A few years ago, I wrote of my frustration trying to buy a Tesla. There was no mobility program, no rebate on hand controls, and no way to test drive one with adaptive equipment installed. It felt like a company obsessed with the future had forgotten a chunk of the population.
Recently I bought a Tesla Model 3 Premium and while some things are still less than accessible, I’m pleasantly surprised. So much of what Tesla builds “for everyone” happens to solve some of my real problems.
Before I get into the tech that’s working for me, it’s worth mentioning that as many of you know, buying any vehicle as a wheelchair user is its own (somewhat arduous) project. Firstly, it’s challenging to figure out how you’re getting in, whether that’s by transferring through the driver’s door or loading in through the back of a van. Secondly, some of us need to price out hand controls, which can run $2,000 to $3,000 on the low end and climb into the tens of thousands if you need a fuller conversion. And thirdly, if you’re like me you need to think about the unglamorous stuff, like how you keep the interior clean when you’re wheeling a chair in and out of it through rain and snow. And then there are the day-to-day parking and ongoing service and maintenance logistics. Dealer loaners don’t come with hand controls or accessibility features. It’s sit and wait for service or have someone help you drop off and pick up.
Simply put, my old Mazda 5 had clicked over 260,000 km and was ready for retirement. Gas prices had me leaning toward an EV or hybrid. And, Carney’s tariff deal with China had returned Tesla’s Shanghai-built inventory to the Canadian market. But price wasn’t the deciding factor. The technology was.
If you use a wheelchair, you already know the first real obstacle isn’t driving, it’s everything else. Getting the chair out of a trunk in a tight parking spot is but one challenge. Today, my Tesla’s “Smart Summon” feature has changed all that. I sit in my wheelchair while the car backs up and pulls up in front of me. I don’t need to squeeze between two parked cars or load up in a cramped space. It sounds like a party trick until you’ve experienced a packed grocery store parking lot in the snow.
The car uses Grok (Tesla’s built-in AI assistant). I simply talk and “ask it” to adjust the mirrors, change the temperature or crack a window… all while using my manual hand controls. Keyless entry through my phone means I’m not digging through a bag, or my pockets, for my fob mid-transfer. Seat and mirror memory profiles reset the moment I get in—no readjusting. Plus, my Tesla has FSD (full self-driving). It’s a supervised driver assist system, not fully autonomous. I’m still the driver in every legal and practical sense but the car takes over a huge amount of the fine motor load of driving: the constant small corrections, the lane centering and the speed adjustments.
Driving with hand controls for a long stretch is physically taxing, and with spasms or discomfort, a routine highway merge can turn genuinely stressful. Letting the car handle the moment-to-moment work while I supervise means arriving after a long drive actually feeling fine, instead of wrung out.
Tesla still doesn’t have a proper mobility program for disabled drivers, and accessible charging remains inconsistent and often awkward. Right now, I conveniently plug in at home each night. But I wonder about condo dwelling, which maybe in my future. The lack of underground parking accessibility and charger availability is concerning.
There’s lots Tesla still needs to fix. But they’ve solved more of my daily issues than I expected-and most weren’t because I use a wheelchair. For once, it just happened to work. About time!
Joel Dembe is a Paralympian, public speaker and Senior Manager, Distribution Strategy and Communications at RBC Direct Investing. He serves as Vice-Chair of Praxis Spinal Cord Institute and Chair of the Patron’s Council for the Canadian Abilities Foundation.
Image: Shutterstock
