Abstract

Karen Myers urges us to move beyond the limitation model of disability education and design curricula, programs, and services to be accessible to all people from the outset, with no accommodations needed.
And then she wakes up.
This scenario does not have to be a dream. In this article, I offer suggestions for effectively addressing disability in and outside the classroom. I am buoyed by the knowledge that today's colleges and universities have proven that they can “do” diversity. Most have international weeks, multicultural weeks, women's weeks, and, yes, even disability awareness weeks. The disability services office, a student organization for people with disabilities, or the student government are most often responsible for coordinating disability awareness events, for offering informational materials, and for hosting other educational activities that typically include food in order to attract a crowd. Speakers, entertainers, and students with disabilities perform, and fundraising takes place. Presidents, vice presidents, and typically a handful of faculty and staff participate in these events in order to express their appreciation for the effort.
These types of events, unfortunately, are where disability education often begins and ends. After the events, life generally goes on as it has in the past, and people with disabilities continue to be excluded from daily activities, intentionally or not. Exclusion continues, despite the fact that according to the 2000 U.S. Census, one in five Americans identified themselves as having a disability. Disability is often missing from diversity lists that include race, gender, ethnicity, religion, age, and sexual orientation. Nonetheless, faculty members who are trained in infusing disability issues into their curricula and applying teaching strategies specifically intended to include all students in learning activities are fostering inclusive classroom environments for students with and without disabilities. Unfortunately, these practices are not the norm. Even after thirty years of practice, disability issues continue to be an afterthought in higher education. It is time to move on from disability education as an add-on.
Not an Outdated Topic
Regardless of our perceived level of familiarity with the topic, I believe that everyone can benefit from the kind of disability education advocated in this article. Although I have worked in the field of disability for more than twenty years as a teacher, consultant, and trainer, I continue to learn from graduate students in my disability course, who have opened my mind to new ideas about disability through their research projects and interviews. When I shared an article about universal instructional design (an inclusionary approach to teaching that I will describe in detail later in this article) with a college professor with expertise in special education, she said that she had learned several new concepts to share with her students. A friend with a doctorate in disability studies read a first-person account about living with low vision and was amazed at the number of daily obstacles and issues that had never occurred to her. These are all higher education professionals who, one would assume, would know a great deal about the people with whom they work and about whom they teach—that is, people with disabilities. Yet these professionals openly admit that they are still learning about disability. If they are still learning, the likelihood is high that those who rarely come into contact with people with disabilities also have much to learn.
Exclusion Still Exists
Exclusion Example 1
A student group that you advise is having an open forum on social justice. The members advertise that they will meet by the rose garden in the middle of campus. The rose garden is at the bottom of a hill with stairs leading to a concrete platform at the top of the hill. The students decide to meet on the concrete platform. Jill has multiple sclerosis. Her legs are weak, and she cannot climb the stairs. Bryan has a spinal cord injury and uses a wheelchair. There is no wheelchair access to the platform. Tina is blind. She can climb mountains, but she cannot see where the students are meeting and therefore does not know to climb the stairs. These students are immediately excluded from the discussion on social justice. Ironic. How many more students have been excluded or will be in the future? If the student group had decided to meet on and around the benches in the rose garden, could all students have been included?
Exclusion Example 2
As an associate professor in sociology, you teach a course each year called “Sociology of Diversity.” As you prepare your syllabus for the new semester, you plan to include discussions of gender discrimination in the workforce, racial inequality in prisons, and hate crimes based on sexual orientation, as you have in the past. However, nowhere in your curriculum do you address the impact of disability issues on society. Not only has disability been excluded from your definition of diversity, but you have also missed a key opportunity to infuse disability education into your course and academic discipline. You have missed the opportunity to expand your students’ view of diversity to include disability, which affects approximately 10 percent of their fellow college students and 20 percent of all Americans.
Exclusion Example 3
You are facilitating a committee meeting, and you distribute a handout for everyone to read prior to discussion. Text of the handout is printed in 10-point Times New Roman font. One of your committee members is legally blind and cannot read the handout. You have now excluded him from the activity. If you say you are sorry, that you know the font is too small and that you forgot, he is still excluded. If you or someone else offers to read it aloud to him, it has become a public issue and attention is being drawn to him and to the situation. Solution? Why not make a habit of having a large-print version of every handout? Or better yet, why not adopt a policy that all handouts distributed at meetings will be in 14-point Arial font (or whatever font size he requests). That way, everyone receives the same handout, and no one needs to scramble to make sure that one committee member is accommodated. Everyone present can read the handout. You might even discover that some other members are grateful for the larger font, which eliminates the need for squinting. And no one is excluded.
Universal Design Ensures Inclusion
The kinds of educational opportunities advocated in this article and facilitated by universal design were introduced to higher education more than ten years ago and are increasingly being applied on college campuses under a variety of labels, including universal design of instruction (UDI), universal design for learning (UDL), and universal instructional design (UID), a term coined by Patricia Silver, Andrew Bourke, and Kregg C. Strehorn in 1998. Federal funds now provide support for many educational applications of UID that are based on the principles for good practice in undergraduate education introduced by Arthur Chickering and Zelda Gamson in 1987. The principles, as adapted for UID, include (1) creating welcoming classrooms; (2) determining the essential components of a course; (3) communicating class expectations; (4) providing constructive feedback; (5) exploring the use of natural supports for learning, including technology, to enhance opportunities for all learners; (6) designing teaching methods that consider diverse learning styles, abilities, ways of knowing, and previous experience and background knowledge; (7) creating multiple ways for students to demonstrate their knowledge; and (8) promoting interaction among and between faculty and students.
The University of Minnesota's Curriculum, Transformation and Disability project, led by Jeanne Higbee, offers resources for educators interested in applications of UID in the classroom, while the University of Minnesota's Pedagogy and Student Services for Institutional Transformation (PASS IT) project, led by Higbee and Emily Goff, provides information focused on UID applications for out-of-class programs and services. Included in the educational materials developed through PASS IT (see http://cehd.umn. edu/passit) are three UID checklists for faculty, staff, and students based on Chickering and Gamson's ideology and designed to determine whether and how UID principles are or will be used. (These checklists can also be accessed at http://cte.slu.edu/ui.)
While this new kind of disability education may simply sound like good practice, Goff and Higbee believe it has transformative qualities that apply to many forms of diversity: “Even for those of us who have always been very intentional and reflective in our work, UID has simultaneously broadened and focused our thinking. We think more broadly about the diversity of our students and how students’ social identities can shape their learning experiences, and meanwhile we are also more focused on how we can ensure that no students are excluded or marginalized.”
Shifting the Paradigm
Jones and other scholars suggest that the attitudes of people without disabilities have created the structures, relationships, and institutions that marginalize and exclude persons with disabilities and shape the meaning of disability. In her 2006 California Psychologist article, “Disability and Clinical Competency,” Jennifer Gibson asserts, “Persons with disabilities traditionally have experienced systematic institutional victimization from all aspects of society including, but not limited to, the medical profession, the educational system and the workforce” (p. 6). She suggests that educators must recognize and act on the knowledge that disability is not an individual's sole identity. Likewise, Jones believes that a shift to the social construction model celebrates “the uniqueness of individual difference while directing attention toward social change and transformation of oppressive structures.” The infusion of universal instructional design principles into higher education practice is a welcome by-product of this shift in thinking and signifies increased inclusion of all students in the learning experience.
The Students Have Spoken
In a 2006 national study published in Universal design in higher education: From principles to practice, I surveyed students in sixty-one graduate programs that included student personnel administration, higher education administration, educational leadership, educational studies, nursing, and allied health. Almost all of the 784 respondents reported that they saw a need for some type of disability education in their degree program. When asked about their knowledge and understanding of college students with disabilities, 53 percent of the respondents believed that students with disabilities do not fully participate in higher education and 62 percent reported that they do not know what steps to take to ensure that students with disabilities do fully participate.
The educators surveyed in our study believe that there is a need for disability education. To them, disability is not an outdated topic; rather, it is a vital piece missing from their academic program and professional development plan. They admit that they do not know how to ensure inclusion of students with disabilities on their campus. They wish to use appropriate language; they want to know how to communicate with people with disabilities; and they want to be aware of rights and responsibilities, including laws, policies, and procedures. They expressed a desire to treat students with disabilities as first-class citizens, and they want to do all they can to not exclude or marginalize them. They are seeking disability education that moves beyond a limitations mentality and toward humanizing disability both in and out of the classroom.
Respect, Comfort, and Awareness
Students with visual disabilities also want teachers to feel comfortable around them. They reported that many people talk loudly to people with visual disabilities or tiptoe around them, hoping they will not hear them walk by. They said that people seem embarrassed and do not know what to do. This lack of comfort bothers the students, and as a result, the students use humor to put others at ease. One student says, “I tend to laugh at myself and my faux pas, and try to make light of my blindness. I attempt to bring attention to myself as a human being rather than as a person with a disability. I want people to know that it's okay to be around me.”
All of the students emphasized the importance of disability awareness. They suggested that through classes, programs, activities, and educational media, teachers, administrators, and peers could increase their understanding of visual disabilities and, with this increased understanding, become more comfortable and confident in their interactions with students who are blind or have low vision.
These attitudes of respect, comfort, and awareness readily map to learning outcomes espoused by many colleges and universities. From humanitarianism and civic engagement to knowledge acquisition, cognitive complexity, and communication competence, learning outcomes such as those outlined in Learning Reconsidered in 2004 (edited by Richard Keeling) can be achieved by intentionally designing opportunities for students to demonstrate respect, comfort, and awareness in regard to students with disabilities. Such learning opportunities might include an introduction to the components of the Americans with Disabilities Act, connecting the principles of UID to student course work, or instruction in appropriate language and interaction techniques related to persons with disabilities.
Opportunities to achieve learning outcomes relevant to disability education are particularly rich in learning communities, as Cathy Engstrom and Vincent Tinto describe in the January/February 2008 issue of Change. Engstrom and Tinto suggest that learning communities, in which students in a cohort share two or more academic experiences, can set conditions for student success and can avoid the add-on approach that leads to marginalization. An effective learning community that fosters collaboration, growth, self-efficacy, mastery of learning, and connection to peers and to the institution is an ideal venue for disability education. Learning communities could take the form of a themed diversity or social justice learning community in which disability is a central topic or, better yet, in which disability is infused into the community's curriculum, programs, and core values.
Whether operating in the classroom, in a cocur-ricular program, or through a learning community, disability education as envisioned in this article creates a respectful, welcoming environment and relies on allies to support and advocate for the social justice of persons with disabilities. Educators can and should be such allies. Nancy Evans, Jennifer Assadi, and Todd Herriott (in their 2005 chapter in New Directions for Student Services entitled “Encouraging the Development of Disability Allies”) stress that from a social justice perspective, ally development includes disability awareness, disability education, the development of skills to counter oppression, and direct action to facilitate change. Evans and her coauthors suggest that through contact, information, and communication, disability allies can collaborate with others in a campus community in “taking action when oppression occurs and … work[ing] alongside individuals with disabilities to create a positive learning environment in which all students can succeed” (p. 77). A lack of knowledge about disability in general as well as a lack of experience in interacting with individuals with disabilities may result in some without disabilities experiencing fear and discomfort or even a sense of superiority, according to Deborah Marks in her 1999 book, Disability: Controversial Debates and Psychosocial Perspectives. Allies can help set a tone to change those attitudes.
