Last semester, I ended up in two casts, one on each foot. While I was still able to walk, every step was incredibly awkward and painful, especially over hills and long distances.
Because I did not have a permanent disability, I had few accommodations available for me.
All but one of my professors understood my situation and let me join their classes via Zoom. The one professor who wouldn’t let me join virtually made going to classes miserable.
It was grueling trekking up and down the inclines on campus with a heavy fiberglass cast and a boot on each foot. I couldn’t drive, and having to get rides to campus from friends made me feel helpless. I knew my friends didn’t mind, but still, I always felt like an inconvenience.
The reason I bring all of this up is not to simply complain. I bring it up because the stress of navigating campus with two broken feet could have been avoided if that one professor had let me join the class virtually.
The COVID-19 pandemic was, and still is, an incredibly unfortunate situation, but we can make the most of a bad situation by gleaning knowledge from the lessons we’ve learned. The pandemic taught society about public health, safety, essential workers and more, but it also taught us how accessibility can be increased by virtual learning, working and services.
Telehealth is a great example. Although virtual medical appointments were already on the rise in 2019, they soared once the pandemic hit. According to the American Association of Retired Persons, telehealth is especially beneficial for the elderly and those with chronic conditions.
The pandemic also showed the world the benefits of virtual learning. Gone are the days of being unable to receive an education simply because you cannot make it to class in person.
In the spring of 2021, a year after the start of the pandemic, infection and death rates from COVID-19 were still high. The university clearly felt COVID was enough of a threat to make classes go online if the professor did not feel comfortable teaching in person. Yet, they didn’t extend this choice to students.
I find it insane that the university left students’ well-beings to the whims of professors.
What does this say about the university’s dedication to its students? Why did we not adopt virtual learning for students who were unable to attend in person?
My situation grew so untenable that I considered dropping the class and pushing my graduation date back. I was ready to rethink my post-graduation plans simply because one professor had no empathy for a student in a compromised physical condition.
Our campus is not an easy space to navigate in two casts, and I should not have had to learn that the hard way.
If nothing else, quarantine showed us how easy it would have been for my professor to let me stream the class virtually. My professor’s resistance to making his class accessible reflects badly not only on his poor character, but on our university’s priorities for allowing him to make that choice and forcing me to walk to class.
I hope that in the future, professors and other people in positions of power will learn to be more accommodating to others. Although my injury was temporary, millions of others live their entire lives with conditions that make the physical world an unforgiving landscape to navigate.
The world is never going back to pre-COVID, and the technology we have widely adopted to navigate quarantine should be utilized to make life easier.
Who knows, you could find yourself in two leg casts tomorrow.
Kathryn Craddock is a 21-year-old mass communication junior from Patterson.
