Make accessibility happen

Duke’s campus is known for many things—its beautiful neo-Gothic architecture, the Chapel and Cameron Indoor Stadium are among some of its best-known trademarks. What many don’t realize, however, is how inaccessible our campus is for the physically disabled.

The campus’ inaccessibility—partially an unfortunate byproduct of its age, size and aesthetic—is a very expensive problem to solve. Imagine, for example, the simultaneous renovation of every residential quadrangle and many academic buildings on West Campus. Although this does not seem like a feasible short-term proposition given its cost, incremental change is already taking place. For example, the construction of the new Events Pavilion and a complete overhaul of the West Union Building—two major ongoing campus renovations—represent a significant step in the right direction. Once construction is complete, both buildings will be fully handicap accessible.

At the same time, it is important to note that the Americans with Disabilities Act legally mandates that these new public buildings be accessible. The University should be proactive in seeking future renovations as opportunities to increase campus accessibility, even if the projects’ scales do not mandate such change.

We also commend Housing, Dining and Residence Life for its efforts to make residential life at Duke more accessible. Currently, HDRL has funds set aside to retrofit rooms and modify house or living group sections, and is willing to move sections to new locations if these changes cannot be accommodated.

Despite these positive gestures, there remain glaring holes in campus accessibility. Not only do short-term solutions exist, but the University has a moral obligation to implement them, establishing a minimum threshold of access. Even if complete accessibility of all buildings and venues is not realistic in the short term, students’ access to the spaces on campus is so fundamental to their daily lives at Duke that some degree of accommodation, above what is currently provided, is necessary.

Consider some examples—the Mary Lou Williams Center for Black Culture, the Women’s Center and Counseling and Psychological Services are not readily accessible. The Center for LGBT Life is not either, but will be once current renovations are completed. Certain academic buildings, such as the Languages Building, are also not readily accessible. Even for the buildings that are, there is little or no signage to indicate the appropriate entrances—a problem with a cheap and easy solution that administrators have avoided for the sake of aesthetics. Finally, Duke’s on-demand van service does not operate on weekends until 5 p.m., imposing serious limits on disabled students’ extracurricular and social engagement.

These considerations also lead to a somewhat distinct, but equally important, question: Where does (dis)ability belong within the space of identity discourse at Duke? Student groups centered around ethnicity, culture and sexuality play a key role in shaping life, equity and discussion at the University. But the notion of ability or disability, which encompasses sensory, physical and mental impairments, is surprisingly absent from this dialogue. This is especially shocking given that there are currently several hundred students self-registered with the Student Disability Access Office. Increased discourse on disability, along with increased physical accommodations, should be an essential goal for the University.