Apodaca: What inclusivity looks like in Orange County

By all accounts it was a happy day at San Miguel Park in Newport Beach when, late last month, the city dedicated its first playground designed to be accessible to people of all ability levels.

As reported by the Daily Pilot, the completion of the 5,500-square-foot play area was the culmination of a six-year effort inspired by a young resident, Alexis Portillo, who envisioned a facility that her nonverbal sister, Alanis, could safely use.

The renovated playground includes such features as a long tube slide that visitors with mobility issues can reach via a spiraling belt of suspended play mats, instead of stairs or ladders. It also has a wee-saw, a reimagined version of a see-saw that has seats with back support.

City leaders, speaking at the dedication, heaped praise on the Portillo family and others who worked on the project.

“This is a place where children and all of those who play can grow and connect together,” Mayor Joe Stapleton said. “On behalf of the entire city of Newport Beach and our entire City Council, I would like to thank the families, advocates and city staff who helped bring this dream to life. You’ve made Newport Beach a more inclusive, joyful place for everyone.”

Perla Portillo, mother to Alexis and Alanis, was equally effusive. She called the playground “a blessing,” and said she pictured her daughter using it every day.

“There’s very limited parks that have an all inclusive feel, that are accessible for children to go on ramps or feel safe on playgrounds, very few in all of Orange County,” she said.

Newport Beach’s Director of Recreation and Senior Services Sean Levin shared a statement.

“Today’s grand opening is a celebration of community collaboration, vision, and the guiding principle that every child deserves a place to play,” Levin said.

“We are proud to open this space and set a new standard for inclusive play.”

And there it was again. That word. “Inclusive.”

It’s gotten a bad rap lately due to the efforts by many politicians, including President Trump, to end initiatives aimed at improving inclusivity. I’m referring, of course, to the anti-DEI hysteria that is pressuring schools, workplaces, government agencies, states, and municipalities to abandon programs and policies that have helped their organizations operate more fairly.

DEI stands for diversity, equity and inclusion. The term refers to measures used to prevent discrimination, comply with civil rights laws and foster environments more welcoming to those from marginalized backgrounds — including people with disabilities.

Proponents of DEI maintain that efforts undertaken to value diverse viewpoints and experiences benefit all of society by creating opportunities that lead to safer, healthier, happier, more robust communities.

But DEI has become, in the minds of some, a means of discrimination itself, by subverting merit-based systems and putting white people — particularly white men — at a disadvantage.

The irony is that — absent the negative connotations attached to DEI — diversity, equity and inclusion are widely viewed as worthy goals.

Consider the above quotes, which all reference the opening of a more inclusive public space as a positive development. Whether they realized it or not, the people involved in the playground redesign gave credence to one of the primary objectives of DEI.

It’s also ironic that the demonization of DEI means that all such efforts are being painted with the same broad brush. Rather than conducting a careful and meaningful examination of what is working well among such initiatives — as well as which programs have missed the mark or would benefit from revisions — many organizations are capitulating and rolling back anything and everything viewed as DEI.

One more ironic twist is worth mentioning.

The $900,000 cost of the San Miguel Park renovation was paid for in part through federal Community Development Block Grant allocations.

Would such support be forthcoming in our climate today, where even the mention of the word “inclusive” can doom a project’s major source of funding?

Some companies, universities and other organizations are fighting back against the pressure to purge DEI, while many others are adopting a strategy involving changing the language they use and going quiet on their efforts to foster more diversity, equity and inclusion.

Amid this push and pull, it remains unclear how extensive and long-lasting the anti-DEI movement will prove to be. But the damage is already occurring. That’s why it’s imperative that we understand what it actually means to promote diversity, equity and inclusion.

I visited San Miguel Park on a recent afternoon.

Several children were cheerfully climbing, sliding and running about. As far as I could tell, they were all able-bodied and perfectly content with the play structures. I suspect they were unaware, or unbothered, that modifications were made so the playground is more accessible to kids who otherwise might not be able to join in.

That’s inclusivity. No one lost anything because someone else had an opportunity to participate.

A few days later I attended a performance of the wildly successful musical “Hamilton” at Segerstrom Hall in Costa Mesa. The racially diverse cast performed before an enthusiastic audience, while a few people to the side of the stage translated into sign language.

That’s inclusivity, too. And we’d do well to recognize what it would cost us if we stop trying to achieve it.