It started out with me just trying to find a cute word to put with a11y, the numeronym for accessibility. Because you have to buy a cute domain name for every side project idea, of course. And as much as I try to say “a-eleven-y” of course my brain always reads it as if the 1s are ls.
I have been spending the last year or so thinking about how to enable what I've been calling “laypeople” – meaning non-developers or non-internet-nerds – to build their own websites.
Web revival or web never left?
A lot of us miss the “old” web and the webrings and the surfing and the eccentric personal websites and the communities that formed across them. I'm pleased to have found out (while setting up a webring myself and welcoming people into it), that this old web didn't go away. A lot of corporate web and e-commerce and social media silos have sprung up around it of course, but the sprawling personal website village is still there. New people keep moving into it as old ones leave. It's alive and well (see MelonLand's Surf Club and so many sites on Neocities), and there’s a surprising number of active webrings!
Just because this personal web is now proportionally much smaller than the huge platforms that exist and help the laypeople to blog and network with each other, it doesn't mean it's any less vital or central to our living web. I'd even consider it the beating heart.
Not-so-a11y
What it isn't, really, is very accessible.
Saying that makes me want to immediately add reasons and excuses for it, but first, just let it sit there. So be it. The personal web – unless it's a website belonging to a developer within accessibility circles – isn't all that accessible.
I have many thoughts, and maybe you do, too. If you have a personal website, please don't feel attacked, even if you see a picture of yourself here. This is your home on the web and it's for you to tinker with, to explore, to experiment.
Does your real home have a wheelchair ramp? A stair lift? A bathroom that can fit a wheelchair? Braille labels on things? Special taps for arthritic hands?
Mine sure doesn't. I mean, not yet. My father just got a stair lift and I remember my Nanna getting taps and kitchen tools that were easier on her hands.
Inclusivity
My implied question here is: does a personal website need to be accessible? Probably not. Many are resolutely not even responsive to mobile screens – and I actually salute those that add a declaration that proudly say so.
Here's where the idea for whimsica11y comes back – many people want their personal sites to be accessible. A lot of personal websites I've seen belong to people who are part of one or several of queer, trans, gender-fluid, neuro-diverse, leftist, anarchist, sex-positive, disabled, and other communities. They are not really in the game of being exclusive; rather, they are more keen to be as inclusive as possible.
I started building the Whimsica11y website for this audience, but I stalled out. Partly, I ran out of time and energy, and some other new shiny idea got in the way – and partly, I started to worry I was about to give out advice that would be pushed back on, that I'd get told was wrong, that I would exclude people by accident. I think this is a common fear about accessibility which scares people away.
Looking up advice
A few people will have gone looking for accessibility advice. Some of them find good resources, like this accessibility guide by Solaria or a11yphant. Others come across the Web Content Accessibility Guidelines (WCAG). Maybe some don't find the friendlier Introduction to Web Accessibility by the Web Accessibility Initiative (WAI) helpful and find reading the guidelines to be like swimming in pea soup. That document is remarkably cognitively inaccessible, given that it's promoting accessibility.
But it's not written for us as personal website builders. It's written for governments, commerce, service providers, officials, and auditors.
Sometimes you come across some nicely designed, bite-sized information that's easier to take in, and yes, good. But if you follow it all to the letter it's… a bit dull, actually. Some people worry that being accessible gets in the way of artistry – and, in some ways, they might be right.
A lot of the punchy advice that one sees in places like LinkedIn aren't necessarily following just the guidelines, but rather describing a sort-of best practice for the kinds of sites that (legally, in some places) have to be able to be used by everyone and then as efficiently as possible.
This is especially true in Europe because of the European accessibility act (EAA). There's much stricter legislation coming in about the accessibility of businesses providing goods and services to consumers.
More people are likely going to be seeking the International Association of Accessibility Professionals’ CPACC and WAS certifications for accessibility. In order to renew this certificate, IAAP requires active participation in the a11y sphere, which can include speaking, teaching, and writing series’ of blog posts with a minimum 5 posts per series.
This will hopefully increase the amount of advice out there, but this will probably also not be targeted to hobbyist website makers. Just be warned there may soon be a lot more advice around to sift through.
For now, though, here's some best practices for accessibility in the personal web.
Reframe alt text
Let's talk about alt text on images. A graphic or photo in a news article or technical illustration needs to have a brief description in its alt text that summarizes its value to the reader, and on we go. Cool.
But what about that picture on your website that's actually a picture of some art you did? Or a treasured photo of a pet or relative? Should you limit the description to under 200 characters? Should you be trying to just keep it brief?
In my opinion: No way! If the image means a lot to you and makes you feel lots of things, go to town and describe those things so that someone with a screen reader can understand and feel them too.
Good vibes only
Your website might have a vibe that comes from the general color scheme and decorative images around the place. Technically, purely “decorative” images should have an empty alt="" so that they're totally ignored by a reader.
But how else will visitors get that vibe? Is your content clearly written to go along with that sort of feeling? Or could you stash some information in those alt texts or in a visually hidden paragraph? Can you find another way to impart your vibe to the reader who can't see? How many inventive ways can you find to express yourself that aren't purely imagery? How about more use of sound?
I do actually find that personal websites are more likely to have multimedia going on; an embedded music player or midi tinkling away. I used to find this horribly annoying, but it feels so rare now. I like to let MelonLand’s audio just keep looping. It's pretty and calming, just like the visual design.
Where to start
We can try to get around our websites without a mouse by using the arrow keys or the Tab key. Are all your links and buttons accessible with Tab and actionable with Enter or Space? Can you see where your focus is on the page, on which link or button you have landed?
We can browse our site without any images, and see if it's still interesting or if it makes sense without descriptions.
We might get brave and use a built-in screen reader (VoiceOver for MacOS, Narrator for Windows, and Orca is available for Linux), or install NVDA on Windows for free, and listen to our websites. Can we get the screen reader to find all the text available and read it out? Is it speaking sense?
We can provide subtitles or transcripts for audio within embedded videos or podcasts for those who can't hear it.
Some people record occasional blog posts as podcasts, the best of both worlds!
If not WCAG, then what?
If the guidelines aren't written for the personal web, what rules shall we follow?
Well, even if a website follows all of WCAG, it can still manage to make itself inaccessible in myriad creative ways. I suspect you can also have a pretty accessible site even if there are some guidelines that you don't meet or aren't aware of. What I mean is: don't read the WCAG document unless you want to work as a web developer.
What you can do is read the WAI's Accessibility: It's about people section or watch its videos.
We can try to put ourselves in the place of the people we want our sites to reach. Find videos that show people using assistive technology. Follow people with disabilities and see what annoys them online. Ask your disabled friends what they'd love to come across on the web.
Don't panic!
There is so much we can do. But like the homes that haven't got any disability affordances, you're not going to get into trouble for not doing these things on your homepage. These are just ideas, for now.
Take one idea, or one kind of disability, and see what you can do to enable or maybe even amuse someone who is using the relevant kind of assistive tech.
Bit by bit. Little fix by little fix.
Before long, we'll be including silly little Easter eggs to liven up the experience of our disabled friends online.
We all deserve a little more whimsy.
Sara has been extremely online since 1998, making her own personal websites since 1999. She fell off the wagon some time around 2010 until getting back on it in 2021 to switch her career from electronic engineering to front-end web development. She loves the web platform and wants it to be accessible to everyone. You can find her at sarajoy.dev.
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