Often, Gray’s destination is a punk show. The 34-year-old has been infatuated with hardcore and punk rock since his teenage days in Ellicott City. But after years of traveling to shows, only to be impeded by a staircase or an inaccessible bathroom once he arrived, Gray resolved to do something about it.

In 2014, Gray started a website called Is This Venue Accessible? that provides detailed accessibility information for venues around Baltimore and D.C. Since then, the site has expanded to 26 cities, including Glasgow, Scotland, and Osaka, Japan. Now Gray is taking his project to the next level, launching an app that will serve the same purpose. He expects to debut the app later this year.

Gray’s efforts have sparked a larger conversation about accessibility as a social-justice issue, particularly in regional punk scenes. I recently chatted with Gray about the broader impact of inaccessibility and how his app aims to take the stress out of concertgoing for people with disabilities.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

On the true purpose of “Is This Venue Accessible?”:

Sean Gray: I would love to see all venues be accessible, but [Is This Venue Accessible?] is not about changing venues. It’s about providing information that there’s a lack of. If there’s no accessibility information, I have to automatically default to “it’s probably not accessible.”

I took a cab to [D.C. venue] DC9, and it’s my first time going there, and when I saw those steps I just hailed a cab and went back home. The retort for some people would be, “Well, you could just ask someone to help you.” But that’s not as easy as it sounds. For some people they’re comfortable doing that and others aren’t. It shouldn’t be that way. I shouldn’t have to ask for help to go see art. Art and music and culture should be accessible to everybody.

On what accessibility means to him:

When I was a younger teen and in my early 20s, I didn’t really know what a disability was, and I didn’t know how to own that and how that affected me and how the world — the physical world — affects me. I just took the blame myself. ITVA provides information to give you a better guide to go out and actually experience music and art and culture. To me, accessibility isn’t about physical spaces. Full accessibility is about having access to culture and aspects of life that go far beyond getting into a physical building. And I think when you cut that off from a segment of people, it’s hurtful and bad for society.

When I’m not able to get to a show, I don’t just take it as being inaccessible. What that promoter, building or band is saying to me is, “You’re just not allowed to go to this show.” It sounds harsh, but that’s the reality that I and many other people with disabilities live with every single day.

“I’ve been lucky enough to see shows that have changed my life, but I also wonder how many shows I’ve had to miss that could have changed my life.”

On the lack of awareness around young people with disabilities:

Accessibility isn’t really a sexy concept. We’re going through a political election, and I assure you, you will not hear any politician on any side talk about accessibility and disability in young people. You’ve got young people and babies used as inspiration porn, and then you’ve got older people who are disabled, and there’s this gap in between. So there’s this blank space of representation for people with disabilities, and that’s why it’s very rare to see people with disabilities going to shows.

I’ve had promoters or bar owners say that they just don’t see people with disabilities there, and my response has been that you would see people with disabilities at these venues if you actually provided them with the information necessary to come.

On how inaccessibility hampers personal enrichment:

I did a talk at SXSW… and I asked the crowd, “How many of you here can say that you’ve gone to a show that’s changed your life?” Everybody raised their hand. Then I said, “Imagine if the show that changed your life, you weren’t allowed to go to. Not because your parents said you couldn’t go, and not because you had to work, but because you just couldn’t get in. That happens all the time to people with disabilities.” I’ve been lucky enough to see shows that have changed my life, but I also wonder how many shows I’ve had to miss that could have changed my life.

On accessibility as an overlooked social-justice issue:

We live in an age where there are a lot of bands, for good reason, talking about inclusion and oppression, and that’s great. But the thing that always seems to be lacking is accessibility. I saw a drawing once, and it was like a DIY house, and on the front it said, “We do not tolerate homophobia, sexism, racism, ageism,” and everything else, and the way to get into the house were these broken, rickety steps.

On the ambitious goals of the “Is This Venue Accessible?” app:

I’m trying to give the user the total experience of going to a show and planning that out. I want to build an app that I want to use, so anywhere in the world it’s connected to Google Maps, it knows where I am, which venues are around me, which venues have accessibility information, what information I need to make my choice to go to that show. I could have put together an app that just reflects the website, but that’s not the goal. It’s not just about changing attitudes about going to shows for people with disabilities, but making it an experience that is less stressful and less worrisome.

On how punk drove him to make a difference:

Punk has taught me that if nobody is going to do it for you, you do it yourself. ITVA was born out of my frustration of not being able to experience what I love the most — being told that I couldn’t be a part of it. I just wouldn’t settle for that.

When you have a disability, you’re sort of thought of to not be angry, to not be emotional, to not be sexual. There are things that you’re just not allowed to have, and you’re socialized to enjoy the fact that you can just get out of the house — or that you’re alive. In anything that I’ve done, [I’ve been determined] not to settle. It’s OK to be disabled and angry, or to want to see a band and not have to feel like this is a privilege that somebody’s helping you.

I want this site and this app to make people think differently. I think things are changing, and it’ll be a good wake-up call for bands and venues that haven’t thought of this or taken it seriously.

Listen: Sean Gray discusses accessibility on WAMU’s Kojo Nnamdi Show

Now, Gray’s website has expanded to include venues in nearly 20 cities around the world, and he’s looking for more submissions to flesh out his database.

On Kojo today, Gray spoke candidly about his own disability — Gray has cerebral palsy and uses a walker — and how he came to understand how it affected his life.

“When I was younger… I didn’t think of my disability. It wasn’t until I was in my mid-20s… that I really started to realize that disability is an oppression and accessibility issues do exist,” Gray said. “I used to kind of feel like my disability was just something that I had to — not necessarily get over, but just deal with. And I never really questioned the accessibility of a venue or why can’t I go to this show.”

Gray said when he started checking out punk shows in the D.C. area, part of the scene’s appeal was its inclusiveness. But accessibility didn’t get equal billing alongside other social-justice issues.

“There’s a lot of bands in D.C. right now that talk about inclusion, and this isn’t me dissing them in any way, but I never hear any of them speak about accessibility,” Gray said. “I’ve never once heard a band on stage say, ‘By the way, this venue had two dozen stairs, and this isn’t right.’ That’s never happened.”

Stream the entire segment — called “The Local Music Scene and Disability Rights” — on kojoshow.org. It’s well worth an attentive listen.

Also read: Is D.C.’s Music Scene Shutting Out Disabled Music Fans?

That quote has context — MacKaye was talking about his old band Minor Threat’s if-you-can’t-beat-’em-join-’em solution to shirt bootlegging — but in general, D.C.’s best-known record label really doesn’t do band swag. You won’t find any accessories, posters or clothing in the official Dischord store, not even from non-Dischord bands it distributes. If you want to buy a Dischord tee, you’ve got to go elsewhere, like Pedestrian Press, a company owned by the imprint’s other founder, Jeff Nelson.

But most touring D.C. musicians probably don’t share MacKaye’s position, and if they once did, they are probably rethinking that in the age of tepid physical sales.

So what D.C. bands and labels make the best merch-table fodder, besides records? Tough question. Bandwidth contributors put their heads together and came up with this list of creative standouts from local artists and record labels.

If you’d rather get your music from Soundcloud or Bandcamp, fair enough — you can support local music by buying this swag instead.

Note: We can’t guarantee that all of these items are still available.

Via Bandcamp

Coup Sauvage And The Snips’ “Your Condo Will Not Protect You” T-shirt

The D.C. dance-pop ensemble calls its music “a soundtrack for the children to watch the first world burn” — and this T-shirt won’t assure wealthy urbanites that they’re safe from the flames.

Via Tumblr

Ras Nebyu’s “Washington Slizzards” gear

The uptown MC christened his crew the Washington Slizzards, a name that even he acknowledges doesn’t mean much. Nebyu says he came up with the Wizards pun when he was joking around with his friend, and they thought it was funny, so they rolled with it. Then it blew up on Twitter. So Nebyu recorded a song by the same name and cranked out some T-shirts. That did it: the Washington Slizzards are totally real now.

Via Bigcartel

Moshers Delight sweatpants

The D.C. hardcore label makes its own sweatpants, probably for cozy roundhouse kicking in the pit.

Marijuana paraphernalia from Weed Is Weed and Dying Fetus

Both heavy Maryland bands have sold ganja supplies in the past: Dying Fetus slapped its name on an “herbal grinder,” and Weed Is Weed had its very own glass pipe. These guys understand their fans.

A Sound of Thunder “Blood Vomit” T-shirt

This shirt makes no attempt at subtlety. Then again, neither does the over-the-top metal band that commissioned it.

Via Bandcamp

Jack On Fire matchbook

From the band that wrote “Burn Down the Brixton” comes D.C.’s most black-humored merch: an official Jack On Fire matchbook — complete with a disclaimer, in case you get any funny ideas.

Via Bigcartel

Shy Glizzy’s “FXCK RAP” beanie

D.C.’s biggest street-rap up-and-comer takes a utilitarian approach to music: He said in a Fader interview with Bandwidth’s Briana Younger that he raps to make a living, calling hip-hop a “last resort.” His song “Fxck Rap” makes that much clear. “I know how to hustle, so f**k rap,” he says on the track. It’s all a little meta — a rapper rapping about the uselessness of his own rapping — and this rap beanie (yours for $10!) doubles the effect.

Via Causticcasanova.com

Caustic Casanova’s Bullets-style T-shirt

Dig stoner rock and D.C. sports history? Caustic Casanova has got the shirt for you.

A mildly NSFW shirt from Coke Bust

D.C. hardcore stalwarts Coke Bust sell an elaborate hand-drawn T-shirt designed by Brazilian punk rocker Xavero. Mind the nudity.

Via Silver Sprocket

Lemuria comic book

I wouldn’t doubt that the Syracuse/D.C. indie-pop band has loads of fun on tour, but this 40-page Lemuria comic book has them “travers[ing] the vast landscape of Russia, dodging roves of violent Nazis, crooked cops, mobster shakedowns, gunshots, a tropical storm, rabid dogs and a substandard German pizza.”

Windian Records 45 spinner

You can’t play most releases on the D.C. garage-rock label without one of these little guys.

Via Sean Gray

Accidental Guest’s “Morrissey Still Sucks” button

Record label owner (and Bandwidth contributor) Sean Gray seems to take glee in bashing musicians he dislikes, and these (free!) buttons make that contempt wearable.

Ex Hex tote bag

D.C.’s best rock band doesn’t sell any swag online, but catch the three-piece on tour and you’ll probably spot one of these simple tote bags at the merch table.

Via PPU

Peoples Potential Unlimited leggings

Andrew Morgan’s boutique funk record label makes excellent merch for vinyl obsessives, including slipmats and record bags that come in two sizes — for 12-inches and 7-inches — but I can’t think of another D.C. label that makes its own glamorous leggings like these ones designed by Lisa Stannard.

Via Facebook

Gloom sunglasses

If one day our world is destroyed by an exploding sun, our oblivion will probably sound like blackened death-metal band Gloom — and we’ll want to be wearing these shades to go out in style.

What merch did we miss? Drop us a comment or an email.

Photo by Flickr user Barb Crawford modified and used under a Creative Commons license.

Gray complained to me on Twitter that our list had overlooked D.C. hardcore. So I asked him to make a list of his favorite local hardcore songs of the year — and he delivered that and more. If our list inflicted a wound on the D.C. hardcore community, I hope Gray’s contribution, below, helps heal it. —Ally Schweitzer

* * *

D.C. hardcore got a good bit of attention in 2014, especially from Bandwidth. I think that’s partly because of Damaged City Fest — the growing local festival of punk and hardcore scheduled to return in April — and also the scene’s quality: D.C. hardcore bands sounded excellent last year. But Bandwidth’s Best of 2014 list didn’t acknowledge any of it.

Before I get to my list of the year’s best D.C. hardcore, I want to say something first: It bums me out that the bands listed below are all-male. Right now DCHC seems stronger than it’s been in ages. Let’s hope in 2015 we see more women involved. This scene has the power to make a change for the better.

With that said, it’s hard to deny how many great releases came out of the local hardcore scene in 2014. That’s often how I’m hearing this music — through recordings, not live shows — because I have cerebral palsy and use a walker. Lots of hardcore shows happen in places that aren’t accessible to me.

That means I base my understanding and critique of new D.C. hardcore purely on the releases. Certainly, it makes for a different experience of the scene. But I can’t hear Misled Youth’s “Deadbeat” and “Waste” and not imagine how sick that band sounds live.

D.C. hardcore also sounds contemporary. Local scenester Pat Walsh recently tweeted at me that hardcore is “obsessed with 1980.” But I’m sure most people playing hardcore in D.C. now — regardless of this city’s storied hardcore scene — don’t care what happened in 1980, 1985 or 1995.

The urgency and energy of these bands seems as fresh to me as any hardcore I heard in my teens and 20s. This scene, right now, is as important as it ever was. I hope my list demonstrates that. — Sean Gray

Warning: Some of these songs contain explicit lyrics.

Pure Disgust, “Denied”

I finally happened to get a copy of this 7-inch a few weeks ago. Instead of listening online, I just waited until I was able to play it from start to finish. Right off the bat I hear tinges of oi, but this doesn’t just sound like The Oppressed if they started a hardcore band. “Denied” is completely tight and packs more dynamics into two minutes than most hardcore bands can do on a full LP.

Public Suicide, “No Pity”

Some people live for the breakdown, and those people would love the last 10 seconds of this song. “No Pity” pounds through until it completely falls apart in the best way. Its production sparkles, and for a lot of bands doing this, that could be a bad thing. (The vocals seem questionable at first, too.) But it works here, underscoring how much work was put into these songs.

Jävla, “Warped Ones”

Supposedly the brainchild of a teenager named Brendan Reichhardt, Jävla could come off as a tribute to bands like Anti Cimex (I hear some No Security in here, too), but this demo offers more than that. The drumming makes “Warped Ones” shine, and the guitar solo gets buried in the mix — a nice change for music in this style. It all adds up to a strong demo not just for D.C.’s scene, but for the genre overall.

Misled Youth, “Nothing Left”

“Nothing Left” solidifies Misled Youth as one of the most promising new hardcore acts in D.C. Mark Jubert has the strongest vocals of any band in DCHC right now; he’s aggressive without sounding overbearing. Closing the band’s debut 7-inch, “Nothing Left” seems to split midway through, revealing a sort of coda to everything else on this single.

Red Death, “Unholy Agony”

Red Death put out the best demo of the year, period. For some purists, this may be too metal, but for my money, the band found the perfect balance with its brand of metal-tinged hardcore. This demo comes out of the gate with a “take no prisoners” attitude: “Unholy Agony” feels as brutal as any Consumer Electronics dirge and as thrashy as the best of Death Angel, and it carries the energy of underrated New York hardcore band Misguided. But don’t let these comparisons seal the deal for you: Not many bands achieve this sound as confidently.

Collusion, “Don’t Care”

With members of Coke Bust, Public Suicide, Misled Youth and Pure Disgust, Collusion could be called a DCHC supergroup — and as expected, this demo represented a snapshot of where DCHC is right now. It’s angry and bitter, sure, but for some reason I find these songs catchy. “Don’t Care” has a slight sing-along vibe. Maybe that’s because of the simple lyrics, or the fact that this song boasts the best DCHC riff of 2014.

Protester, “Let You Forget”

If there’s a band that can recruit listeners to the new school of DCHC, it’s Protester. This single packs energy that most hardcore bands would envy, and wraps with one of the most intense song endings I’ve heard in a while — vocalist Connor Donegan screams, “Will you ever fight back?”, and the song cuts out. It’s one of those moments that makes fans remember why they started loving hardcore in the first place.

Photo by Flickr user Chey Rawhoof used under a Creative Commons license.

Some operators of these small venues don’t realize they’re subject to the guidelines established by the Americans With Disabilities Act. (For more on this, check out Kerr’s piece.) On top of that, many of them don’t publicize whether or not they’re accessible.

Showgoer and record label owner Sean Gray has a partial solution to that problem: Make a list of D.C.’s accessible venues. He’s started a new Tumblr called “Is This Venue Accessible?”

“I have a disability and going to shows (DIY or otherwise) has been something I’ve been doing for half of my life now,” Gray writes on the blog. “But because of the lack of accessibility in some of these venues and/or the lack of information, I have been unable to experience many shows as well.” In an email, he points to two recent shows—last night’s Select DC-booked gig at Back Alley Theater and tonight’s Coke Bust show at The Pinch—as prime examples.

“Maybe if there’s actual data, people will care,” Gray writes.

Gray is asking the public to send information about venue accessibility to Contact.ITVA@gmail.com. Got a favorite venue you know is accessible? One that isn’t? Let him know.

Here’s the beginning of Gray’s D.C. venue list, including detailed information on accessibility for ground floors, upper floors and bathrooms. The nascent list includes big clubs like Rock & Roll Hotel and 9:30 Club. Gray hopes to eventually add information about underground music spaces, too, particularly because those are the ones most likely to be inaccessible.

Photo by Flickr user danielderrick used under a Creative Commons license.

For Gray, who has cerebral palsy and uses a walker, it was yet another show he missed because a venue was inaccessible.

“The steps were so wide and so rickety and the ceiling was so low and steep, that my friend couldn’t even help me down the stairs,” he says.

Stairs, narrow doorways, cramped corridors: They’re barriers to mobility-impaired people in any building, but they pose a particularly large problem in the underground music scene—even in D.C., a government hub that’s otherwise pretty accessible.

Bands all over the country get their start playing unconventional spaces like houses and dive bars—and for a few reasons, those spaces aren’t always subject to the regulations established by the Americans With Disabilities Act, the pivotal civil rights legislation that celebrated its 24th anniversary last month.

Consequently, even while D.C.’s DIY scene experiences a small-scale renaissance, a segment of the music community is effectively barred from participating—often by factors as common as a flight of stairs.

But with such glaring obstacles preventing mobility-impaired people from going to shows, activity around the issue seems minimal in D.C.’s music scene. Why don’t more people talk about accessibility? And how can venues and show-bookers do better by disabled music fans?

Understanding Accessibility

The good news is that many of D.C.’s big commercial venues comply with ADA, which affords basic rights to people with physical or mental impairments and establishes accessibility requirements for new buildings. It also makes sure that buildings that predate the legislation meet certain accessibility standards when possible.

The bad news is that many other D.C. venues don’t comply with ADA’s standards—and they don’t always have to.

If you use a mobility aid like a wheelchair or walker, you’ll do fine at numerous D.C. spots including the Howard Theatre, The Hamilton, Sixth & I Historic Synagogue, U Street Music Hall and Gypsy Sally’s. They make it easy with elevators that open their levels to all patrons. Black Cat gets high marks not only for its wide front doors and accessible backstage concert space, but also for the freight elevator to its main concert room upstairs.

Some DIY spots do accessibility well, too: Columbia Heights church St. Stephen’s is equipped with ramps, and Comet Ping Pong and Takoma Park’s Electric Maid are easy to enter.

Some major music venues in town are only partially accessible. Disabled patrons can easily navigate the 9:30 Club—unless they want to visit the balcony, which requires a hike up a set of stairs. Everyone can access Rock & Roll Hotel‘s first floor, too, but not the second-floor dance hall or rooftop bar.

The concert rooms at DC9 and Velvet Lounge can only be accessed via a flight of stairs, making shows at those venues inaccessible to customers who use mobility aids. (Though DC9 booker Steve Lambert says club staff is happy to help showgoers up the stairs.) Critically, plenty of house venues are inaccessible, too—they’re often old rowhouses with staircases to the front door and stairs to the basement. Unfortunately, places like these are not required to go accessible, assuming they meet certain criteria established by ADA legislation.

Marian Vessels, director of the Mid-Atlantic ADA Center, says that since so many D.C. buildings were built before the ADA’s construction requirements took effect in 1992, they were built without accessibility in mind. But she says if an accommodation is cheap and easy, businesses must make it. That means if the only thing preventing your venue from compliance is, say, an easily widened doorway, you must modify it. But for many businesses, constructing a ramp or adding an elevator would be either physically or financially impracticable.

If it’s structurally and financially feasible for a house venue to be made accessible, the property owner has to do it—because when that house hosts shows, it’s considered a public gathering place.

Private residences normally don’t have to comply with the ADA. But the rules change for houses that host public events. If it’s structurally and financially feasible for a house venue to be made accessible, the property owner has to do it—because when that house hosts shows, it’s considered a public gathering place.

“If you put flyers out that say something like, ‘Free movie night! Come as you are! We’ll have a good time!’ now you’ve become a place of public accommodation,” says Jim Pecht, an accessibility specialist at the United States Access Board.

Erik Butler, who runs D.C. house venue The Rough House, says that his space has a makeshift ramp. If other houses did the same, they could open doors they might not have realized were closed.

Going accessible offers a longer-term gain, too. Residences serve as seedbeds for the local music scene, particularly in D.C., where house shows have been happening for decades (and not just in the punk community). If a disabled music fan can’t get into a basement show, it means one less person is supporting local music—and that’s no good for a DIY scene like D.C.’s, which normally prides itself on its inclusiveness.

“Just Treat Everyone Like A Person”

You couldn’t accuse D.C.’s punk scene of broad insensitivity; it’s a community that tends to be clued into social-justice issues, and promoters, venues and musicians regularly support progressive or otherwise worthy causes.

Take D.C. punk activist group Positive Force, which has hosted numerous benefit concerts over its nearly 30 years of existence, and the national happening Punk Rock Karaoke, whose local iterations have benefited an assortment of D.C.-area organizations like Girls Rock! D.C., D.C. Books to Prisons and Helping Individual Prostitutes Survive.

Yet for all its idealism, D.C.’s DIY music scene doesn’t seem as attuned to accessibility as a social-justice issue. Evidence exists in the number of shows hosted at inaccessible venues, particularly houses.

Then again, it’s difficult to gauge the size of the accessibility issue in the D.C. music scene, because it’s tough to count the number of disabled people who aren’t coming to shows. But ask people who work at venues, and they’ll tell you they hear from people about accessibility on a fairly regular basis.

Black Cat booker Candice Jones says the 14th Street NW club gets phone calls about accessibility up to several times a month, and Rock & Roll Hotel Marketing Manager Molly Majorack says the venue fields calls about it once every two months. (Majorack also says security staff at the H Street NE club take a course and receive a certificate through the city to train on hospitality for people with disabilities.)

Natalie Illum (shown above), a disability activist, performer and poet, says that she moved to D.C. in 1999 specifically because of its accessibility to people like herself, who identify as having a physical disability. “It’s by default one of the most [ADA] compliant cities in the United States,” she says. “It’s why I live here.”

But Illum became frustrated by local spaces and stages that didn’t accommodate performers with disabilities. “Stages are not necessarily built with people who have mobility issues in mind,” she says. Her idea for a barrier-free performance series inspired a campaign that aimed to raise funds for a venue, ASL services, an accessibility ramp and other costs. She hasn’t met her goal yet, but the campaign is ongoing.

“Eight or nine times out of 10, there’s some drunk guy at the end of the show who tries to clear a path for me, showing the world, ‘We got a disabled guy coming through! Move out of the way!’ and then there’s this spotlight put on me. Is that person trying to help me or are they trying to make himself feel better?” —Sean Gray

Sight-impaired scenester and photographer Ahmad Zaghal goes to a lot of shows—by his count, four or five per week—and he says that for the most part, venue staff is great about helping him out. But he adds that accessibility doesn’t usually occur to able-bodied people until they are confronted with it. “It’s mostly an awareness issue,” he says. “It doesn’t really register until you’ve encountered it in some way.”

Because Zaghal turns up at so many local concerts, he says, many of his fellow showgoers are already aware of his disability, so he doesn’t endure a lot of blatant ignorance or harassment. But Sean Gray—who co-hosts a WMUC radio show with Zaghal—says he’s been confronted with a certain kind of unpleasant helpfulness.

“Eight or nine times out of 10, there’s some drunk guy at the end of the show who tries to clear a path for me, showing the world, ‘We got a disabled guy coming through! Move out of the way!’ and then there’s this spotlight put on me,” Gray says. “Is that person trying to help me or are they trying to make himself feel better?”

Gray compares that scenario to one that has dogged women at shows for years. “It’s the same thing if you said, ‘There’s a woman at this hardcore show, so we better make sure nobody [messes] with her.’ Putting that spotlight on you highlights that you’re The Other and you’re the oppressed group.”

Memphis-based guitarist Will McElroy, who has cerebral palsy, has toured with indie bands Magic Kids and Toxie (shown below). He reports few problems with the venues he’s played over the years. But still, he says, “More awareness could never hurt.”

McElroy says interactions between disabled and able-bodied showgoers should follow a simple but powerful rule: “Just treat everyone like a person.”

What Can Be Done?

Venues don’t have the option of a silver-bullet solution to their accessibility problems because disabilities exist on a spectrum. In other words, a ramp isn’t especially helpful for someone who is hearing-impaired, and ASL translation is useless for a someone who needs to circumvent a flight of stairs.

“There isn’t a one-size-fits-all answer,” Gray says. “It would be ignorant of us to say ‘This is what the venue or the staff or the public needs to do to make things better.'”

But all venues can take steps to do better by disabled showgoers. Independent promoter Sasha Lord, who books Comet Ping Pong, says getting the word out about local venues’ accessibility—or inaccessibility—is key. “Be proactive,” she says. “Every venue should assess their accessibility. Knowing your limitations should be the first thing.”

Venues could also include accessibility information on their websites, social-media accounts and flyers. Numerous local venues’ websites tell people to call with questions about ADA compliance. But why should anyone have to make a phone call?

“If I have that information in front of me, it will make the whole interaction, going to that venue, a whole lot easier,” says Gray. “Be public about what is accessible or not.”

Marian Vessels says that to eliminate barriers, venues of all kinds need to think creatively. She suggests that show spaces install inexpensive portable ramps where they can, and those that cannot could consider installing speakers or monitors to broadcast the performance into an accessible space in the venue or offsite. “It’s not ideal,” she says, noting the social aspect of live music. But it’s better.

“If the artist says, ‘I won’t play a venue that’s inaccessible or isn’t a safe space,’ then it puts the venue’s back against the wall. … No band is too small to put their foot down.” —Sean Gray

Independent promoters can opt to host shows in more accessible venues, too. Instead of booking bands at houses with no viable entry for disabled people, look elsewhere.

Gray suggests that performers take up the torch, too, in order to raise the issue with venues. “If the artist says, ‘I won’t play a venue that’s inaccessible or isn’t a safe space,’ then it puts the venue’s back against the wall,” he says. “If enough artists do that, a venue will lose money and start to pay attention. No band is too small to put their foot down.”

Vessels agrees. If a space is inaccessible, “tell the venue why you’re not going in,” she says. That way, venue owners may see how becoming more ADA-compliant could benefit not just people’s lives and the scene, but—in the case of commercial venues—their bottom line. If spaces are still not barrier-free when they could be, maybe they’re just unaware of the problem.

“We don’t expect them to know the answers,” Vessels says. “But they have to know enough to ask.”

The Mid-Atlantic ADA Center’s website provides an easy-to-use guide to tax credits and deductions that are available for businesses to make their space more accessible. Also, the annual Leadership Exchange in Arts and Disability Conference provides valuable information about accessibility in the arts.

Photos, from top: Images by Flickr user Marlon Dias, Stewart Chambers and Alex Barth used under a Creative Commons license; images of Toxie and Natalie Illum courtesy of the artists.

Correction: The original version of this blog post said buildings that predate ADA legislation are “grandfathered out” of its regulations. No older buildings are grandfathered out—all must comply to the extent they can be made accessible—but they were less likely to be built with accessibility in mind. The post has been corrected.