I’ve been thinking about the concept of accommodations for people with disabilities. When I started taking classes again before applying to grad school, I made contact with the school’s disability services office but didn’t ask for any specific accommodations to be made. I wasn’t sure what kind of accommodations might be helpful, in part because I didn’t really know what to expect from my classes. But I wanted to be on their radar in case something came up, and I also wanted to be in the loop about anything autism-related that was going on at the school.
This worked out really well for me, and I plan to do the same thing at my new school. I still don’t anticipate needing any specific accommodations, but again, I’m not entirely sure what to expect from my classes (including the one I’ll be a TA for). But thinking about this reminded me of a journal entry I wrote late last year regarding some things that came up in the two classes I was taking; the following is based on that journal entry.
There’s a difference between asking for accommodations and asking to be able to stop accommodating the rest of the world for once. For example, I was in a class where we were given the option of doing an exercise as a whole, in one large group, or breaking into small groups for it. I expressed a preference for staying in the larger group. One other student agreed with me, but the rest preferred the small-group option. I didn’t press the issue, but I also didn’t realize that we were going to be doing a second small-group exercise later; if I had known that, I might have proposed doing one of each.
The thing is, I end up really drained and stressed out after doing small-group exercises where there are multiple conversations going on in the room at once; it takes a lot of effort to focus on the voices of those in my group against the background noise of other voices talking at the same time. That effort has a real effect on me. I could have expressed that explicitly, and suggested that it was an accommodation I would like to have…but I felt that would be imposing on other people. After all, I could handle it, it would just take a toll. Also, it takes a stressful toll on me to make that request in the first place, so it’s something of a tradeoff.
What I would really like, instead, is for things to just be different, so I don’t have to ask for accommodations. I feel like I accommodate the majority in so many ways that they’re not even aware of—that’s exactly what I was doing in the example above, after all. Is it so much to ask for an environment where I don’t have to do that?
Around the same time as this incident, I had an experience in another class that really had an impact on me in terms of expressing my needs and preferences. This was a statistics class, and the professor was asking students to come to the front of the room and write on the smart board when we were working on practice problems. She usually asked for volunteers, but when I hadn’t volunteered after several problems, she nudged me to do one. I didn’t mind the math, but the smart board was a little bit glitchy, and the text looked like it was jumping slightly. From the back of the room it wasn’t too bad, but I knew if I was up close to it, it would give me a headache pretty quickly.
Because of that, I kind of made a face as I started to stand up, and she said I didn’t have to do it if I didn’t want to. I explained that I would probably get a headache, and she said then I shouldn’t do it. I added something about having enough sensory issues just being in that room with those lights (it was an interior room with no windows, so it was all fluorescent lights and computer screens). She looked dismayed, and I quickly said it was ok, I just deal with it, and she said that since I was going to be in another class with her next semester, she would see if she could get a room that had natural light so we didn’t have to use the fluorescents. That didn’t end up working out, unfortunately, but I was really moved by that concern.
I forget, sometimes, how much sensory stuff like that I just grit my way through, to the point where I don’t even notice it anymore. I might eventually notice how drained I feel after class, but I’m just used to putting up with so much stuff that it doesn’t occur to me that there might be alternatives. I’m sure a lot of that stems from an entire childhood of being forced to put up with stuff (fluorescent lights, those high-pitched squeals from ‘80s electronics, the constant noise of other children) that other people didn’t even notice and didn’t believe could actually be bothering me. Then, of course, the gut-it-out nature of both MIT and the military shut down any desire to speak up and ask for changes.
What would things be like if I hadn’t had all of that extra crap to deal with? Or if others actually noticed and cared that it was hurting me?