When parking is a sin
It is not always possible to find a conveniently located open space in a parking lot, and so most of us have a choice to make. We can take the first available spot we see, even if it is at the far end of the lot, or we can circle around endlessly until a closer space opens up.
The point, though, is that most of us have that choice, but not all of us. The mobility-challenged — people who are handicapped or who have a medical condition that limits mobility — have no choice. For them, parking in a reasonably accessible space is a necessity.
Until nearly 60 years ago, not every locality set some parking spaces aside to meet that need, and it incredibly took Congress until 1968 to even begin to correct it. That is when Congress passed the Architectural Barriers Act, requiring any facility that was constructed in whole or in part using federal funds to be accessible to people with disabilities, including providing parking spaces exclusively for them.
Properties that were built without federal funding, however, still were free to do as they pleased. In 1972, therefore, Congress tried to close that loophole by passing the Rehabilitation Act of 1973. From then on, all that mattered was whether the lot was owned by a facility of any kind that received as little as one dollar in federal funds for any reason.
That law, though, still left some loopholes where parking was concerned. Those were finally closed when President George H.W. Bush signed the Americans with Disability Act in 1990. The ADA requires that every parking facility (lot or garage) must have a minimum number of accessible handicap spaces based on the total number of available parking spaces in any given area of that facility. If a facility has parking below ground and additional parking above ground, the formula must be applied separately to each parking level. If a given area has spaces to the left side and the right side, with a separation in between, the formula must be applied separately to each side.
Handicap parking spaces are easily identifiable, and so are the vehicles entitled to use them. These vehicles either bear specially issued license plates, or the owner must hang a handicap placard from the vehicle’s rear-view mirror. Unfortunately, some of those plates and placards are being used illegally.
As difficult as it may be to believe, misuse of handicap parking permits is an all-too-common problem nationwide, according to law-enforcement agencies, disability advocates, and government officials. Although there is no comprehensive national database tracking the problem, it is estimated based on local audits that abuse ranges from anywhere between 10 percent and 40 percent nationwide.
One of the clearest recent examples of the breadth of this problem emerged earlier this year in Florida’s Miami-Dade County. Prompted by concerns raised during police parking enforcement sweeps, in March county officials launched a comprehensive review of all handicap parking permit applications processed in the immediately preceding 24 months. The results were startling.
The auditors began by examining roughly 15,000 applications that had been approved during the survey period. As a result, nearly 1,000 placards were revoked during that review, and approximately 5,000 applications were flagged for further investigation because of possible fraud.
That led the review to be expanded, and the numbers kept climbing. By late May, nearly 41,000 applications were reviewed and 4,707 permits were revoked. Authorities also uncovered evidence that some placards were being obtained through forged documentation and other fraudulent means, including having been purchased on the black market.
More disturbing to me is a 12-year-old statistic from Alexandria, Virginia. State law in Virginia permits drivers displaying disability placards to park at metered spaces without charge (neither New Jersey nor New York allow this, by the way). Because local governments in Virginia may opt out of that provision, Alexandria chose to do so in 2014, after a local police sweep found that approximately 90 percent of the disability placards and plates checked at metered parking spaces were allegedly being used illegally. Ninety percent! That is not a typo.
No one suggests that abuse rates in Virginia or anywhere else approach that astonishingly disturbing figure, but there is general agreement that placard misuse remains a serious, widespread, and persistent nationwide problem.
I find the Virginia findings particularly troubling because we have a grandchild living there who has cerebral palsy and available handicap-accessible parking spaces are a necessity. Yet the child’s parents, with palpable anguish, often speak about their struggle to find available spaces. For families living with mobility challenges, every illegally occupied space represents one less opportunity to participate fully in everyday life.
Misappropriating a handicap-accessible parking space is immoral and unethical, but morality and ethics in today’s world often take a back seat to convenience and self-interest.
Halachah, Jewish law, has much to say about the misappropriation of handicap-accessible spaces. At its core lies the principle that defines Torah law in general: “Do what is right and good in the sight of the Lord.” (See Deuteronomy 6:18.) That includes caring about the welfare of others, especially those who are vulnerable. Specific concern for such people is found throughout the Torah and the Oral Law.
Even before considering laws that directly address this issue, two broad halachic principles apply.
The first is “dina d’malchuta dina”—”the law of the land is the law.” Because secular law prohibits unauthorized use of handicap placards, license plates, and parking spaces, violating those laws also violates dina d’malchuta dina. (So wide a net does this law cast that it even includes jaywalking or blocking access to a crosswalk.)
The second principle is “chilul haShem,” the desecration of God’s Holy Name. When a visibly Jewish person violates a law, it sends a message that God’s law permits us to act dishonestly or with disregard for others. Such conduct reflects poorly not only on the individual but also on Judaism itself, and on the God whose law Jews follow.
Beyond those general principles, several specific prohibitions come into play.
The first is “gezel,” theft. Halachah considers illegally occupying a handicap-accessible space to be stealing that space.
The second prohibition is “lifnei iver,” which translates as “placing a stumbling block before the blind” (see Leviticus 19:14). This commandment was broadly interpreted by our Sages of Blessed Memory, but its literal meaning remains relevant. By occupying an accessible parking space, an able-bodied driver may force a disabled person either to abandon the trip altogether, or to navigate a longer, more hazardous route through a busy parking lot, thereby increasing both physical hardship and potential danger.
A third violation is “geneivat da’at,” literally “theft of knowledge.” Displaying a placard a person is not entitled to use is an act of misrepresentation directed at parking enforcement officers, business owners, the disabled, and the public. It is, quite simply, a lie and not a white lie, either.
The fourth principle—and perhaps the overriding one — is “kavod habriyot” — respect for human dignity.
Our Sages took this principle so seriously that the Talmud proclaims that human dignity “even overrides a prohibition of the Torah.” This was not meant to be taken literally, however. It was an exaggeration for effect. The statement actually means that human dignity overrides rabbinic prohibitions that the Sages derived from Torah law, thereby giving it an even wider reach. (See the Babylonian Talmud tractate B’rachot 19b.)
Kavod haBriyot derives from the very first chapter of the Torah, and it teaches us that every human being is created “B’Tzelem Elohim,” “in the image of God.” (See Genesis 1:27.) Therefore, every person — without qualification — possesses inherent dignity and worth. It follows that every person must be treated with respect, honor, and decency, including the vulnerable among us with special needs and/or who require special care.
A handicap parking space is not a convenience. It is not a privilege. It is not an invitation for someone who is “just running in for a minute.” It is a lifeline for people whose ability to participate in everyday life depends on having safe and reasonable access to where they need to go when they need to be there.
Kavod habriyot requires us to protect the vulnerable, preserve their dignity, and remove obstacles from their path. The Babylonian sage Ben Zoma said, “Who is the one who is honored? The person who observes kavod habriyot.” Ben Zoma derived that from what God is quoted as saying in I Samuel 2:30: “I honor [only] those who honor Me….” (See Mishnah Avot 4:1.) Dishonoring God’s image is dishonoring God.
Whenever we enter a parking area, therefore, we should view handicap-accessible spaces as visible reminders of our obligation to honor the divine image in every human being. If that means walking a few extra yards, or inconveniencing ourselves in some other way, that is a very small price to pay.
The “Golden Rule,” as originally stated by the great sage Hillel, is this: “What is hateful to you, do not do to another” (See BT Shabbat 31a). Before we co-opt a handicap-accessible parking space, we should remember that any one of us could someday be the person who depends on it. “There, but for the grace of God, go I.”
Shammai Engelmayer is a rabbi-emeritus of Congregation Beth Israel of the Palisades and an adult education teacher in Bergen County. He is the author of eight books and the winner of 10 awards for his commentaries. His website is www.shammai.org.
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