SALEM, Ore. — Near the conclusion of a sweeping, $598 million multi-year renovation of the Oregon State Capitol, a modest yet profoundly significant addition has been unveiled. Tucked into an accessible restroom on the building’s main floor, a newly installed universal changing table is now providing a long-awaited measure of dignity for Oregonians living with severe disabilities who visit the seat of state government to engage with their elected representatives.
The motorized, wall-mounted, commercial-grade changing table represents the first dedicated space within the historic building designed specifically for family members and caregivers to assist older children and adults with personal hygiene. For years, the lack of such facilities forced families to navigate the Capitol with limited options, often resorting to seeking out the private offices of sympathetic lawmakers to serve as impromptu changing rooms.
The installation of the $10,500 fixture—a mere fraction of the massive, years-long renovation budget—serves as a tangible correction to a long-standing oversight in the public accessibility landscape. For many families, this is more than just a piece of hardware; it is a signal that their presence in the halls of power is both expected and respected.
The push for the facility was spearheaded by Calli Ross, a Sherwood mother and co-founder of the political action committee Advocates for Disability Supports. Ross, whose 11-year-old son is non-mobile, ventilator-dependent, and a wheelchair user, has become a familiar face at the Capitol. Her advocacy work often involves lobbying lawmakers for increased funding for Medicaid programs that support families caring for children with complex medical needs. For years, every trip to the Capitol was shadowed by the same logistical anxiety: where to safely and privately change her son’s clothing.
"We just wanted the Capitol to be accessible for all people to come and advocate with dignity," Ross said. For families like hers, the ability to lobby for policy change should not be contingent upon the availability of a private office or the kindness of a legislator.
The necessity of the changing table reached a breaking point in early 2025. During a legislative session, Kelsey Smith, a Portland resident, arrived at the Capitol with her then-12-year-old son to participate in advocacy efforts. Her son, whom she describes as "very happy and sunny," is nonverbal and medically fragile, requiring constant, total care.
When it came time to change him, Smith found herself in a situation familiar to many caregivers of older children with disabilities: there was simply nowhere to go. With the hallways crowded and no accessible facility available, Smith was forced to attempt a change in a public corridor, while other parents and caregivers formed a human shield around her son to provide a semblance of privacy.
The situation turned distressing when a passerby, emerging from a nearby stairwell, observed the scene and expressed visible disgust. The individual confronted the group, chastising them and demanding they find another place to care for the boy. When another caregiver challenged the man by asking where else such care could possibly be provided in a building that had failed to plan for their needs, the man offered no solution.
"I was embarrassed for my child and it was just awful," Smith recalled. "He suffers a lot of indignities in every aspect of his life on a daily basis, but the worst is when we go out in public and something like this happens."
For Smith, the incident served as a painful reminder that the design of public spaces often suffers from a "baby-centric" bias. Designers frequently include changing stations for infants, yet completely overlook the reality that children with disabilities grow into larger children and adults who still require safe, sanitary, and private spaces for care. "There’s an entire population of larger children and adults that also need to have a space for those situations," Smith said.
The persistence of parents like Ross and Smith eventually caught the attention of the Capitol’s renovation project team. Jodie Jones, the project director for the massive overhaul, noted that the timing of the request proved fortuitous. The renovation project, which began in 2016 and was designed to improve accessibility, perform seismic retrofits, and reimagine the interior functionality of the building, was in its final design phase for restrooms in early 2025.
"Timing was perfect when the need was brought to our attention," Jones wrote in an email. By integrating the universal changing table into the final phase of the bathroom construction, the team was able to address a critical gap in the building’s infrastructure.
While the $10,500 cost is negligible when viewed against the backdrop of the $598 million renovation, Ross noted that the delay in identifying the need remains a poignant lesson. She had been raising the issue with lawmakers for years, often using her own experiences to illustrate why a public building meant to serve all citizens should be equipped for all citizens. It wasn’t until the confrontation in the hallway that the issue gained the urgency required to spark immediate action.
The addition at the Oregon State Capitol reflects a growing, albeit slow, movement to include universal changing stations in public infrastructure. Across the state, the availability of such facilities remains sporadic. In the Portland area, the Oregon Zoo has taken steps to accommodate these needs with five universal changing tables. Meanwhile, the Portland International Airport currently offers a single mobile adult changing table that can be deployed upon request, though the Port of Portland has announced plans to install four permanent universal changing stations—two in pre-security areas and two in post-security areas—with construction expected to commence this fall.
For the advocates who fought for the Capitol’s new table, the success is a bittersweet milestone. While they are relieved that the facility now exists, they emphasize that accessibility should be a foundational consideration, not an afterthought that requires a public struggle to achieve.
As the state Capitol returns to its full, updated operation, the presence of the changing table stands as a testament to the power of persistent advocacy. For families who rely on specialized care, the table provides more than just a surface; it provides the ability to participate in the democratic process without fear of humiliation.
By ensuring that the most vulnerable citizens and their caregivers are afforded basic dignity, the project team and the legislature have moved the building closer to its intended purpose: a public space truly open to all. For mothers like Ross and Smith, who have spent years navigating a world that often failed to account for their children’s needs, the new facility is a vital step toward a more inclusive future, ensuring that the next generation of advocates can focus on their message rather than the indignities of the environment.
