Más allá de le Esperanza – Eurostar and wheelchair users

 

A few years ago, I was asked to read the script for a new play, entitled Más allá de la esperanza. The literal translation of the title is Beyond Hope, which in English implies that there is no hope, a connotation that is not shared by the Spanish title, which can imply that something positive lies beyond mere hope. The play’s principal character is a disabled young man who, despite suffering from discrimination, is determined to show what he can achieve, and to prove that his life is capable of more than empty hopes. The writer was a young Mexican actor and playwright, and the play was part of his graduation requirements.

 

A poster for a production of Más allá de la esperanza in Guadalajara

As I read the script, I was reminded of a young man Jan and I met when we walked to the bakery near our apartment in Zamora in 2018. We would often meet him sitting in his wheelchair on the pavement outside his family home, sometimes eating one of the sweet rolls made in great quantities at the bakery. I suspect that, if we were to return to Zamora, we might find him still sitting there, for Mexican society offers very little beyond empty hope to wheelchair users unless they are born into wealthy families. They can’t use public transport with ease because buses are not accessible. Jobs are hard to find because most workplaces are not adapted for them. Even if they are able to propel their wheelchair, or if it is motorized, they can’t go independently for a stroll because the pavements are too steep and irregular, and in some case simply absent.

 

A poster for an adaptation of Alice in Wonderland, written and performed jointly by Cedric and a friend

Our friend Cedric, who wrote Más allá de la Esperanza, was the first disabled student to be admitted to the theatre department of the Universidad Autónoma de Guadalajara (UAG). The department is in a rather splendid colonial building, and is therefore thoroughly inaccessible to wheelchair users. Worse still, the faculty were even more forbidding when they realized that their new student uses a wheelchair, and can walk a short distance only with some difficulty. They did all they could to persuade Cedric to abandon his ambition to make a life in theatre – his final performance was given a bad grade because his teachers considered it too upsetting to see a disabled person walk on stage.

 

Cedric in one of his more flamboyant roles

But the scepticism and hostility of his teachers never diminished Cedric’s determination and self-belief. He is now studying for a postgraduate theatre degree in Paris. A few weeks ago we met him London: he had travelled on Eurostar to see two plays, Stranger Things: The First Shadow and Little Big Things. The latter is the work of a disabled writer, is performed by disabled actors and was produced in the only theatre in London that is fully accessible in front of house and behind the scenes. This was the first time that Cedric had travelled independently – relying on the ‘accessibility’ service provided by Eurostar to get him from a Paris taxi to the train, and at St Pancras in London to take him from the train to a taxi and on to his hotel.

 

As we settled into an ample Iraqi breakfast at the Samad Al Iraqi on Kensington High Street (before visiting the Leighton House museum, around the corner on Holland Park Road, and fully accessible since its refurbishment), an excited Cedric told us that Little Big Things had changed his life. For he had seen what is possible for disabled actors – including a performer in a wheelchair flying across the stage. This play proved to him that a professional career could indeed lie beyond the realms of mere hope.

 

Then he told us a curious story. He had booked ‘assistance’ on Eurostar. In Paris he had been pushed in his wheelchair to the train together with his suitcase and helped onto the train. When he arrived in London, staff helped him off the train and he sat in his wheelchair, expecting to be pushed to a taxi which would take him to his hotel. However, the Eurostar London staff explained to him that, because of a new policy, they were not allowed to push his wheelchair. Cedric would have to propel it himself, but he explained that he could not do that. After some discussion, the Eurostar ‘assistance’ people asked if Cedric would mind their taking photos of him for their boss and then they pushed him to his taxi.

 

We decided that it would be wise for us to accompany Cedric to the ‘Assistance’ check in at St Pancras in case of any difficulties on his return. After he had handed over his ticket, the man at the ‘Assistance’ desk asked if I was Cedric’s companion. I told him that Cedric was travelling alone. He then explained that Eurostar staff could no longer push the wheelchair. We showed him the confirmation of ‘assistance’ that Cedric had received, and explained that his wheelchair had been pushed in Paris. The ‘assistance’ man replied that in Paris agency staff who were trained to deal with wheelchairs were used, but not in London. However, after making a phone call, he announced that if Cedric would catch an earlier train he could be pushed in his wheelchair.

 

Jan and I were incensed by Eurostar’s treatment of a passenger who needed support. Had the London staff not relented, Cedric would in effect have been stranded in London because the same company had different policies at different stations, but neglected to inform its passengers – indeed Eurostar had promised him in writing a service that it had no intention of providing. Moreover, having been inspired by Little Big Things, Eurostar put Cedric firmly in his place as a disabled person who could not travel independently: the message was that Más allá de la esperanza there is, after all, nothing. So, I wrote to the consumer problems column of the Observer.

 

I received a reply the next day from the redoubtable Anna Tims, who investigates problems and writes the column. Eurostar wrote to Cedric to say that “the team in Paris is not directly employed by Eurostar and an external company is used to offer assistance for our customers. This company is licensed to assist customers with reduced mobility and the staff are trained on [sic] how to manage wheelchairs safely without risk of injury towards [sic] the passengers or the members of staff. Unfortunately, this is not the case in London, and as such staff are not able to offer customers to push their wheelchairs.” In other words, Eurostar London intentionally offers its passengers who require assistance an inferior level of service than it offers in Paris. In practice, this renders the assistance service in Paris useless, since, when the passenger arrives in London, no help at all is provided. (Anna's article is at: https://www.theguardian.com/money/2024/apr/08/left-stranded-and-humiliated-by-eurostars-new-wheelchair-policy?CMP=share_btn_url)

Anna pointed out to Eurostar the difference in service offered in London and Paris, but the company declined to comment. She also pointed out that Cedric’s experience seems to be a breach of contract since the information he was given about Eurostar’s ‘assistance’ makes no mention of the restrictions in London. Furthermore, the company drew her attention to its accessibility policy, which similarly makes no mention of the restrictions. She reported Eurostar to the Office of Rail and Road, “which requires licensed operating companies to publish and abide by equitable access travel policies”, and to London TravelWatch, which campaigns for the rights of passengers. I hope that Ana’s efforts will persuade Eurostar to change its policy, but meanwhile the company has offered Cedric and a companion free return tickets to London. So we will see him again at the end of June, together with his mother. Nevertheless, he will no longer be able to travel independently on Eurostar.

 

Cedric rarely brings up the subject of disability in our conversations, but we had discussed the topic over breakfast before he told us of his experience at St Pancras. I asked him for his opinion of a recent controversy concerning a production of Richard III at the Globe in London. The decision to assign the part to an able-bodied woman was criticized by some on the grounds that only a disabled actor can express authentically the experience of being disabled. Others disagreed, arguing that the very definition of acting implies conveying characters and experiences that are not those of the actor. Some noted the casting of a woman in a traditionally male role, an increasingly common practice in contemporary theatre, as evidence that actors portray that which they are not. Cedric’s view was far more practical: theatre offers very few specifically disabled roles, so if a disabled role is given to an able-bodied actor, the employment prospects of disabled actors (already very limited) are still further reduced.

 

Our friendship with Cedric has taught me that it is very difficult to truly understand the life experiences of a disabled person, although it is not difficult to understand the need for ramps, kneeling buses, accessible toilets, braille signs in lifts, hearing loops and so on. On the other hand, the management of Eurostar either lack the imagination and wit to provide to a truly accessible service, or they simply don’t care.

Cedric with fellow students in Paris March 2024: the group has been organizing a series of conferences