Institutional Ableism at UO - My Experience

On October 14th, 2019, I was three weeks into my freshman year at the University of Oregon. I was living in Hamilton Hall, 8 hours away from my hometown in California. While walking back from the EMU to my dorm, I was struck by a car while using the crosswalk at the 13th and Agate intersection. My left femur absorbed the brunt of the impact and snapped - a comminuted displaced fracture that initially appeared to be a compound fracture. Luckily, the bone only tore through the muscles and did not puncture through the skin.

The femur (thighbone) is the longest and strongest bone in the human body and rated as one of the most painful bones to break. Evolving from quadrupedal to bipedal locomotion means that human femurs developed into an instrumental role in supporting the weight of the body when you stand and stabilizing you as you move; a break in the femur affects the function of the entire body. Even with advanced surgical treatment and physical therapy, it is near impossible to recover into the person you were before the injury. I was quickly rushed to PeaceHealth Riverbend and put into traction, had an emergency surgery performed in the early morning of October 15th by a highly skilled orthopedic surgeon and did not suffer from severe complications (like infections) resulting from the surgery. I am extraordinarily privileged in this regard, especially since I was a healthy active 18 year old before the accident. Nevertheless, the fallout from this injury was absolutely devastating.

The problems start with the accident site itself. The 13th and Agate intersection is infamous for being an absolute shitshow due to the high volume of students using it and how busy Agate St gets. Every single UO student I have spoken to about the accident has an anecdote about almost being hit by a car while using that crosswalk. The ER staff recognized it immediately and complained about the volume of injuries that occur there. Just a ways away down the road is another crosswalk between Hamilton and Unthank that has flashing lights and more pedestrian safety - how hard is it to approve the far busier four way stop?

Next comes UOPD. Right after the accident occurred and I regained consciousness, both the driver of the car and I were in shock. The driver, before being ushered away by someone, said “I didn’t see you!” I told anyone who would listen that I was sorry, I was so embarrassed, this all has to be my fault somehow. The driver’s statement of not seeing me was not taken down when UOPD responded to the scene. I was not interviewed until I was in the ER room on a very high dose of fentanyl and completely alone. The responding officer’s police report was less than a page and named me, the pedestrian, at fault because I repeatedly “expressed guilt.” Nevermind the fact that I was in the middle of the crosswalk when I was struck by the left side of the car. The officer that responded to my case went on vacation the day after, leaving me to have to get a lawyer and give another statement to her sergeant a month after the fact.

After seven days in the hospital, I was discharged and went to stay with my sister and her husband in Bend, OR. We were able to notify all of my professors within two days post-op but as we began to settle me in, it became clear that two weeks was nowhere near enough time to recover. I was wheelchair bound, taking oxycodone and muscle relaxers to try and dampen the excruciating pain, unable to bathe or use the toilet unassisted, and unable to dress myself or use any part of my left leg. My lower back atrophied. My left foot had little to no circulation, resulting in broken blood vessels over my toes. As the physical toll was wreaking havoc on my mental state, the academic consequences were just beginning.

My sister, an alumni from UO, had her own struggles with an undiagnosed learning disability while attending which gave her experience with navigating accommodations and academic support. When we called the AEC, we were told that they couldn’t help us because they didn’t deal with “temporary” disabilities. She was absolutely floored by this response and no appeal of ours could change that decision. I lost my scholarship and couldn’t appeal the decision. I was forced to withdraw from 2 out of the 4 courses I was enrolled in. I couldn’t switch from Hamilton to a more accessible residence hall. When I contacted different offices at the University for help, my best options were to essentially drop out and come back when I was healed, which was not feasible financially. Our phone calls and emails were going nowhere. I returned to campus after one month of healing and decided I would visit the offices of the multitudes of “resources” available to students in-person to attempt to get my academic career back on track.

I quickly realized that using a wheelchair would be too much of an ordeal with the wet pavement and lack of accessible entrances across campus. I forced myself up onto crutches with poor technique and hobbled down two flights of stairs every week to do laundry in Hamilton’s basement. The wet floors of the communal showers (and multiple other halls across campus) were incredibly dangerous to use crutches on, leaving me to crawl on the disgusting moldy floors to shower. Lawrence Hall’s “ramp” has a warning sign for how steep the grade is, Condon’s “ramp” has irregular paving and fills with puddles, the elevators for McKenzie, Lawrence, Condon, and Gerlinger were slow and tucked into far-away corners that added significantly more time and frequently made me late to classes. I applied for the access shuttle and was able to use it a few times, but my schedule was never incorporated into the system properly since it wasn’t filed months in advance. I had to use the same crosswalk I got hit at almost daily. If a lecture hall or classroom did have accessible seating, it was filled by other students which forced me to sit in the regular seats. At this time in my journey, I physically was unable to bend my knee to a 90 degree angle and physically unable to sit in the weird tilted seats for long periods of time because I’d lose circulation in my feet and start having muscle spasms in my lower back and thigh. My crutches would get in the way of the other students, it was impossible to use the bathroom, I couldn’t carry my phone or a coffee or food or get the door for myself. On top of that, I had nightmares every night, I was barely eating because Hamilton dining was inaccessible and noisy, I was terrified of existing on campus and felt like I was a complete nuisance for others to deal with.

My mental state got so bad that I hobbled across the 13th and Agate crosswalk, yet again, to visit the mental health services at the Health Center. I told the front desk I was suicidal and paranoid and got to sit with a sympathetic psychiatrist who informed me that I met all of the criteria for PTSD. I admitted out loud that the difficulty of existing, the daily extreme bodily pain, and the growing number of overdue medical bills being mailed to my dorm made me start to regularly consider death as an option to escape from all of it. I was informed that if I truly was feeling this way, then I would be placed under a 72-hour psychiatric hold and admitted to the hospital. I was still traumatized from the E.R. and still receiving medical bills. I lied, asked for my options for counseling, and was told that long-term counseling would be required for my case - I would be referred to therapists off-campus. I could barely navigate campus at the time. I returned to my dorm room and entered into a state of severe dissociation.

I’m entering into my fifth year at UO and I’m set to graduate with my BA in Spring 2024. I survived my freshman year, I even managed to pass a few classes every term - I was still put on academic probation, lost my financial aid, received a warning letter to my home address that I was about to flunk out of UO during 2020 and spent the entire summer writing letters of appeal to strangers, sending unnamed members of the UO Bureaucracy my medical records that depicted my bruised, broken, injured body and my fragile mental state. I routinely had to appeal Financial Aid until I finally hit the credit load that was considered “satisfactory.” I missed out on opportunities to explore my major, internships, and other opportunities during my freshman and sophomore years and spent my junior/senior year playing catch-up. I worked hard to get to this place and I did it on my own.

This is absolutely unacceptable for an institution that prides itself on acceptance and inclusion to do. UO staff reminded me that “the University can’t be held liable or sued because technically the city owns the intersection and the driver wasn’t affiliated with the university!” more often than they informed me of ways they’d be able to make me get to class easier. I didn’t get access to the academic tutors and support that student athletes get when they’re about to fail out of their D1 scholarship eligibility nor did I get access to medical assistance to help me recover from a severe fracture to my femur - I was able to get a referral to physical therapy from the surgeon and the Health center didn’t accept my insurance. I used this resource as long as I was financially able to and tried to ignore the athletes in my classes talking about the great massages they get for tight muscles. Schill raised our tuition for the Hayward Field remodel yet residence halls and other buildings on campus are in violation of ADA regulations. The AEC needs to do a serious review into their policies and ask themselves why they decided that a student who suffered from a major injury and required mobility aids for the foreseeable future was disqualified from receiving assistance.

I am furious that I have to try to reconcile the horrific trauma I underwent because some idiot at a busy and unsafe intersection decided to whip a left turn too hard without paying attention, with the desperate desire to remember the great things I’ve experienced and accomplished here at the University. When I first made this collage for Art 116, I was embarrassed to show it - it felt melodramatic, deeply personal, and really embarrassing. Following the responses from my classmates, I realized just how badly I had gotten fucked over as a student paying 40,000 dollars a year to attend this university. I hope that this act of traumadumping lights a fire under the University to review their policies and inspires other students to speak up about ableism they’ve faced on campus. I refuse to let another student, whether they were physically disabled before attending or become disabled during the school year go through what I went through.