"Independence can come at a high price" ... Graeme Innes.

"Independence can come at a high price" ... Graeme Innes. Photo: Janie Barrett



One of the many clever things that my teachers at the North Rocks School for Blind Children did was to invent a game called railway fun. It used a large sheet of plywood, with little cups glued onto it to represent each of the Sydney railway stations. They were all labelled in braille. Using this game, we entertained ourselves while learning the railway system, an incredibly useful piece of knowledge for blind students.


I've spent much of my life on trains. Mum didn't drive, so we used them a lot to get around as children. I went to eisteddfods on trains. I went to watch NSW play at the SCG on trains. We visited friends on trains, and went to Newcastle to visit my aunt on trains.


As I grew up, I went to barrack for the Magpies - now the Tigers - with my brother on trains. And when I started using a white cane and travelling alone, I visited friends, went to social events, to university and work on trains. They are an integral part of my life.


In fact, I refuse to live more than walking distance from a railway station. I've used trains in Sydney, in Perth, in London and in New York - places where I have lived and worked.


Being able to use trains has been a key part of my independence. I can find my way to the station. I can find the right platform. I can get onto the train, and find a seat. But how do I know where I am?


My knowledge of the train system, and the announcements on our stations, mean I can usually catch the right train. But, once I'm on board, it becomes harder. Sometimes the stations are announced, but not always. Where the announcements are automatic, they are pretty reliable. But where the announcements are done manually, on the older trains where the PA equipment is not as good, the reliability drops.


What option does that leave me? I can try to listen to the sounds outside - the sounds of tunnels and bridges - but that's hard through closed doors and sealed windows. I can count stations, but it's easy to lose count. As a last resort, I ask other passengers. This always is the last resort because - in empty trains - they are hard to find, and you often don't get the right information when you do find them.


These methods often don't work. My family calls it train tennis - going past my station, coming back, and (on one famous occasion) missing it for the second time. Like the tennis ball crossing the net but not landing on it.


Journeys without announcements are far less relaxing for me - I can't read, think or sleep. They cause me tension and headaches, and my normally sunny personality takes a turn towards the dark side.


And why should I not have the information, just because I happen not to be able to see? All I asked RailCorp to do, as it does for passengers who can see, is tell me where I am.


I, and others who are blind, asked when the NSW Anti-Discrimination Act was changed in 1981 to cover the ground of disability. I, and others who are blind, asked again when the federal Disability Discrimination Act was passed in 1992. And we asked again in 2007 when announcements were required by the Disability Standards for Accessible Public Transport passed under the Disability Discrimination Act.


RailCorp's response has always been: ''We understand the problem. It's on our list of things to fix - in our own sweet time.'' So while blind people in most other cities in the world know where they are on a train, those in Sydney have to wait.


I got tired of waiting. So, after due warning, I began to lodge discrimination complaints every time I rode on a train and was not told where I was. But RailCorp intransigence continued. Not prepared to accept my many offers of settlement, it fought me all the way to the Federal Court. After much soul-searching and prayer with my wife, I ran a case in which - if I had been unsuccessful and had costs awarded against me - we could have lost our house.


Independence can come at a high price. But hopefully RailCorp will now accept the umpire's decision, and tell me where I am.


Graeme Innes is Australia's Disability Discrimination Commissioner