The further away I get from education, the more I realise how much my experience was informed by #AcademicAbleism. Here's a thread on #WhyDisabledPeopleDropOut

My encounters with #AcademicAbleism began early. A few months into my degree I was sectioned. From a locked ward, my department continually demanded work from me, and strongly advised that I not return to my studies.

I came back to uni after three months. #AcademicAbleism, of course, had gone nowhere. My uni used a system of 'inclusive learning plans,' which were access documents tied to each disabled student. However the plans weren't enforceable, and could be either opted into or ignored.

The tutor who would teach me Shakespeare (more on them later) called me into a meeting about my 'inclusive learning plan.' It was an incredibly basic document, essentially saying 'Karl has X, Y, Z.' The meeting went like this

Tutor: I see you have cerebral palsy. I've known many people with cerebral palsy over the years. Many couldn't even feed themselves. You're so lucky you can talk and learn.

I said nothing.

I mentioned this interaction I had with the same lecturer yesterday, but there's a bit more to it.

Me: I want to write my essay about disability in Shakespeare, it's everywhere!

Tutor: No.

Me: Why?

Tutor: We don't do that here.

Because I am stubborn, I went ahead and wrote the essay. The mark came back as a fail. Other tutors agreed the essay had merit. My request to change tutor was ignored, citing lack of evidence. Needless to say, I refused to spend two hours in this person's company every week.

Shortly afterwards, I was forbidden by another tutor from writing on disability in modernism, despite the main players of the movement being utterly obsessed with medicine, illness and disability.

The time came to write my dissertation, and I chose to write on blindness in James Joyce. I was assigned a supervisor who was the only 'Joyce expert' in the department. Our first meeting went like this...

Me: I'm writing on how Joyce's work was effected by blindness.

Supervisor: I don't think that's wise.

Me: Why?

Supervisor: Blindness didn't effect Joyce at all.

Me: You're telling me that a book that has almost no visual images was uneffected by blindness?

S: Precisely

Besides the #AcademicAbleism embedded in the course, ableism emerged elsewhere in the uni's infrastructure. There was a department in charge of accessibility, and ensuring that students received their course materials in the formats they needed.

After hearing one too many stories of materials not being delivered, I knew something was wrong. I started doing my own research and contacting disabled graduates.

Over and over again, disabled students told me that they had gone through entire degrees without receiving any of their work in formats they could access. A blind student told me that in three years of study, he never received his work in Braille as he was promised.

My research found a track record of course materials not being delivered for at least five years. Disabled students had sent thousands of emails to the department requesting their materials. They were ignored.

The department also regularly plagiarised other universities access regulations. (Their regulations has been copied, word for word, from the University of Edinburgh.)

Later, I found myself on a board in charge of delivering the university's Disability History Month. I was the sole disabled person there.

As a part of Disability History Month, an esteemed disability theorist gave what was to be their last public lecture before their death. The people in charge of the event boasted to theorist that their campus was fully accessible.

The event was held in the only wheelchair-accessible building on campus.

Seminars were regularly held in accessible buildings with no lift. I missed dozens of lectures etc as I literally couldn't get to them. Once, this conversation happened with one of my lecturers.

Lecturer: Why weren't you present on Wednesday?

Me: I couldn't get in the building. I've requested that you change the venue several times.

Lecturer: You should have found a way!

I had finally had enough. I blew the whistle on all of the above, and sent a dossier of my evidence to the chancellor of the university. Then things got interesting.

The department in charge of access summoned me into a meeting. I was told, I quote, 'if you pursue this, there will no longer be a place for you at this university.'

I pursued it. The department tried to discredit my findings by citing the fact that I had been sectioned in my first year as evidence of 'mental instability and unreliability.'

I was happy to leave academia shortly afterwards. Now it seems all I gained from the whole experience was debt and a skyrocketing blood pressure.

It's a shame, as I greatly enjoy teaching and I'm quite an academic creature.

If I was to summarise university in a single anecdote, it would be this. I had requested a meeting about accessibility with my student union. The union held the meeting in a building I couldn't get into.

End thread.