We started our date at the BDFM ACE West 4th stop in the west village. We found the one elevator that told us it would take us down to the entrance. The elevator was much cleaner than expected: the floors had nothing on them and void of stains. It was also big enough to fit an able-bodied person and a wheelchair-using companion, but we doubted if two wheelchair-bound people could share the car.
We then went through the turnstile, which was a bit embarrassing. To use the wheelchair accessible entrance, the machine to automatically open the door was broken. As a result, one of us had to go through the turnstile and open the door for the other, which set off any obnoxious and loud siren. The noise attracted attention to the fact that we were using the emergency door, and elicited from stares from strangers as they tried to guess what we were doing. I am sure that if a wheelchair using person had set off the alarm, the stares would also be curious about how a wheelchair got through.Once through the turnstile, we went down the ramp to the platform, but the ACE trains were running uptown. The only elevator we saw took us to the BDFM platform. When we got in the elevator, it reaked horribly of human feces and I didn’t want to touch the button with anything but my shoe.
We rode the elevator down to the BDFM platform, hoping that there would be signs for the downtown ACE, but we didn’t find them. After a long time searching, we figured out that we had to take the elevator to an intermediate floor and then transfer to another elevator that took us to the right platform.
When the train came, we noticed that although the car was full, there was enough room for a wheelchair to fit, but probably not two next to each other. There was also no way of fastening the wheelchairs to the car so they wouldn’t slide around during the ride excepting for holding onto the pole or having a companion hold you steady.
When we got to our destination, we had to get off at a stop about a mile away from the Brooklyn Museum because it was the closest that was wheelchair accessible. We walked about a mile on very uneven ground that we assumed would be uncomfortable and difficult to navigate because of all the cracks and unevenness in the sidewalk.
Museum
When we got to the museum, we realized that we had to walk to the far entrance to find the wheelchair accessible door. It had a button to open the door that was situated at about the right height for someone in a wheelchair to reach comfortably, and the door swung inward to make it more manageable for a wheelchair to get through.
The layout of the lobby was very spacious so multiple wheelchairs could navigate it side-by-side and it the ground was smooth, which I am sure would have made for a more comfortable and pleasant ride for the wheelchair using person.
The elevator was large and spacious, fitting a couple of wheelchairs in it if need be. It was also a smooth ride with no jolting when we got to the second floor, so that also made it more accessible and wheelchair-friendly.
The first exhibit that we saw had all the art either on the ground or on a table that came up no higher than my mid-thigh. Any person in a wheelchair could easily see the art from all angles and up close as an able-bodied person could. The second exhibit, however, was less accessible. The paths were wide enough for only one wheelchair, and even then that person would have to be careful not to hit any of the display boxes. This would mean that if two people were using wheelchairs, they would have to split up and follow each other single file to navigate the room. It would also mean that on a crowded day, they would have an even more difficult time of getting around and could potentially block traffic altogether for all the other visitors. The display boxes were also about five feet tall, perfect eye level for an able-bodied person but difficult for a person in a wheelchair to see.
The exhibit that we came to see, The Moving Garden, was slightly inaccessible. While the display was low to the ground and therefore at a comfortable sight level for all types of bodies, it was an interactive display that invited visitors to take flowers with them out of the museum. A person in a wheelchair was not able to reach the flowers in certain parts of the display, but would have to go around to the other side if he or she wanted to reach a specific flower.
MEAL
Due to the presence of the sports-fanatical third-wheeler on our date, we ended up adjusting our original plans a bit. Because my brother insisted on watching the final quarter of the Michigan-Michigan State football game, we scrapped our plans to picnic in the botanical gardens. We began our search to locate an accessible restaurant or bar from which we could watch (rather, he could watch) the game. Luckily, and to our pleasant surprise, the search was brief. Just a half a block away from the Brooklyn Museum, we spotted Teddy's, the type of small neighborhood joint with an overflowing menu of everything Greek, everything fried, and anything one would ever think to put in a sandwich or wrap. The restaurant was totally empty--usually an uninviting sign--but the big flatscreen in the back beckoned us inside the wide-enough door and through the accessible arrangement of tables and chairs. We asked if we could change the channel of the television that no one was watching, and we were met by an awkward sideways glance and an "uh...sure?" So, we settled at a table in the back where my brother could keep his eyes glued to the screen while we enjoyed a romantic meal of french fries, Greek salad, and diner coffee.
Were it not for our third-wheeler's ardent insistence that we situate ourselves next to the TV, we would have loved to enter the restaurant's rear garden. The garden was cute and romantic, with some of that kitschy diner charm. We gazed longingly--away from the TV and towards the romance of the garden--only to learn that we would have still had to sit inside even if the biggest football rivalry in the Midwest wasn't currently demanding our attention. There was a step down to enter the garden, and the garden was thus inaccessible. So, even if we'd wanted to dine outside, it would not have been an option.
Our meal was standard and fulfilling. You can't really go wrong with diner fries and diner coffee (in my opinion), and my Greek salad had an exciting amount of feta cheese. We were also pleased to find that the restaurant's bathroom was fully accessible. Way to go, Teddy's!
GARDEN
After the football game, in which our third-wheeler was sad to see his school's team face yet another defeat, we were ready to get back into the romantic swing of things. We made our way up the block, past the museum, and to the entrance of the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens. Or so we thought. As it turned out, the entrance we'd sought out was closed, and we had to take an obnoxiously long (though technically accessible) detour. We trekked back up the block, around the museum, through a parking lot, past a replica of the Statue of Liberty, and to the garden's main entrance.
The gardens are beautiful, deliciously-scented, and quite colorful. We walked around for a bit, taking in the wide paths, the smooth pavement, and the many accessible ramps that replaced sets of stairs throughout the park. We found a couple of adorable old Brooklyn men to give our roses to, and struck up a cute but confusing conversation with them (they didn't understand why we were giving them flowers; we didn't understand their logic). We knew that we wanted to find a lovely corner of the park in which we could woo one another. Unfortunately, our desired location was inaccessible; all of the lawns were surrounded by a slight ledge, over which it would have been impossible for a wheelchair to pass. So, we had to ditch our goal of finding a shaded patch of grass under a big, flowery tree. Though we were sad about the impossibility of our initial wooing plan, we were pleased to discover a number of equally woo-worthy places around the gardens. We had our third-wheeler photograph some of our romantic moments. We wooed each other on secluded benches by ponds, overlooking the rose gardens, and surrounded by flowers. It was quite romantic.
The gardens, overall, were not as accessible as they advertised themselves to be on their website. Sure, there were certain accessible facilities--bathrooms and lockers, for instance--but many of the amenities available to all park-goers were simply not wheelchair-friendly.
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