawl, and a demand for dignity.

On March 12, 1990, dozens of disabled activists gathered at the foot of the U.S. Capitol. Among them were leaders whose names have become synonymous with disability rights: Judith Heumann, Holly Anderson, Michael Winter, Bob Kafka, and many others from Americans Disabled for Attendant Programs Today (ADAPT). They removed their wheelchairs, crutches, and mobility aids and began to crawl up all 83 steps of the Capitol building.

 

Disability Pride: From Protest to Progress

It was not a performance. It was a protest born out of exhaustion — exhaustion from inaccessible schools, inaccessible workplaces, inaccessible transit, inaccessible public spaces, and inaccessible attitudes. The world had forced disabled people to crawl metaphorically for decades. That day, they showed the world what crawling really looked like.

The Capitol Crawl became one of the most defining civil rights moments in modern history. It helped push the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) into law on July 26, 1990, finally recognizing disabled people as equal citizens deserving of access, opportunity, and respect.

That same year, Boston held the first Disability Pride Day. Over time, communities realized that one day was not enough to honour the depth of disability identity or the magnitude of the struggle. By 2015, the 25th anniversary of the ADA, July was officially recognized as Disability Pride Month.

A day gives visibility. A month gives voice, education, storytelling, and momentum.

But even a month is not enough if the world changes only its calendar and not its systems.

Living Between Two Worlds: India and Canada

As someone who has lived with disability in both India and Canada, I have seen two very different realities and yet, the same underlying struggle.

In India, people with disabilities are still fighting for basic recognition. Accessibility remains inconsistent, stigma remains deep, and disabled people often rely on family support rather than systemic support. India has brilliant activists, powerful voices, and strong legislation on paper, but implementation is slow, fragmented, and often absent. India has a long way to go before disabled people can participate fully and freely in society.

In Canada, the picture is more hopeful. Canada has made significant progress in accessibility, inclusion, and disability benefits. But even here, the journey is far from complete. Funding cuts to disability programs, reduced support for students with disabilities, and the struggles faced by parents navigating the system show that progress can be fragile. When budgets shrink, disabled people are often the first to feel the impact.

Canada has achieved much, but it is not immune to ableism, bureaucracy, or systemic gaps. Disability Pride Month reminds us that rights can be won, but they must also be protected.

Has Disability Pride Changed Lives? The Honest Answer

Disability Pride Month has brought visibility, confidence, and community. It has encouraged disabled people to embrace their identity without shame. It has inspired organizations to rethink accessibility. It has created space for conversations that were once avoided. But has it changed everyday life for disabled people?

Not enough.

Too often, Disability Pride Month becomes a social media celebration rather than a structural movement. Some organizations post a Disability Pride graphic in July but ignore accessibility the rest of the year. Some “advocates” speak loudly online but remain silent when real change requires effort, funding, or accountability.

Celebration without action is not Pride.

It is performance. Disabled people do not need symbolic pride. They need accessible housing, accessible transit, accessible education, accessible employment, accessible healthcare, and accessible attitudes.

Where Disability Pride Must Go Next

If Disability Pride is to fulfil its purpose, we must shift from awareness to accountability. We must ensure that disabled people, not institutions, lead the movement. We must build accessibility into every system from the start, not as an afterthought. We must treat inclusion as a year-round responsibility, not a July tradition. We must challenge performative activism and demand real change. We must celebrate disability as identity, not tragedy.

The Capitol Crawl was not a celebration. It was a demand. Disability Pride must honour that demand.

A Personal Reflection — Crawling Through Systems, and Sometimes Up Steps

As a lifelong wheelchair user and polio survivor, Disability Pride is not just a concept for me; it is my lived reality. I have crawled through systems, and yes, I have crawled up steps too.

In my high school in India, my classroom was on the second floor with no elevator, no ramp, and no accessible alternative. Every morning and evening, my friends lifted my wheelchair up and down those stairs. My father fought hard to bring my classroom to the main floor, but nothing changed.

Years later, in law school, the same story repeated. But by then, I had found my voice. I raised the issue publicly, and this time, I was not alone. My friends, fellow students, the student union, and supportive professors stood with me. Together, we pushed until the administration finally moved my classroom to the main floor.

When I began working, the building had five or six steps at the entrance. Again, no ramp. No accessibility. Every day, my young colleagues helped me go up and down those steps so I could do my job.

In India, I struggled. I raised my voice. And whatever I achieved, I achieved through persistence, community support, and sheer determination. These experiences shaped me. They taught me that accessibility is not charity — it is a right. They taught me that pride is not passive; it is active. And they taught me that progress is possible, but only when people stand together.

The Hope Ahead

Despite the challenges, I have many hopes:

  • Hope in my disabled community who refuse to be silent.
  • Hope in the parents who fight for their children.
  • Hope in the students who demand accessibility.
  • Hope in the communities who embrace diversity.
  • Hope in the legacy of Judy Heumann and every activist who crawled so future generations could stand tall.

Disability Pride Month is not just about pride. It is about progress. And progress requires action from governments, institutions, communities, and each one of us.

The Capitol Crawl showed the world what disabled people can do when barriers block their path. Today, our responsibility is to ensure that future generations never have to crawl again — not up steps, not through systems, not through society.

At the Rotary Club of World Disability Advocacy (RCWDA), we remain committed to advancing accessibility, inclusive education, assistive technology, and leadership opportunities for people with disabilities worldwide. If you would like to support these efforts and help expand our impact, you are warmly invited to contribute to our work.