On April 5, 1977, more than 105 people with disabilities and their allies stormed San Francisco’s health, education and welfare office and started a 26-day sit-in.

The protest surrounded a small paragraph, called Section 504, of the Rehabilitation Act of 1973. Although the bigger law had been passed, the regulations had still not been ratified after four years, and people were understandably upset.

On Wednesday, March 29, Emily Beitiks, interim director of the Paul K. Longmore Institute on Disability at San Francisco State University, will give a free lecture on Zoom that peeks behind the curtain of what it was like at that month-long protest.

---

---

Her presentation, which will begin at 5 p.m., is based on first-hand experiences she collected while the institute was piecing together the “Patient No More: People with Disabilities Securing Civil Rights” exhibition that is showing through April 16 at the Park City Museum.

“It was remarkable doing these interviews,” Beitiks said. “Some people who looked back were so proud to see how far we have come. But it was also hard for others to look back because they felt like so much was going to change, and, while technically things have, there is still so far to go.”

---

---

The lecture will put into focus that the protest is not just part of the history of disability rights.

“It shows an interesting connection of different social-justice movements that came together to support the disability rights community in making an important change,” she said. “You actually do see some early signs of those conversations happening in the 504 protest.”

During the sit-in, some of the people with disabilities were able to come out as queer for the first time, according to Beitiks.

“They weren’t able to before the protest, because they never felt their disability needs were supported enough where they could feel comfortable to take that leap and go on that journey,” she said. “That really showed how disability can affect anybody. So many people have bisection of identities, and that needs to be central in the conversation of what it means to do disability activism today.”

The seeds of Beitiks’ own journey into disability activism started with her socially-conscious parents, who included her mother, who has a disability and attended the University of California, Berkeley, in the 1960s.

“I grew up in a house where we all thought about social justice and its history,” she said. 

Beitiks didn’t, however, learn about disabilities in that framework.

“It wasn’t really something my family talked about, and it wasn’t until I got into college where I happened to be in a class that integrated disability studies into the curriculum,” she said. “It framed disability through the lens of being a social construction that is tied to wider systems of oppression.”

That’s when a lightbulb went off.

“I immediately wanted to be a part of trying to make us more aware and change these systems of ableism for the rest of my life,” Beitiks said. “I had observed discrimination my entire life. I had it personally affect me in my life’s journey. I knew what it was like to come face-to-face with the medical industrial complex and having to do care work that a lot of my peers didn’t have to think about.” 

One of the profound lessons Beitiks learned as she embarked on this path was coming to terms with her own internalized ableism.

“I was also part of the problem, because I would catch myself saying things like, ‘Let’s not make a fuss’ or ‘Let’s go along with this,’” she said.

Still, Beitiks finds herself in a unique place within the disability community.

“I have the privilege in this moment of time of not being disabled, but I can come to (the issue) with some personal ties,” she said.

There’s no better time to talk about disability rights than now, when the world is transitioning and adjusting to life with COVID-19, according to Beitiks.

“The world was able to pivot quickly because of so many technologies and innovations and cultural values that have been fought for over the years by disabled people in regards to virtual participation,” she said. “We just saw this huge example of how much we need this flexibility and adaptability that disabled people can bring to the table.”

Still, like some of the people she interviewed, Beitiks knows there is a long road ahead in the fight for disability rights. 

“One of the things I’m always going up against is the misconception that this is all about compliance and legal issues,” she said. “People are still thinking about access through a deficit where they feel this is something they have to do, and that it’s a pain.”

Beitiks is trying to shift that conversation through her work at the institute, which uses public education and community events to teach disabled and nondisabled people how disabilities can enrich the world.

“I’m trying to shift the conversation to make people understand that access is an incredible opportunity and creative process that we should be doing first and foremost to promote better inclusion,” she said.