Daniss-Bodó Eszter: Accessibility is a right, not a good deed
I have always looked for work where what I do adds value; I do not stop at making money and producing. I was looking for a worthwhile cause, and for the kind of complexity and balance in which I feel at home. After two decades, I finally found all this in UX, while accessibility and inclusive design allow me to draw on both my professional experience and what I have learned from my own life. (user experience)
In the first instalment of our new article series, Daniss-Bodó Eszter, the newest member of our team, talks about having a sense of purpose, changing careers, the relevance of accessibility and much more. Please join us in welcoming her!
I do not stop at making money
I have always looked for work where what I do adds value; I do not stop at making money and producing. After completing my advertising specialisation – and bypassing the obvious agency career path – I worked in other fields. I was looking for a worthwhile cause, and for the kind of complexity and balance in which I feel at home. After two decades, I finally found all this in UX, while accessibility and inclusive design allow me to draw on both my professional experience and what I have learned from my own life. (user experience)
With time, I have gained a sense of calm
Until Covid, I worked at a game development studio on a project called Autibarát. Looking back, I was already advocating for accessibility there: as a parent directly affected, I represented the needs of autistic users during the game's development. That was where I first encountered UX and the design thinking method, which completely drew me in. That was when I decided this was what I wanted to do. (user experience)
After xLabs, I continued learning and began my career in Exalt Interactive's Product Design excellence programme, with support from Klein Péter. It gave me a very useful framework for seeing myself as a junior who also brought more than twenty years of previous work experience. I see age as an advantage: with time and the experience I have gained, I have also found a sense of calm. It gives me a great deal that I have seen many different sectors and systems work – and fail to work – collaborated with many different people, and experienced plenty of setbacks. Having tested myself in numerous roles and environments helps me understand my own limitations and abilities.
Accessibility should not be just a ‘nice to have’ attribute
I am far more interested in – and concerned about – long-term, higher-level questions and answers. This was one of the topics at a roundtable discussion at this year's Service Design Day, where we explored the designer career path from several perspectives. When we asked the audience, many associated seniority with earnings and status; for me, it is more about the breadth of knowledge and potential that will allow me to guide and move things forward. At one of my former workplaces, the universal saying was: ‘you are a mid-level or senior professional from the moment the client sees you as one’. That is one perspective too.
In the same discussion, we explored what matters most in a designer's career. We concluded that it is mission. It is difficult to plan for the long term, persevere, and endure hardship and transitional periods with only short-term goals. My mission is for inclusive design one day – and accessibility until then – to become the default rather than merely a ‘nice to have’ attribute. This requires everyone: from those directly affected, through product development professionals, to decision-makers and the state. I represent two groups here: the designer and the parent directly affected. I have two children, both at different, fluid points on the autism spectrum, and one also has ADHD. I accompany them in their struggles across every area of life, and see the seemingly impossible odds they face in education, employment and even leisure. I refuse to accept that this cannot be improved.
Through one person, you can affect an entire group's quality of life
The quality of life of a child directly affected also shapes that of their family. So when considering what proportion of a country's population is affected by any kind of disability, we should also recognise that, because built, digital and social environments lack flexibility and accessibility, their families and carers are equally affected by the issue, even if not by the diagnosis. Through one person, you can therefore affect an entire group's quality of life, whether that is a family, workplace or other community. This is why we organised the Accessibility Adventure Park at last year's SDD: to connect the design profession with those directly affected, if only for a short time. Under the professional guidance of Klein Péter, Szántai Károly and Nagy Árpád, and with the support of one of the market-leading banks, we created the ‘prototype’ in a very short time. We wanted to provide an opportunity for designers and stakeholders involved in product development to gain first-hand experience of disabilities. It is very difficult to explain in words what it means to imagine that you cannot see or understand something. We created activities across five areas of ability (vision, hearing, mobility, cognitive ability and speech), and invited experiential experts directly affected to help participants in their respective areas by answering their questions. Many people told us afterwards that this kind of approach is needed.
Disability is a minority group that anyone can join, at any time, involuntarily
At Works., I now focus specifically on accessibility. We acquire some of the knowledge needed for auditing through practice, but there are also online courses on accessibility for different audiences. This is a rich field that affects everyone. It is worth understanding disabilities and conditions of different types and degrees, assistive technology, and the legal and social context – not just the technical requirements.
I am particularly interested in cognitive accessibility, the disability field affecting the broadest range of people. This is why I enrolled in the autism consultant course launched at Pázmány this year. The two-year programme trains professionals who can make environments accessible and educate different stakeholders at large companies employing thousands of people, universities, hospitals, police forces and museums.
The kerb-cut effect applies here too: it can be useful not only for them, but also for people who find communication difficult for other reasons – for example, those recovering from an injury, foreigners, people who struggle with waiting because they are with a small child, older people, or people living with severe anxiety. Disability is a minority group that anyone can join, at any time, involuntarily.