Press A to Access: Navigating Disability at GDC
GDC — the Game Developers Conference — is considered by many to be the most important event to attend for game developers. I have been told for years that it is the place to learn from the best, to see and be seen, to make invaluable connections, to grow and meet your peers if you are a developer, or hoping to become one.
It is also incredibly expensive. The minute I saw the price of the tickets, I put it out of my mind as unattainable, and that was before the pandemic made travel + mass gatherings extremely ill-advised. I’m disabled, chronically ill, and immunocompromised. Up until March 19th, 2022, I had only left my home for medical care and nothing else, since March of 2020.
I have publicly spoken out against attending mass gatherings during the pandemic. I think cons are a bad idea during a time when there is a highly contagious airborne disease that has killed millions and left millions more with long-term, in some cases permanent, debilitating disabilities. Add in the removal of mask mandates in most areas and you’ve got all the makings for a devastating super spreader on your hands.
I already deal with impaired mobility, vision and hearing loss, severe chronic pain, fatigue, malaise, and a number of other symptoms as a result of multiple chronic illnesses. Considering how little disabled Black lives are valued in this country, receiving quality healthcare if I were to be infected seems unlikely. I really don’t want to get covid. I cannot imagine how much worse my health would be — if I survived at all.
So why in God’s name did I go to GDC??
There are a number of factors that ultimately led to my decision. I was invited to speak on accessibility and accommodations. As a disability advocate, promoting an accessible culture is extremely important to me. I was given financial compensation, including a complimentary all-access pass and travel accommodations, in order to even make this trip possible.
Speaking remotely was an option, and obviously much safer, but the full benefit of speaking at GDC also includes gaining access to the larger community of game developers that I have spent years wanting to be a part of. As I would discover, the remote experience is incomparable to being there in person.
And lastly, the opportunity to be known and seen by HR managers while giving a talk on how they can improve their own process to be more accessible was something I struggled to consider passing up. I had the chance to possibly open minds and doors for disabled developers with my talk. I might have the chance to step through that door myself. I desperately needed to.
If you’re unfamiliar with the reality for disabled Americans, I’ll give you a quick summary: if you are on SSI, your income limit is $794/month. If you are on SSDI, your income limit is $1,350/month. There are savings limits as well. If you exceed these limits, the US government will deduct earnings from your income or cease it entirely.
This is federally mandated poverty.
It is extremely difficult to live under these restrictions if you DON’T have expensive medical care to manage & life-saving medication to pay for. Millions of disabled people are struggling to make enough to pay for meds, insulin, dialysis, mobility aids — but trying NOT to do anything that would give the government cause to suspend benefits & leave you with no medical care or funds.
I have been on this tightrope for decades. I would like to exit, please.
Honestly, I would prefer that the tightrope didn’t exist. The tightrope should actually be a safety net. But it’s not.
It’s something that we are forced to contend with every single day. There is no relief from the economic anxiety. The constant fundraising for essentials. The pressure of having to provide not just for yourself, but for your family. For the chance to have a family, to be seen as worthy of being part of one. Forcing yourself into the grueling gig lifestyle of eternally hustling to get the next check, with no time to breathe because you just can’t afford to stop.
Working so incredibly hard and still being told that it's not enough, that you will never be enough because of the ableist lens through which you are forever perceived. Desperately grasping at every professional opportunity you can get because you’re queer and Black and disabled, who knows when you’ll get another chance like this?
I couldn’t let it pass me by. Even though it was incredibly dangerous. It was for a good cause — one of my strongest driving forces. And it would take me down the path I needed to take. Presenting virtually would not help me progress as much as presenting in person. I took every possible precaution I could think of.* And I went to GDC.
I’m a consultant with a few games under my belt and currently a student in Code Coven’s Introduction to Game Development course learning Unreal Engine. I’ve exhibited and spoken at PAX East & South (rip) many times, as well as at MIT, NYPL, SDPL & many other institutions and conventions.
I love games. I want to make accessible games with positive representation featuring marginalized characters, in seldom portrayed settings. I’m always happy to consult to make sure the games that are being made by those without the lived experience of their characters are being done justice. I am pumped to fully develop some video games myself.
Upon arrival, I observed that the line was quite long. Due to degenerative & chronic joint issues, I use an electric mobility scooter to get around. Waiting outside for hours, in a line this long with constant stops & starts would deplete both my physical energy and my assistive device’s battery. I asked the nearest uniformed convention center personnel where the accessible line was.
He laughed in my face, said that there wasn’t one and that I could go wait outside.
I politely asked where his manager was so I could ask her where the accessible line was.
He left and returned with his manager, who apologized and escorted me to registration without further incident and I was able to pick up my badge.
My second in-person observation at GDC was that the doors were very heavy, and the wheelchair-accessible door button to enter did not work.
The Moscone Center where GDC is located, is composed of 3 buildings. 2 out of the 3, North and South, had non-functioning accessible doors. The third, West, did, but the accessible door was not possible to see and also very far away from the wheelchair ramp, to the point where before I could get to it, there was another door propped open. Upon exiting, you had to pass a staircase to get to the ramp at all. A very strange design.
Another issue I encountered was a lack of wheelchair-accessible & disabled seating in the panel rooms. I have worked at convention centers in the past and typically they will reserve a few spaces at the end of each row for a mobility device, for line of sight access so that deaf attendees can clearly see interpreters & captions, and seats up front for the visually impaired. There were no such seats at the Moscone Center in any of the panel rooms ( I went to a dozen talks in different rooms in each building).
So nearly every time I went to a panel, I would have to spend a few minutes removing a chair from the end of the third row so that I could fit there in my mobility scooter without blocking the aisle. It was impossible to access the first two rows, because the microphone stand had been duct-taped to the center of the aisles, leaving not quite enough space for anyone using a mobility device to pass.
Occasionally a conference associate (GDC Volunteer) would assist me, but it was impossible for me to quietly enter a panel and just watch like everyone else because I always had to move a chair just to get in. I did go and speak to the con center management about this issue and they were very polite and took this seriously. Hopefully, at future events, they will provide space for wheelchair users in each panel room.
I also noticed that the elevators to access the expo floor were consistently blocked with a heavy stanchion and velvet rope. I imagine this was to prevent unauthorized entry without a valid badge. Perhaps there were other elevators that were intended for attendees to use. I will never know because, on the large map of GDC in the center of registration, elevators were not listed. Anywhere. Escalators were, and restrooms. But I had to ask a building security guard where the elevator was.
People were generally very helpful and usually masked inside the con center, unless they were eating or drinking, or had forgotten to put their masks back on after such an activity. Many speakers removed their masks when on panels, but I didn’t notice a marked difference in vocal volume or clarity with or without masks if the mask was well fitted. When I spoke on Thursday I kept my mask on and asked my fellow speakers to remain masked when seated next to me, which they were happy to do.
Speaking at GDC was a wonderful experience. Our panel room had a ramp as I had requested, so I was able to use my mobility scooter to access the stage. The only technical difficulties were the hilarious kind, so it was fine. Everyone had a unique perspective to share on accessibility and I am very proud of our collection of micro talks. If you would like to watch it, the video is available here.
The difference between what was possible for me before GDC and what may be possible now is night and day. Emotionally it was an overwhelmingly positive & affirming experience. I made lots of friends, many of whom weren’t entirely unfamiliar. It feels as though I wasn’t ‘real’ to a lot of people until we met in person. This is somewhat understandable — it’s been a long pandemic. It’s also very frustrating — without the in-person connection, it’s so hard to make friends. I keep thinking ‘what if I had done this remotely? what would it have been like?’
Judging from the posts of many on Twitter, it would not have been as positive. Those who presented remotely experienced the frustration of realizing that their talk was not being live-streamed to the virtual pass holders — only the in-person crowd. I watched a few live-streamed panels while in person. Despite the fact that they were using Zoom, which has live captions available for paid and educational accounts, none of the live-streamed panels had captions. The technical difficulties that occasionally occurred were unfortunate and it made it somewhat difficult to ask questions of the speakers, who were all excellent, talented developers.
Those who were virtual pass holders experienced the irritation of realizing that their pass did not give access to as many talks as they assumed.
This is really disappointing, and if we are still in a pandemic next year, I hope GDC does provide more streaming content so that people who want to experience the convention without risking their health will be able to do so. There is always Vault membership of course, but that price tag is daunting.
I appreciate the incredible opportunity GDC gave me by inviting me to speak. It hasn’t changed my perspective on having large events during a pandemic — I still think they are unsafe in general, and it’s not because GDC didn’t do everything they could to protect people, because they did. The vaccination & masking policy was good. I don’t believe a high level of covid infection occurred within GDC itself.
It’s my personal belief that going without masks outside of GDC (or inside for those who did), congregating in large unmasked groups, and eating communally were some things that contributed to the rapid spread of covid among GDC attendees. These are things it should be safe to do and I wish they were. It’s unrealistic to expect everyone not to want to spend time together outside of the convention space. We all want this. These are my friends and colleagues, I care about everyone and I want all of us to be safe. But it just isn’t safe yet.
The responsibility for the current state of the pandemic in this country is on the shoulders of the government. As a community and as individuals, we should all be doing what we can, but we cannot personal responsibility our way out of a pandemic. All we can do is make the best choices we can & look out for one another.
*As of the posting of this article, I am 6 days post-GDC, have no symptoms, and have tested negative for covid. The precautions I took are as follows:
I sourced my N95 masks from Project N95, a reputable supplier. I heard about all of the fake masks being sold and wanted to make sure I avoided those. I wore them 100% of the time that I was in public spaces, indoors or outdoors. I did not remove my mask, eat or drink outside of my hotel room. All food & drinks were delivered to my hotel or picked up to go. I changed masks every couple of hours because of this chart:
I refused to share elevators with anyone, masked or not. I was non-confrontational about it. I would simply exit the elevator if someone wanted to get in, and waited for the next one. Occasionally someone would realize why I was doing this (they were usually unmasked and sheepish about it) and insist I stay in the elevator and they’d get the next one instead.
I always had some kind of eye protection or glasses on and avoided touching my face or eyes while out. Carried hand sanitizer and used it frequently after touching shared items (microphones in panels, doors, chairs, tables, etc.)
I brought a very small, lightweight, portable HEPA air purifier for my hotel room because of articles I’d read about hotel room covid transfer, as well as a CO2 monitor. Both had been tested in my home for weeks prior to the trip and were in good condition. TSA had no issues with me bringing the air purifier in my carry-on (I had no checked luggage). Possibly overkill, but it was nice to have the one place where I was unmasked have the cleanest air possible, with low CO2.
I’ll be repeating these precautions should I need to travel again, but unless it is absolutely necessary, I don’t plan to do any more events this year. This was incredibly stressful, draining, and very hard on myself and my family.
