When the accessibility tools I rely on change, I adapt and advocate

A columnist shares how she responded to Apple’s iOS 26 update

Written by Kathryn Blalock |

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Technology plays a huge role in my independence as someone who is mostly blind. My iPhone is one of the accessibility tools I rely on every day.

The examples of how I use my phone as an accessibility tool are endless. I use it to tell the time, keep track of appointments and activities on my calendar, take notes because I can’t see handwriting, and set timers while cooking. I also use my camera and zoom throughout the day to help me see everyday things, whether I’m checking what drink I grabbed or putting together an outfit. If I’m home alone and can’t see something well enough, I might FaceTime a family member and ask them to look at it for me, even something as simple as making sure meat is cooked all the way through. And, of course, I use my phone every day to communicate with other people.

That’s why the accessibility changes in Apple’s iOS 26 update late last year have been so frustrating.

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Several apps were reorganized, including Photos, which changed significantly. Buttons became smaller and familiar features moved to different places. As frustrating as these challenges are, I can adapt. I can zoom in to locate a small button or relearn an app and memorize where things are again.

But the change Apple has made to the keyboard is different.

Because of my vision, I need extremely high contrast. For years, I’ve relied on Smart Invert and a true black background with bright white lettering to see my phone. With iOS 26, my keyboard no longer displays that true black background. Instead, it often appears gray, which doesn’t give me enough contrast to adequately see the keyboard.

I was so frustrated I wanted to scream.

This wasn’t simply a matter of Apple changing where a button was located. A color and contrast combination I’d relied on for years was no longer available. Because the keyboard no longer inverts the way it used to, I have had to change how I use Smart Invert. I now have to toggle Smart Invert on and off depending on what I’m trying to do.

I don’t give up, nor should you

At first, I did what I usually do when I encounter an accessibility problem: I tried to solve it. I went through settings and worked with Apple Accessibility Support multiple times, but eventually, I was told that the true black option was simply no longer available.

However, I don’t give up that easily, and being told there is nothing more that can be done sometimes makes me even more determined. So I wrote Apple.

I explained that true black with white lettering was not an aesthetic preference for me. It was essential accessibility. I asked for my concerns to be escalated and described how removing that contrast affected my ability to independently use my phone.

Apple responded by asking for more details about the accessibility settings that had worked for me before the update. Eventually, Apple told me that my detailed feedback and workflow had been shared with its Accessibility and Human Interface Design teams for review and consideration. I’m glad I was at least heard, and I hope something will be done.

Apple has long emphasized accessibility, which is one reason this update was so disappointing to me. Accessibility should be considered before major changes are released, not after disabled users discover that something they rely on no longer works.

Companies like Apple need to consider the implications before making major accessibility changes. I believe including blind and visually impaired people in testing could help companies better understand how those changes affect us in real life.

This experience has also reminded me of the difference between adapting and advocating.

If a button gets smaller, I can zoom in. If an app gets reorganized, I can relearn it. But when something essential to my ability to see and navigate my phone is completely removed, I am going to speak up.

Yes, I am advocating for something I personally need, but I am also advocating for the larger blind and visually impaired community. So many of us depend on high contrast and other accessibility features. If nobody says anything, nothing changes.

Maybe one person speaking up encourages another to do the same. Maybe more voices eventually lead to change.

My advice to anyone facing a similar accessibility barrier is simple: Keep trying. Stay determined. Advocate for yourself and what you need. Accessibility matters, and those of us who rely on it deserve a voice in the decisions that affect us.


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