The Inaccessibility of ACRL 2021

This guest post is provided by Katie Quirin Manwiller, MLIS, Instruction & Assessment Librarian at DeSales University.

After the 2019 ACRL Conference, I wrote a guest ACRLog post about conferencing while chronically ill and the challenges I faced attending my first national library conference. At the time, I thought it was my responsibility to adapt to the conference setting if I wanted to be professionally active. After spending the last two years studying disability in librarianship and coming to terms with my own disabled identity, I realized that the accessibility of our national conferences should not be left up to the individual library workers with illness and/or disability. It is the responsibility of those putting on the conference to provide an accessible and inclusive experience. And while some aspects of the ACRL 2021 were indeed more accessible than 2019, it fell far short of providing equitable access to disabled librarians.

On face value, an all virtual conference is much more accessible for me. I live with Hypermobility Ehlers Danlos Syndrome (hEDS), fibromyalgia, Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (POTS), and Mast Cell Activation Syndrome (MCAS). I have daily symptoms that include musculoskeletal pain, chronic fatigue, and cognitive difficulties (also called brain fog). These symptoms make the physicality of national conferences almost unbearable: traveling to and from the city, navigating hotels and conference rooms, and being mentally engaged in session content and professional interactions. Not to mention sick time off to recuperate from the experience. Attending a conference from my bed with supportive pillows and a heating pad eliminates most of those concerns. I can easily rest when I get mentally fatigued and do not need to worry about crossing expansive conference spaces in search of the one quiet room.

So when ACRL 2021 was announced as virtual I was excited. Not only would I be presenting my research on academic librarians with invisible illness and/or disability and moderating a panel of librarians with invisible disabilities, I wouldn’t have to navigate the many ways in-person conferences are inaccessible to me. The advent of COVID-19 and shift to virtual seemed like it would make professional involvement more accessible for disabled folks. Virtual attendance and remote work has long been advocated for as a tool for accessibility. But after attending ACRL 2021, I realized there are still many ways to leave behind people with disabilities in the virtual environment.

It became apparent that accessibility was not integral in conference planning when the directions for presenters were released. All presentations were pre-recorded, and some had live Q&A sessions. ACRL directed presenters to use automatic captioning features to caption their sessions, first with Zoom (which they must have figured out doesn’t provide auto-captions for all accounts) and then using Google Slides. Unfortunately, as many people involved in accessibility know, automatic captions do not provide equitable access. They often lack correct grammar, punctuation, differentiation between homonyms, or clarification on technical terms, jargon, or proper nouns. It is not difficult to learn of the inaccessibility of auto-captions, as even a quick Google search – well within the expertise of academic librarians – shows years of criticism for auto-captions on sites like YouTube.

As a disabled presenter, it felt like captions were nothing but an afterthought in planning. Like late in the game someone asked, “Oh yeah shouldn’t we have captions?” and the planning committee threw together the easiest and cheapest option for them to do so. And despite the fact that sessions were required to be submitted almost a month in advance, there was no apparent review of captions. Captioning varied widely throughout the sessions. Some presentations (like mine) had edited, large-text, and easily readable captions that matched the recording. Others followed the directive to use Google Slides auto-captions, which were very small on screen and words appeared and changed as the presenters spoke, making it difficult to follow along. Then there were some sessions with no captions at all. And almost universally, the emoji buttons the platform so helpfully provided to engage with the sessions covered up captions. 

Captions are an essential aspect of recordings because they benefit everyone. They make it possible for Deaf and Hard of Hearing folks to engage with the material, improve concentration for neurodivergent people and those like me who struggle with brain fog, and can help comprehension for non-disabled individuals. They should be the bare minimum for accessible practices, but ACRL’s half-hearted attempt at captions proved more difficult than helpful.

And it wasn’t just the captioning that made this virtual conference hard to navigate as a disabled librarian. The session recordings with a live Q&A played at a scheduled time without the ability to pause the recording. Trying to take notes and follow a condensed session was often overwhelming for my tired brain. I know other librarians with disabilities who stopped watching the live Q&A sessions all together, waiting until the recordings became available with a pause afterwards as it was the only way to stay cognitively engaged with the session. This, of course, meant they missed out on material since the live Q&As were not recorded. The conference platform also proved problematic when trying to use assistive technology. One of the panelists in my session had to turn off a screen reader to be able to appear in the live video Q&A. ACRL did provide live caption for Q&A sessions but only for people who requested accommodations, seeming to do just what was required to meet ADA requirements and no more.

By the end of the week, I was extremely frustrated with a conference I had assumed would be a pleasantly accessible experience. Despite the fact that ACRL included several sessions on disability, they did not appear to include library workers with disability in their planning. So I emailed the Conference Manager, Tory Ondria, expressing disappointment that the remarkably expensive virtual conference (attendance started around $300 for salaried librarians) somehow could not afford captioning services. Interim Executive Director of ACRL Kara Malenfant responded as staff was on furlough. I followed up with a list of specific questions as to the ways accessibility was part of the 2021 Conference planning process: 

  • What specific accessibility concerns did you evaluate when choosing a platform? Was an accessibility audit performed?
  • Was ensuring accessibility largely left up to the chosen platform?
  • Who from ACRL oversaw accessibility concerns and testing for the conference? What experience with accessibility and/or disability do they have?
  • Why was a platform that (presumably) did not include captioning chosen?
  • The auto-caption directive for presenters seemed like an afterthought. How early into planning for the virtual conference were captions considered?
  • What research, if any, was done into captioning options? Why was auto-captioning, despite being far less effective than correct, added captions, chosen?
  • In a broader sense, how are library workers with disabilities included in the planning of ACRL conferences?

I expected to get a response along the lines of accessibility was left up to the platform or maybe which portion of the planning committee addressed accessibility concerns, both of which I considered bare minimums. But unfortunately, I was shocked to find that ACRL could shatter my already low expectations. Here’s the response to the above questions I received, in full, shared with permission from Kara Malenfant: “Thanks, Katie, for your helpful and detailed questions. They can certainly help shape reporting to the ACRL Board and our Conference Committee as well as inform work going forward on improving accessibility for future events.”

That was it. No attempt to answer any of my questions. When I asked if there was anyone else who may be able to answer my questions, I was again told that “[W]e learned a lot from our experiences. Things were not perfect, but we did try.” And yet, I received no details about how they tried beyond live captioning accommodation requests. Nothing about how the conference platform was chosen or the session accessibility standards. Only statements about how they will incorporate my concerns for future conferences.

I went into this conference knowing that library organizations provide virtually no support to library workers with disabilities. After all, my panel was titled “Who’s Missing from EDI Advocacy?” and it highlighted the ways ACRL does not support disabled librarians beyond including them in blanket EDI statements. But ACRL 2021 was not only disappointing, it was demoralizing. I received confirmation that the organization that spouts the importance of an equitable profession addresses accessibility as an afterthought. I feel dubious about the effectiveness of any ACRL EDI efforts because the roots of ableism, like racism, are embedded deep in white supremacy culture. Disability intersects in innumerable ways with other marginalized identities. How can we be growing more inclusive as a profession if part of those identities are completely ignored?

I’m left thinking about a friend’s tweet: “Why do library orgs act like disabled library workers don’t exist?” To go a step farther, why should disabled library workers engage with and give money to professional organizations who do nothing to support, protect, or understand us? How can we ensured our lived experience and knowledge will still be shared outside of an inaccessible professional community?

8 thoughts on “The Inaccessibility of ACRL 2021”

  1. Good write-up, Katie! I also had to ask for a spreadsheet of the schedule because the way they were displaying it (using AirTable) wasn’t accessible with my screen reader either. And I talked to some speakers who just needed a little tiny guidance on creating a subtitle file to be able to move beyond the automatic Google Slides or Zoom Live Transcription options. But then, even with a conference where I was the accessibility committee chair, we couldn’t get the organizers to move beyond the Zoom Live Transcription. We’ve still got a lot of work to do, sadly.

  2. Every ACRL member and ACRL event participant who takes time to correspond with ACRL deserves a thoughtful response to their queries. EVERY single member, to every query. Why? because it is a member organization. When a substantive response can’t or doesn’t happen we have an interest as members in finding out “why”. Your questions and the time you’ve spent communicating with ACRL about the conferences should not be treated like a gift of labor offered happily up for the “ACRL Board and our Conference Committee.” While it’s great that your questions will “inform work going forward on improving accessibility for future [ACRL] events” I’m disappointed that ACRL as a dues receiving member org didn’t provide a substantive response to your member/participant queries. It saddens me. What are our dues, our collegial responsibilities good for if not exactly this sort of thing. EVERY members’ queries and time matter – your’s, as well the time of the members of the board, staff, and conference committee. Thank you for taking the time and effort to write this up. I’m not heartened by what I learned but I had a learning experience reading your guest post.

  3. Jon Cawthorne (ACRL President) and Kara Malenfant (ACRL Interim Executive Director) says:

    Dear Katie, thank you for pointing out that we didn’t meet expectations for inclusion and accessibility. We apologize that the support for you and other library workers with disabilities at the virtual conference was not more robust.

    You’ve asked powerful questions that will help guide our plans for ACRL 2023. We would like to invite you to join the conference planning committee so that we can benefit from your lived experience and knowledge.

    You may be interested to see how ACRL is communicating about the accessibility and inclusion services we are offering at our next event:–inclusion

    We want ACRL to be welcoming and inclusive for all library workers, so thank you again for helping us see where we need to do better. – Jon and Kara

  4. Thank you for the response, Jon and Kara. I appreciate the services being offered at RBMS this year, and hope they can be incorporated into future ACRL programs (including events like webinars). I look forward to continuing to advocate for accessibility within our professional community.

  5. Thank you so much for writing this Katie, and for your other disability advocacy work. The failures you note here are not only something for ACRL to consider, but every organization putting on in-person, hybrid, or virtual events. As another librarian with disabilities (I also have hEDS, POTS, and MCAS) I have long pushed through in-person conferences–the exhausting travel, long walks through huge conference halls, no access to healthy food inside the conference centers, having to miss parts of conferences because I need to recover from the previous day, and as you point out taking sick days after conferences to recover from the toll on our bodies. Post-COVID I am seriously considering not even attempting to attend in-person conferences anymore…and I know other librarians with disabilities who are thinking the same. That makes it that much more important for the virtual/remote elements to be truly accessible to all, and for more virtual participation to be enabled. That not only benefits those of us with disabilities, but those without the resources or employer support to travel for professional development. Thank you so much for drawing attention to these important issues.

  6. Hi Katie,

    I read your last post and this one as well. Thank you for speaking out; it’s hard to do with disabilities. I also found the platform to be difficult and hard to manage. I was watching on my iPad and having so much trouble clicking between sessions, being able to ask questions or respond, and ended up just giving up half the time.

    I have rheumatoid arthritis and hypokalemic periodic paralysis, so I’m also unsure if I’ll realistically be able to attend conferences in person. I’m hoping to get involved more with disability in library conferences and host peaceful rooms where people with disabilities can come rest and recharge (and maybe make a friend or two).

    I wish at conferences that we could get a disability buddy to help with navigating or just simply having a friend who understands you at the conference.

    I would love to chat more with anyone here about all of this.


  7. Thanks for your kind words, Sarah, I’m glad this post resonated with you (and it’s also “fun” to meet another EDSer). I’m hoping we can incorporate a more hybrid approach to conferences and that accessibility can be factored in from the beginning. I definitely don’t want to go back to “normal” because “normal” wasn’t working for everyone.

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