When Brad Bailey first met Hale Zukas in a UC Berkeley courtyard, he didn’t yet know he was looking at a cornerstone of American history. Hale had signaled that he needed water. Brad, a graduate student in journalism, watched as Hale began to spell out each letter using a voiceboard. What might have seemed like a slow moment to most became, for Brad, a quiet revolution.
That courtyard encounter would grow into HALE, an award-winning short documentary capturing the life and legacy of one of the most influential figures in the disability rights movement. Directed by Brad Bailey, produced by Isaac Smith and Brad Bailey, under the mentorship of Lecturer Bob Calo, the film would go on to win the 2017 Student Academy Award for Best Documentary, screen at Cannes, and be shortlisted for a BAFTA. But for Brad and his team, those accolades were never the end goal.
Their mission was clear: center Hale’s voice, show the world what presence-as-resistance looks like, and reframe how we talk about access, design, and justice.
Presence as a Political Act
Born in 1943 with cerebral palsy, Hale Zukas was never meant to be at the table and yet, he insisted on showing up anyway. As a founding member of the Center for Independent Living (CIL), Hale helped draft foundational accessibility standards that shape how public spaces are designed today. Elevator button placement. Sidewalk curb cuts. Transit access. These seemingly small features are the legacy of decades of community activism led by Hale and his peers.
“He was a living testament to the slow, methodical power of presence,” said Isaac Smith, producer of HALE. “He wasn’t loud, but he was relentless.”
And in showing up, over and over again, Hale helped move mountains.
Crafting the Film, Letter by Letter
Director Brad Bailey approached the documentary with reverence and restraint. “We decided to start the film uncut. No edits. Just Hale, speaking slowly through his voiceboard. His first words: ‘I have a lot to say.’ That line shaped the entire film.”
The team resisted the pull of overproduction, opting instead for verité storytelling. The film follows Hale through his day-to-day life, interspersed with footage and interviews that offer glimpses into his lifelong advocacy.
“It was a learning experience in listening,” Brad reflected. “Not just to Hale’s words, but to his pace, his rhythm, his silence. You can’t rush presence.”
Lecturer Bob Calo, who advised the project, described the process as a masterclass in ethical filmmaking. “Brad didn’t impose a voice. He listened. The film didn’t just document history, it participated in it.”
The Vantage Point of a Movement
One of the film’s most striking contributions is how it forces viewers to see the built environment differently. What does a sidewalk look like when you move through it in a motorized wheelchair? What do doorways, elevators, or crosswalk buttons look like from that height, at that angle?
Hale wasn’t just advocating for access. He was redefining the terms of design.
“He taught us that access isn’t just about building ramps,” said Isaac. “It’s about reimagining the world from a different vantage point. His.”
And that vantage point extended to the most granular levels. Hale once helped influence the height of elevator control panels, a design change that would go on to benefit millions.
Legacy Without Pedestals
What makes HALE so distinctive is that it resists the urge to mythologize. There are no slow-motion hero shots. No sweeping orchestral moments. Just Hale, living and leading.
“He was both the historian and the history,” Brad said. “His home was filled with decades of documents, policies, correspondences. You walked in and felt like you were inside the movement.”
Bob Calo agreed. “What’s remarkable is how much of the movement lives in the daily lives of people like Hale. It’s not always performative. It’s in the quiet persistence. The unglamorous meetings. The ordinary refusals.”
The Ecosystem of Change
The documentary is also a product of a deeply collaborative process. Calo describes it as a triangle of respect and energy between student, producer, and mentor. Isaac Smith recalls the way their differences strengthened the project: “Brad had journalistic instincts. I had movement history. Bob brought rigor and perspective. Together, we created something that was bigger than all of us.”
This ecosystem mirrors the disability rights movement itself, multi-generational, multidisciplinary, and deeply interdependent.
Lessons for Now
Though Hale passed away in 2022, his legacy is everywhere: in crosswalks that beep, buses with lifts, sidewalks that slope. But his story remains largely invisible in mainstream narratives.
That’s why HALE matters. It’s not just a film. It’s a reframing tool.
“We hope people come away from it seeing differently,” said Isaac. “Not feeling guilty, but feeling capable. Feeling hopeful. That they can make change, too.”
“We hope people come away from it seeing differently,” said Isaac. “Not feeling guilty, but feeling capable. Feeling hopeful. That they can make change, too.”
The Berkeley Blueprint
This is a Berkeley story at its core. From the Rolling Quads to the rise of CIL, UC Berkeley has long been a crucible for disability rights. Hale was there. Not just at the fringes, but at the helm.
“The city shaped him, and he shaped it right back,” Brad said. “It’s impossible to walk through Berkeley without stepping into his legacy.”
Calo notes that stories like Hale’s must be part of how institutions understand themselves. “This is Berkeley’s blueprint for justice. We teach it best when we tell it whole.”
The Call and the Echo
As Disability Pride Month prompts institutions to reckon with inclusion, HALE reminds us that justice work often begins with a single act: listening.
Listening to someone who communicates differently. Walking at their pace. Watching the world through their eyes.
Or in this case, through a camera lens held with care, aimed with purpose, and focused on someone who quietly changed the world.
Brad Bailey, Isaac Smith, and Bob Calo didn’t just document a man. They made space for his echoes.
Because Hale Zukas did have a lot to say. And now, we’re finally listening.
