User experience, or “UX,” is a trendy term, and we hear it a lot in discussions around websites and other forms of digital technology. The intention is to create solutions that actually work for people so they can find the information or answer they seek in a short amount of time. But we don’t often associate user experience with the physical environment or take the time to consider that while that cobblestone courtyard might be pretty, it’s a nightmare for someone with a physical disability.
As reported by the CDC, 61 million, or 1 in 4, adults in the United States live with a disability. More than 23% of those fall into the mobility, hearing, or vision disability category, which makes everyday scenarios that may seem easily navigable to the rest of us quite daunting for those individuals. Naomi Sachs, assistant professor in Plant Science and Landscape Architecture, and her students are sensitive to their plight, and have decided to confront this issue head on with more inclusive design. “Design Empathy” is their branded phraseology, which is new and pioneering in the world of landscape architecture. Sachs and colleagues’ exploration extends beyond coursework as an exercise to enhance diversity, equity, and inclusion on the University of Maryland’s (UMD) campus and beyond.
Sachs aims to improve the user experience by making the physical environment more accessible and enjoyable for everyone. Her approach focuses on having her students use “design empathy equipment” that simulates physical impairments, many of which are associated with aging. She believes such design empathy exercises will help the students create more inclusive and equitable projects.
“Most students haven’t actually experienced any sort of physical disability first hand, so making that intellectual leap is really different, and a profound experience that stays with them,” said Sachs. “Suddenly they are able to think about and literally feel how this environment would be to someone in a wheelchair, or using a walker that has tiny wheels, or an IV pole that has even smaller wheels.”
Sachs’ own experience with design empathy equipment, while taking a healthcare design course, made a lasting impression: “I’ll never forget how hard it was to navigate slightly irregular paving with a wheelchair. It’s really hard to imagine until you actually try it.”
Graduate students are introduced to the tenets of design empathy in year one of Sachs’ Master of Landscape Architecture design studio. Undergraduate students experience it in their second studio course during their sophomore year. Sachs drops them directly into real world environments and places them in wheelchairs, walkers, and a space-agey getup called a GERT Suit (short for Gerontologic simulator), a fascinating aging-simulation device that packs on an extra 50 pounds to mimic muscle loss while also limiting mobility, and drastically reducing hearing and sight. She wants to hear from students on how they fare in locations like Kenilworth Aquatic Gardens in D.C., which featured a frustrating pea gravel paving surface, and also on-campus locations like Hornbake Plaza, a gateway to many key buildings on campus. Feedback has ranged from “anxiety inducing,” to “nerve-wracking,” to “hard and inaccessible.”
“I wore the geriatric simulation suit over to the design site. Initially, the extra weight threw me off balance and removed all spring from my step,” said one of her first year MLA students last semester. “I noticed that between earplugs, headphones and open space, sounds were muffled together and my hearing was severely diminished. My field of vision was blocked as well by the goggles which sent me stooping forward as I struggled to see the terrain in front of my leaden, shuffling feet.”
Another student who was walking in the GERT Suit between two buildings on campus remarked, “wow, there should really be more benches here.”
While the GERT Suit may offer the opportunity for the most comprehensive experience, Sachs believes that the ordinary wheelchair may be the best design empathy tool. It is more portable, cheaper, and relatable.
“It makes students aware of materials and how much they matter when you can’t just easily walk over them, as well as things like doorways that are so awkward to navigate,” said Sachs. It’s an entirely different way of looking at things when you place yourself in the shoes of someone with a disability.”
Sachs also hopes that students who use the design empathy equipment will realize that there are other “invisible disabilities,” like autism spectrum disorder, depression, or psychosis that deserve empathy: “If I have an ʻahaʼ moment with a wheelchair, what more in life would open my eyes and heart in ways I cannot imagine?”
Sachs has some upcoming campus projects on the horizon, and she's hopeful she can work with Facilities Management to redesign and manage outdoor spaces beyond lawn mowing and tree trimming. She and her students have idealistic, yet attainable, visions for what could make UMD a more accessible campus. She’s also eager to work with the university’s facilities master planning committee and believes that design empathy should play a role as the group strives to “integrate planned development with utilities infrastructure, site, landscape, sustainability, and multi-modal transportation circulation that will enhance the connectivity of campus facilities and the university’s surrounding communities.” Visit: facilities.umd.edu/facilities-master-plan for more information.
“Facilities Management may be resistant because they have budgetary considerations, with only enough resources to mow the lawn and trim the trees once a year,” said Sachs. “But we can do better. Let’s work together to design something that is realistic and empathetic. I’m ready to collaborate!”
by Graham Binder : Momentum Winter 2023
