Transit Equity Day 2026: We Organize. We Ride. We Rise.

By Allison Donald

Transit Equity Day is more than a local event. Each year, it honors Rosa Parks’ birthday and her lasting contributions to transit equity and civil rights. Her quiet act of resistance — and the 381 days of people power that sustained the Montgomery Bus Boycott — remind us that transportation has always been about dignity, access, and collective action.

That history grounded Transit Equity Day 2026 in Memphis.

On a Saturday morning at the Orange Mound Community Center, community members came together not just to listen, but to participate. From the start, the focus was on inclusion and care — making sure everyone could fully engage, move comfortably, and contribute in ways that worked for them. It reflected a simple truth: transit equity begins with who gets to show up.

Throughout the morning, the theme We Organize. We Ride. We Rise. was not just spoken — it was practiced.

At the Show and Prove table, participants wrote postcards and statements calling for better public transit in Memphis. These messages addressed real concerns: affordability, accessibility, service reliability, and accountability. They will be delivered to Memphis City Council and other decision-makers because the people who rely on transit everyday deserve to be heard.

At the 40K Strong Rider Station, riders shared their experiences with public transit and how it shapes daily life. Seven new rider stories were recorded during the event, adding to a growing archive of voices for advocacy and accountability.

One moment captured the stakes with striking clarity. A 64-year-old woman, Vernice Foster, who has never driven a car, was asked what she would do without public transit. After a pause, she simply replied, “Nothing.” 

Another rider, Myron Draine, shared the personal cost of unreliable service: “I lost a job some years ago because of public transportation. I couldn’t make it on time, so they let me go.” 

These voices made clear that transit failures are not abstract — they are life-changing.

One of the most powerful moments came from Dorothy Connor, who connected today’s transit challenges to a long legacy of organizing in Memphis. Her words reminded everyone that change has never come from waiting — it comes from people staying engaged, even when progress feels slow.

The program also included remarks from Rodrick Holmes, MATA Trustee, who discussed the current state of transit and the challenges facing the system, underscoring the need for transparency, dialogue, and continued public engagement.

Looking ahead, participants gathered at the Get on the Bus roundtable to discuss what a truly effective public transit system in Memphis would look like. Riders described routes that actually connect neighborhoods, service that is frequent and reliable, stops that are safe and accessible, and a system designed around the people who use it. The conversation grounded vision in lived experience — not abstract planning, but practical change.

As I shared, speaking to the group, the coalition is urging Memphis City Council to increase funding for public transit. Riders deserve a system that is reliable, accessible, and works for the people who depend on it every day.

The first next step is joining us at Mayor Paul Young’s State of the City address, Tuesday, February 10, 2026, from 5:00–7:30 p.m. at First Baptist Broad, 2835 Broad Avenue. Transit riders and advocates will be present, listening closely and making our presence known.

This event also produced seven new rider videos, amplifying voices that will continue to drive accountability. Showing up together is how momentum becomes movement.

For ongoing updates and opportunities to get involved, visit DisabilityMidsouth.org 

We organize. We ride. We rise — together.

Rodrick Holmes Transit Equity Day Remarks

EDITOR’S NOTE: Rodrick Holmes spoke at Transit Equity Day on February 7, 2026. I asked him to hand-hold the microphone and he departed from his speech. These are his unedited prepared remarks. 

Good morning, and thank you all for being here.

Before I talk about transit equity, I want to tell you about a young man.

He is working full time. He is going to school. He is trying to be a present father. He is doing that math a lot of people know well how to stretch time, money, and energy just a little bit further than seems possible. 

He is running on coffee, deadlines, and optimism. He is late more often than he wants to be, early only by accident, and convinced that if he can just keep moving, everything will eventually work itself out. 

He is not thinking about transportation policy. He is not thinking about funding formulas or equity frameworks. He is thinking about making it to work on time. Making it to class. Making it home before bedtime.

He is just trying to keep moving. 

And here is the part that took him years to understand the reason he could keep moving day after day was because transit was there. Reliable. Affordable. Unremarkable in the best possible way. 

That young man was me.

I was a young father trying to balance responsibility and ambition, doing what so many people do working to build something better while holding on to the people who mattered most. I did not have the luxury of stopping. And it was not until many years later that I realized public transit had quietly played a huge role in my story.

That is why Transit Equity Day matters to me. 

Transit Equity Day is about more than buses, routes, or fares. It is about access. It is about dignity. And it is about whether people can reliably get to work, school, healthcare, and home without having to choose between transportation and the other necessities of life. 

This day is intentionally observed on the birthday of Rosa Parks, not just to remember a historic moment, but to recognize an enduring truth: mobility is power. 

When people can move freely and affordably, opportunity expands. When they cannot, inequities widen quickly and quietly. 

Public transit is often invisible when it works well. No one throws a parade for a bus that arrives on time. But when transit fails, the consequences are immediate. Missed shifts. Missed medical appointments. Lost wages. Increased stress and isolation.

For many riders, transit is not a convenience. It is the difference between stability and crisis.

That is what we mean when we talk about transit equity.

Transit equity means that safe, reliable, and affordable transportation is not a privilege, but a public good. It means systems designed around how people actually live and work, not how we wish they did. It means understanding that transportation costs are often the second largest household expense after housing and that every dollar saved on mobility matters. 

Here in Memphis, public transit makes real things possible every single day. It connects people to jobs across the city. It supports students, seniors, people with disabilities, and families without consistent access to a car. It fuels our workforce and strengthens our local economy.

When transit works, people show up. To work. To school. To care for my family. To participate in their community.

That brings me to where we are today as a system. 

Over the past several months, our focus has been on stabilization, reliability, and trust.

Operationally, we are seeing real, measurable improvements. Fleet availability has increased, meaning more buses are available each morning to meet daily service demands. Maintenance performance has improved significantly, with strong gains in miles between service events, one of the clearest indicators of reliability and safety.

Those improvements are not accidental. They are the result of disciplined maintenance schedules, reopened parts and service pipelines, and clearer accountability across operations. They reflect a system doing the fundamentals better, day after day.

We are also making progress on staffing, training, and internal coordination. Reliability is not just about equipment. It is about people, processes, and consistency. When those elements align, service improves.

Affordability remains central to the equity conversation. Free fares have reduced immediate financial barriers for riders and increased ridership. While free fares alone are not a permanent solution, they tell us something important: when cost barriers are lowered, people use transit more. Access matters.

At the same time, we are strengthening financial controls and internal oversight to ensure resources are used responsibly and transparently. Equity and accountability are not competing values. They depend on each other. A system that is equitable must also be sustainable.

I want to be clear that this progress does not mean the work is finished.

Transit systems are complex. They reflect decades of decisions, investments, and disinvestment. Rebuilding reliability and trust takes time, consistency, and honest communication.

But direction matters. And today, the direction is forward.

Transit Equity Day is both a reminder and a commitment. A reminder that transportation has always been tied to civil rights, economic opportunity, and public health. And a commitment that the work of improving access, reliability, and fairness must continue deliberately and responsibly.

For me, this work is personal. I think about that younger version of myself, the young father just trying to keep moving. I think about how many people today are in that same place, juggling responsibility and hope, relying on a system that has to work. 

Transit did not just help me get from point A to point B. It helped make possibility real at a time when stopping was not an option.

That is why transit equity matters. Not in theory. In practice. In people's lives.

Thank you for being here, for caring about this work, and for being part of the ongoing effort to ensure public transportation in Memphis is reliable, accessible, and worthy of the people who depend on it.

Thank you.

• Rodrick Holmes 

Expectant Mother Parking vs. Accessible Spaces?

Accessible Parking is Not A Convenience, It’s A Civil Right

 

By Christina Clift

You might have noticed in some parking lots across Memphis and beyond, a trend has started to appear: designated parking spaces for expectant mothers placed right next to store entrances. At first glance, these signs may seem compassionate or even progressive. After all, pregnancy can be exhausting, uncomfortable, and physically demanding. However, when these spaces are added at the expense of accessible parking for people with disabilities, the result is not inclusion—it’s exclusion.

Accessible parking spaces exist for a specific and legally defined reason. They are not “close parking,” “special treatment,” or a courtesy extended by a business out of kindness. They are required to ensure that people with disabilities can safely and independently access goods, services, or possibly employment. When those spaces are reduced, replaced, or informally repurposed, people with disabilities are the ones who pay the price.

 

“Being pregnant doesn’t mean you should be entitled to extra perks or treated like an invalid, you’re just pregnant,” said Katina Johnson, a mother of four. “I see people getting out of vehicles parked in accessible parking spaces that don’t look like they have anything wrong with them. If they don’t have a disability then that’s wrong. People shouldn’t use these spaces just because they want a parking space close to the door. There are people with disabilities that really need those spaces.”

It is important to be clear: some pregnant women absolutely have disabilities. Pregnancy can worsen existing conditions or lead to complications that significantly limit mobility, stamina, or balance. In those cases, individuals may qualify for accessible parking and should be encouraged to speak with their healthcare provider. Doctors—not businesses, not store managers, and not sign manufacturers—should not be  the ones who determine whether someone meets the medical criteria for a disability parking placard or license plate. That system already exists, and it works when followed correctly.

The problem arises when pregnancy itself is treated as a blanket justification for special parking access. Pregnancy, by definition, is temporary. Disability is not always temporary, and for many people, accessible parking is the difference between being able to enter a building independently or not being able to enter at all. Creating “expectant mother” spaces by converting or crowding out accessible parking ignores this reality and undermines the purpose of those spaces.

Many businesses that install pregnancy parking signs do so without understanding accessibility requirements. Federal law sets minimum standards for the number, size, location, and signage of accessible parking spaces. These spaces must be closest to accessible entrances, include eight foot access aisles for mobility devices, and be clearly marked for use by people with valid placards or plates. When a business swaps an accessible space for a pregnancy-only space—or squeezes both into the same area—it risks violating both the letter and spirit of the law.

Even when pregnancy parking is added elsewhere in a lot, it often creates confusion and resentment. People with disabilities are frequently questioned, confronted, or judged for using accessible spaces. Adding more unofficial “priority” categories reinforces the harmful idea that disability must be visible, extreme, or comparable to another condition to be valid. That mindset hurts everyone.

If businesses truly want to support pregnant customers, there are better and more inclusive solutions. They can add general courtesy spaces that do not replace accessible parking. They can offer curbside pickup, delivery options, benches near entrances, or flexible assistance from staff. These approaches expand access without taking it away from someone else.

At Disability Connection Midsouth, we believe the answer to access challenges is not competition—it’s expansion. The solution is not fewer accessible parking spaces but more of them. Parking lots should be designed with the understanding that accessibility benefits everyone: people with disabilities, older adults, parents with strollers, and yes, pregnant individuals who may need extra support.

Accessible parking is a civil right rooted in independence and equal participation in community life. Treating it as optional or interchangeable sends the wrong message. Compassion should never come at the expense of equity.

We urge businesses, planners, and community members to pause before celebrating pregnancy-designated parking spaces. Ask whose access is being reduced, whose needs are being deprioritized, and whether the decision aligns with true inclusion. When we protect and expand accessible parking, we build communities that work better for everyone.

The Hidden Costs of Blindness

The Hidden Costs of Blindness — Beyond What Meets the Eye

By Kendra Brown, DCM Independent Living Specialist
Living with blindness or low vision has costs far beyond what many people notice at first glance. For a parent raising kids, those costs can intensify and affect nearly every aspect of daily life: from routine expenses (transportation, healthcare, assistive devices) to less obvious ones (lost income, extra care time, limited mobility).

The economic weight of vision loss and blindness in the United States is substantial, reaching an estimated $134.2 billion annually according to research cited by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. This staggering total is primarily driven by $98.7 billion in direct costs, which encompass essential medical care, specialized vision services, and the expenses associated with nursing home care.

Beyond these immediate medical expenditures, the nation incurs an additional $35.5 billion in indirect costs. These figures represent the broader economic impact of the condition, including lost productivity due to reduced labor force participation and the significant value of unpaid or informal care provided by family and friends. When viewed on an individual scale, these collective expenses translate to an average annual burden of approximately $16,838 for every person living with vision loss or blindness.

Extra Financial Strain for Blind or Low-Vision Families (“The Disability Squeeze”)

One report from the American Foundation for the Blind (AFB) describes what they call the “disability squeeze” — the economic strain many blind or low-vision (BLV) people experience: (The American Foundation for the Blind)

• In a 2023 survey of 288 BLV people, 80% reported having out-of-pocket disability-related expenses, with the average annual out-of-pocket cost around $6,743. (The American Foundation for the Blind)

• Many respondents reported unmet needs: 68% had at least one unmet disability-related need (e.g., assistive devices, accessible transport), and 39% said they struggled to make ends meet because of disability-related costs. (The American Foundation for the Blind)

• Around 25% said they cut back on essentials — like food — because of these costs, and 26% reported going into debt because of disability-related expenses. (The American Foundation for the Blind)

For a family with children, such financial strain can be even harder: when a substantial portion of income goes to disability-related costs, there’s less left for children’s needs — school supplies, healthy food, clothing, childcare, emergencies, etc.

Why Raising Kids as a Blind or Disabled Parent May Cost Even More

When a parent is blind or visually impaired and raising kids, several overlapping cost factors emerge or increase:

• Assistive technologies and aids: Devices, mobility aids, screen readers or other adaptive tech, and regular maintenance — many blind adults rely on these long-term.

• Health and supportive services: Frequent medical or optometric and ophthalmologic visits, possible home care, special services for children (transportation, supervision), etc.

• Reduced ability to work or lower earnings: As documented, blindness often leads to reduced labor force participation or employment at fewer hours, less pay, or unemployment — which reduces household income. (CDC)

• Informal caregiving burden: For children especially, the parent or other family members may need to spend additional time or hire help for childcare — which adds costs or reduces available time for paid work.

• Household-level income shortfall plus extra expenses means less disposable income to meet both disability-related and children-related needs.

One broader analysis, not limited to blindness but to disability in general, estimates that households with a disabled adult need on average 28% more income —~$17,690 more per year — to maintain the same standard of living as a comparable household without a disabled member. (The Century Foundation) This helps illustrate the gap many disabled families face.

Government Support — Helpful, But Often Not Enough

There are programs meant to help, but data suggests they often fall short of fully covering the real added costs.

• For working-age adults who are blind and receive disability benefits via Social Security Administration (SSA), the average monthly benefit amount (per data from December 2023) is around $1,537 per month (mean), median $1,410/month. (researchondisability.org)

• Even with SSI/SSDI and other support, many BLV families still report out-of-pocket disability-related expenses and unmet needs. (The American Foundation for the Blind)

Given how frequently BLV respondents in surveys report spending ~$6,700 each year out-of-pocket — or cutting back on essentials — it becomes clear that government support often does not fully offset the added cost burden of blindness and parenting.

What These Challenges Mean in Real Life — For Blind Parents Raising Children

Based on the data and reports cited above, a blind or visually-impaired parent might realistically face a relentless financial squeeze that ripples through every aspect of a family’s life. It begins with the heavy burden of extra out-of-pocket expenses, where specialized medical care and essential assistive devices can drain hundreds or even thousands of dollars from the budget each year. This strain is further intensified by a reduced capacity to earn, leaving the household with significantly less income to cover basic living costs and children’s expenses.

As a result, parents are frequently forced into making impossible choices, weighing the need for life-altering specialized equipment against fundamental essentials like food, clothing, and school supplies. This precarious balance creates a high risk of debt, food insecurity, and housing or hygiene hardships, leaving many basic needs unmet for both the parent and the child. Ultimately, the constant cycle of stress and financial instability does more than just deplete a bank account; it can deeply impact children’s long-term well-being, limiting their educational opportunities, extracurricular activities, and the overall stability they need to flourish.

Why It’s More Than Just Money

Beyond these direct costs, the impact of living with a visual impairment extends into the very fabric of daily life, beginning with the significant time investments required for routine tasks. Blind parents often find that activities others might take for granted—such as navigating new environments, preparing children for school, or coordinating specialized care—demand much more time and meticulous planning. This lack of time is often compounded by limited professional flexibility; work hours may be fewer or less stable, which makes long-term financial planning and career progression significantly harder to achieve.

The intersection of this financial strain and the demanding nature of caregiving responsibilities often takes a profound mental and emotional toll. The resulting chronic stress can diminish a parent’s overall quality of life and their capacity to provide emotional support, creating a heavy burden for the entire family. Furthermore, these challenges frequently limit access to the broader community. Due to mobility barriers, the high cost of specialized services, or a lack of accessible transportation and childcare, both parents and children may miss out on the extracurricular activities and social opportunities that are vital for development and connection.

What Could Help — Policy Implications and Community Support

Given these challenges, several steps could significantly improve the situation for blind parents with children:

1. Increase financial supports — disability benefits sometimes don’t match real costs; more targeted subsidies for assistive technologies, childcare, transport would help.

2. Accessible childcare and education services — ensuring local childcare, after-school programs, and schools are accessible and can support parents with disabilities.

3. Employment supports and accommodations — programs like the Ticket to Work Program (through SSA) aim to help blind and disabled adults re-enter the workforce under more flexible terms. (Choose Work!)

4. Awareness and community resources — many needs go unrecognized; communities, nonprofits, and social agencies can help by offering adaptive parenting resources, peer support, and financial counseling.

5. Policy reforms to better reflect real costs — analyses like the one showing BLV households spending 27% of income on disability-related expenses suggest that cost-of-living adjustments for disability benefits are overdue. (The American Foundation for the Blind)

Final Thoughts: A Reality Often Unseen

Being a parent is challenging for anyone — but when a parent is blind (or otherwise visually impaired), those challenges can multiply in often invisible ways. Beyond the love, care, and dedication required to raise children, blind parents may also carry the burden of extra expenses, reduced income, and hard trade-offs that many don’t see or understand.

Yet, with clearer awareness of the numbers — the $134.2 billion national burden, the $6,700 average out-of-pocket costs for BLV people, the need for 28% more income for disabled households just to maintain a standard of living — we can begin to understand just how steep the climb can be.

If we care about equity and supporting families, we must recognize: raising kids under disability isn’t just a personal challenge — it’s a structural issue that calls for better policies, community support, and real investment.