When starting this blog, I knew that much of my writing was going to make me sound like I was constantly complaining about the state of disability rights. In some ways, this can’t be avoided. While we have come leaps and bounds in the past thirty years or so, every day something occurs to remind us of how far we still have to go. Today, I’m going to go a different direction altogether, because recent events in my life have shown how blessed I am, and just how much a good support system can do for the disabled.
Recently, I went through my bout of COVID. I was hoping to avoid it, but I knew that wasn’t to be with my suppressed immune system. I am also a teacher, so I’m around at least 150 kids a day in my classroom. I knew it was coming, and I’ll admit…I was worried. My uncle and two cousins nearly died of COVID. One of my uncles actually did die of it. My uncles weren’t very healthy to begin with, but to the best of my knowledge, my cousins were. They were all unvaccinated at the time. I had been vaccinated, but hadn’t gotten my booster yet. I was also afraid for my job. Employers tend to look down on employees that are out often, and I knew that having COVID was going to knock me flat on my back for awhile. All disabled people live with this fear. Sure, employers can’t fire you for being disabled. That doesn’t stop dishonest employers for firing you for a tiny mistake when they start gunning for you to leave.
I was out for nearly a month. My doctor signed me up for a free therapy that was infusion based, so my symptoms were mild. My recovery was long because despite therapy, I still had symptom for a couple of weeks. I was absolutely terrified about my work, because that’s an insanely long time for a teacher to be out of the classroom. Side note, though…don’t think for one moment that my vaccine didn’t work. It kept COVID off my back until the Epsilon variant came through, less deadly than Delta. I had mild symptoms and recovered. That’s exactly what the vaccine was supposed to do for someone with my suppressed immune system.
Instead, I learned that my district is amazing. Awesome. Fantastic. The very best.
Let’s start with the Algebra I team, along with my inclusion teacher. Before I started feeling the symptoms, I suddenly had the worst flare I’ve ever had in over twenty years of having RD. By mid-day, I could barely walk, had a fever and the chills to go with it. I was told in no uncertain terms that I WAS going home, and they would take care of the rest of the day without a sub. When I tested positive, they doubled their workload, teaching their own kids and coming in and teaching mine. They would load up kids and bring them into their own classes if there wasn’t a substitute. For one of those weeks, they did this for both me and another Algebra I teacher that was out for COVID also. When grades were due and only I was allowed in my online gradebook, they packed up the student work and left it on my doorstep. They did the same when my uncle died, and I had to leave in the middle of the day. There were never any questions asked.
I have worked in districts were I felt that the administration did not have my back, and it’s a horrible position to be in as a disabled woman. I spoke in my last blog about how many places feel as if the ADA laws were the extend of their obligations to the disabled. I can assure you that my district only STARTED there. Besides the fact that every part of the campus is completely accessible to me, they have gone above and beyond. When Uncle James died, I texted my AP that I needed to go to my family. They immediately released me and told me to tell them if I needed anything. When I had the flare, they responded with “Take care of yourself and feel better.” No questions asked, especially since they know our team well enough to know that we take care of each other. There was no pressure to come back during my bout with COVID, even though I was out far longer than the current “five days and you don’t have to test again” rule. They trusted me enough to know that when I could come back, I would. They checked on me regularly. When I came back, they even came out to my room to welcome me back personally.
In addition to COVID, they have done so much to make sure that the disabled population is fully included in everything. They hold all events downstairs in an area that we can get to. The activities during professional development days are designed so that even if it includes moving activities, we are included in ways that allow us full participation. I don’t feel like I’m getting patted on the head and catered to. (I’m usually the photographer, which works great for someone with anxiety problems and a fear of crowds.) Although the school legally has the required ADA number of disabled parking spots, they designated a special spot for me to park right beside my classroom that is pretty distant from disabled parking. (This was because of the location of the portable buildings.) They didn’t even had to mark it. They informed the faculty in a meeting that the parking spot was mine, and the faculty has had enough respect to honor it. I’ve never had an issue. The only thing I can complain about is class sizes, but they are desperately trying to hire teachers to get class sizes down. This is not an issue they can fix easily. They pay better than any local district, and they are out in the middle of nowhere.
This is what inclusion looks like, and I’d love to see other employers learn this lesson. The ADA was not ever intended to be the extent of inclusion, but rather a beginning. It was meant to incorporate the disabled community into the rest of society so that everyone benefited from the addition of talent and abilities that had been hidden away for way too long. Even in my district, there’s probably a long way to go yet. No one is perfect. The disabled aren’t asking for immediate perfection. We are asking you to listen to us, fix problems as they arise, and to not discriminate against us. I feel like my district is doing this, and I’m happy to be with them!
Between my Uncle James’s death and COVID, it’s been a rough school year. I have no doubts, though, that my team and administration has got my back. I couldn’t work with a better group of people.
Unapologetically Disabled 