Lydia Laythe |
Me and My Dad
When parents visit campus, it’s natural to want to give them a tour. When my dad visited campus, I did the same. The only difference was my dad was in a wheelchair. I didn’t realize how much of a difference this would make.
I found myself taking different routes to and from various buildings, able to walk only on certain sidewalks and able to enter only through certain doors. Cracks in pavement, steep inclines and poorly functioning handicap doors began to stand out. While wheeling my dad across campus, trying to give him a tour of UP, I found myself walking farther, struggling to hang onto the handles while walking downhill, struggling to push him forward while walking uphill, and nearly launching my dad out of his wheelchair several times when his wheels got caught on bumpy doorways or cracked concrete.
That’s when it hit me: for anyone in a wheelchair, this is how they’d have to operate every day.
According to a report by the U.S. Census Bureau in 2010, about 3.6 million people, 15 years or older, use a wheelchair to aid their mobility, and about 1.6 million of those people are under the age of 65. According to the University of California San Francisco Disability Statistics Center, about 0.39% of people age 18-64 use a wheelchair.
According to Melanie Gangle, Office of Students with Disabilities coordinator, there are eight students with orthopedic impairments on campus, and only one of those eight uses a wheelchair on a regular basis. So it’s obvious that students with mobility challenges make up an infinitely small part of the student body. But does that mean that we don’t ensure them optimal accessibility and inclusion on campus?
I guess the issue isn’t a lack of accessibility because UP is, by all appearances, up to state and federal standards. There are wheelchair-accessible doors on almost every building, accessible stalls in the bathrooms and accessible picnic tables outside the Pilot House.
But maybe our definition of “accessibility” needs to be expanded. Accessibility shouldn’t just mean the physical capability of entering a room or building. It shouldn’t mean meeting the minimum requirements. Accessibility should mean physical ability to enter a room or building without feeling different, separated or excluded. It should mean going beyond the basic physical and legal requirements and creating a community where people feel accepted as they are.
I don’t expect everything to change overnight, and I realize that sometimes it’s hard to see the small things that might make someone feel excluded. But it’s our job – once we are made aware of an issue – to work to fix it however we can. And I think the University does a lot to help the students that ask. But maybe a student shouldn’t have to ask. Maybe a student shouldn’t have to request a front door entrance into a building instead of a winding side entrance. Maybe a student shouldn’t have to ask for more table options at the Commons so they don’t feel restricted. Maybe a student shouldn’t have to ask for a ramp that allows them to just hangout with their friends. Our university should not just be for the people who can walk across the quad, jump over potholes and pull open every door. This University should be for everyone. Maybe one day it will be.
Campus Accessibility on a Day-to-Day Basis
When one door closes, another door opens … sometimes.
Opening a door shouldn’t be difficult. I can open the door and think nothing of it. When freshman Luke Brown goes to open a door, his dog Mardene pushes the handicap button for him. And if Mardene can’t reach the button or the button isn’t working, he’s stuck. He has to wait for someone else to come to the door. Luke has Duchenne muscular dystrophy, which causes his body to gradually lose muscle over time. This muscle loss is what has put him in a wheelchair. But despite these challenges, Luke’s attitude is one of acceptance and adaptation.
“I’ve gotten used to it,” Luke said. “I’ve been dealing with it for so long. I’m not really frustrated by it.”
While Luke has adapted to being in a chair, having used a wheelchair since 2004, he still finds certain aspects difficult.
Luke identified not having the ability to write in class due to his disability, as one of the most difficult aspects related to being in a wheelchair. In addition to that, Luke said people make assumptions about him because he uses a wheelchair.
“I feel like people have perceptions of me that aren’t true,” Luke said. “Like, I’m an avid sports fan but very few people expect that because of the wheelchair.”
As for physical accessibility, Luke said the handicap door buttons are sometimes difficult.
“Some places it’s really easy and some places it’s not,” Luke said. “I’m kind of used to (the buttons) being in really weird places. Most people are really helpful so it’s not that much of a problem.”
But even Luke identified a difference between being adequate and being good. Luke also looked at Oregon State University when considering colleges, and was impressed by no-touch sensors for handicap doors. These sensors would make entering a building a lot easier for Luke.
Etiquette for Interacting with Someone Using a wheelchair
Talk directly to the person with the disability. It can feel like people aren’t acknowledging your existence if they don’t speak directly to you, even if an interpreter is involved.
Always recognize the person first, and then their disability. Don’t let their disability be their identifier. (For example, they are a “student in a wheelchair” or a “student who uses a wheelchair,” not a “wheelchair student.”)
Don’t lean on or touch a person’s wheelchair without permission. The wheelchair is an extension of their body, and should be treated as such.
Ask if assistance is needed, rather than assuming it is. And then accept “no” as answer if they say they don’t need help.
Trying to avoid idioms like “see,” “walk” or “hear” around people with disabilities can become awkward and uncomfortable for everyone in the conversation. Just say what you mean.
When greeting/meeting someone in a wheelchair, it’s okay to shake their hand. If they’re unable to shake hands, a touch or nod is also appropriate.
If you’re talking to a person in a wheelchair for an extended period of time, consider sitting down. Being eye-level with the person you’re talking to is a lot more comfortable than them standing over you.
What is the University Doing?
The University has an Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) Committee chaired by Alan Timmins, vice president for Financial Affairs to address issues on campus. And Timmins agrees that there is a difference between following the rules and doing what’s best for the students.
“When we hear about (issues), we fix them,” Timmins said. “It’s not just because it’s the law, it’s the right thing to do.”
Members of the ADA Committee include students, faculty and staff who meet at least twice a year to assess and discuss issues of campus accessibility. One example of action this committee has made in response to student, staff and community feedback was the repaving of the curb cuts at the corner of Portsmouth and Willamette.
Well-known alumni Sam Bridgman brought up the curb cuts at a barbeque the ADA Committee had a few years ago. When Bridgman pointed this out, the committee immediately began communication with the city of Portland to address the issue. According to Timmins, the curbs were fixed within a few months.
But the reality remains, with so few students in wheelchairs, only so much feedback can be given to supply this committee with changes that need to be made.
“It takes a village, and it takes continued feedback and many perspectives and many voices to help our community become the most accessible and welcoming community that we can possibly be,” Office of Students with Disabilities coordinator Melanie Gangle said. “We can never have enough feedback.”
In addition to the ADA Committee, the University has an Office of Students with Disabilities (OSWD). OSWD addresses the issues a student with physical disabilities might encounter, provides numerous services for students with any disability, and coordinates other resources across campus. OSWD serves over 220 students with disabilities ranging from learning disabilities to mobility impairment. Facilities, Physical Plant, the Registrar’s Office and Residence Life work with OSWD to coordinate wheelchair/physical access on campus.
Fay Beeler, assistant director of Physical Plant, works closely with the OSWD and other offices to ensure physical accessibility across campus. Physical Plant is responsible for building ramps, making counters accessible, smoothing sidewalks, making curb cuts, altering dorm rooms and shower rooms, and many other areas. Specifically, when Physical Plant re-did the Pilot House plaza several years ago, they intentionally bought wheelchair accessible picnic tables for that area. Despite the improvements Physical Plant makes, Beeler says they still require feedback from other people.
“We’re constantly looking for areas to make the campus more accessible and easier for wheelchair bound students to get around,” Beeler said. “We try to be forward thinking, but sometimes we’re not in that position and we don’t always realize that it is difficult.”
Chris Haug, director of Residence Life, said the University is aware as a whole, but will always continue to improve.
“We, at the University of Portland, I think, show a great commitment to this topic,” Haug said. “It’s certainly something I don’t think we’re ever going to rest on. There’s always room to be better and be more accessible.”
In all these situations, OSWD serves as a facilitator or a connector between the students at UP and all the other resources on campus.
Problem Spots around Campus
1. Christie Hall
I couldn’t show my dad my boyfriend’s dorm room because there are no elevators in Christie Hall. I couldn’t even show him the lobby, because every entrance either has steps to reach the door or it opens onto a stairwell. Christie Hall is not wheelchair-accessible, and that could prevent students from accessing the Office of International Student Services in Christie’s basement or other hall events.
According to the U.S. Access Board, University buildings are obligated to have “program access,” but that does not require that every building be wheelchair accessible. It means that every service or program must be accessible somewhere.
According to the OSWD coordinator Melanie Gangle, the staff of the Office of International Student Services is willing to meet a student elsewhere, which qualifies as “program access.” I’m not convinced that requiring a student to ask staff to meet them elsewhere really qualifies as true accessibility and equality for students with disabilities.
2. The Pavement
When we hit a big crack in the pavement my dad nearly flew forward out of his chair and directly onto the sidewalk.
3. The Commons
Navigating through Bauccio Commons is stressful enough without having to find a table that can accommodate a wheelchair. The long tables at the center of the Commons with benches and the tall tables were off limits for obvious reasons. The smaller square tables and half-booths were too close together for easy maneuvering, and the base of those tables were too wide to allow my dad to pull his wheelchair all the way up to the table. Booths would allow him to pull right up to the table, but if he sits on the end, he blocks aisles for everyone else.
4. The Slopes
The hill near Mehling was dangerously steep and the curb cuts on that sidewalk forced me to go out of my way to a point without a clear crosswalk or stop sign directly beside it. During high traffic, I was nervous to cross with my dad.
5. The Curb Cuts
The curb cut across from Joe Etzel Field is so worn down and jagged that my dad nearly fell out of his chair. However, the sidewalk across the street has no curb cut. I had to walk back 10 feet and find a different curb cut or walk down the side of the road, hoping someone wouldn’t whip around the corner by Corrado.
6. Handicap Doors
The handicap doors across campus were often barely wide enough for my dad to fit through. The raised lips at the bottom of every main doorway created bumps that my dad’s chair got stuck on, and he risked getting hit by a closing door every time he got stuck because they only stay open for a short time. The buttons to activate the handicap doors were sometimes difficult to reach. Whether it was a coffee table blocking the button in Corrado Hall or the inconvenient location of buttons directly beside the doors themselves, their location inhibited natural entering and exiting of buildings.
