With my college graduation just around the corner, I’ve recently began reminiscing about my time at Stern over the last four years. As a “real freshman,” graduation always seemed unattainable- as though I were on a treadmill, working toward a goal, but never able to fully reach it. I looked forward to college for a long time. Everyone I knew told me that college would be the best four years of my life.
But, contrary to their remarks, college was not easy nor fun for me. Aside from the normal stresses of college, classes, work, credits, and actually graduating on-time, I had additional and inescapable stress every single day that put a damper on my college experience. I, along with my three siblings, have a debilitating and degenerative neuromuscular disease that is under the umbrella of Muscular Dystrophy. General physicians, neurologists, and every kind of specialist you can think of, do not actually know what type of Muscular Dystrophy we have, but, seeing as there is no cure, the name of it is a moot point. Having this disease complicated, not only my everyday life, but my attempt at receiving a normalized education.
As you can imagine, there are many complications and negative aspects to having this disease. But, for me personally, one of the worst parts is the fear of the unknown; not knowing how much more muscle and ability I will lose and when, not knowing what kind of future and job I could possibly have, and not knowing the terrain of any unfamiliar place I want or need to go.
After I received my letter of acceptance from Stern in April 2011, I decided to visit the campus before I signed on for four years on unknown territory. I got in contact with disability services and made an appointment to discuss my disability, and to assess if it was even possible for someone with my personal needs to go to Stern. My incredible and supportive parents drove me from Teaneck, NJ because I am unable to drive and I can neither climb the steps of a city bus nor walk from a bus stop to Stern. I met with a few people, explained my disability, and gave a few examples of minor accommodations I would need that would not cost them anything. I was ready and willing to walk out of there and never come back, and possibly not go to college, because of my burden. But I was assured that I would be accommodated and my safety and peace of mind would be ensured. I was naïve back then and believed what I was told, excited that I would get to go to college and be just like any normal able-bodied student, despite my disability.
Registration for classes is a notoriously stressful time in Stern, especially for “real freshmen,” who register last and are left with open classes in arbitrary and annoying time slots that usually do not make a cohesive schedule. It was additionally stressful for me every single semester. I physically cannot walk back and forth from building to building at all, let alone in a limited amount of time in between classes. During my preliminary meeting with registration and disability services, I was told I would get assistance in getting over-tallied into potentially closed out classes that fit with my schedule and were in “the right building” on a given day, so that I could take all of my classes in the one building per day. Nine weeks later, I was suddenly told that I could not be accommodated in this area, and I was left on my own to navigate the registration system by myself and try to figure out which classrooms on myyu were in the same building. This is just one of many stories I have of not being properly accommodated.
Over the duration of my four years at Stern, there were six other students who had some sort of physical disability. While this is a very small minority compared to the one thousand able-bodied undergrads, it is a significant amount of disabled people in a small school. As such, there are certain accommodations Stern could and should do to facilitate these students. There are certain laws under the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) that institutions must legally abide to. For example, several years ago, Stern did not have a regulation handicap accessible toilet until my sister, Rivka, one of the six, fought for a year and a half to get one installed. Installing a bar on a bathroom wall does not make it a handicapped toilet if the bar is too high and the toilet is too low.
It is also extremely important to remember that handicapped people are still human beings. People in registration and the administration have made me feel like an inferior sub-human being on more than one occasion. They have not let me speak for myself, or listen to me explain what I needed. I have left offices crying quite a few times, out of anger, frustration, and feeling that I do not matter and was being discriminated against- and I am not an emotional person. Nobody knows what a handicapped person actual needs better than the person herself. Thank G-d, I have had amazingly kind, understanding, accommodating, and helpful professors who have made my life much easier and less stressful by asking me if I needed anything, what I needed, and what they could do to make my semester easier. I also think it would be helpful if Stern had a disability liaison who is actually disabled, so that disabled students are helped in the ways they need, from someone who can understand their needs best.
Stern did not have to accept my application. I did not come in under false pretenses, nor was my disability ever hidden. It was even the subject of my admission essay. I cannot help or change the fact that I am crippled, nor can I change the fact that I have physically deteriorated significantly compared to the state of my condition four years ago. But I do not think I was wrong in expecting people to be understanding and helpful, especially in a Yeshiva. Mitzvot ben adam l’chavero, commandments between man and fellow man, are just as important as any other commandment. Doing acts of kindness is is one of the pillars of Judaism. It is crucial to remember that the people behind the tuition money matter too, even if they are crippled.
On a related note: My family is currently in a contest to win a handicap accessible van. Voting is free and only takes a minute. We desperately need this car! Please vote for us and spread the word to vote for the Herzfelds!! You can vote once a day every day until May 31st. Please help me and my siblings, some of whom are even more disabled than I am, give back to our amazing parents, who never get a break from being our full-time health aides! Thank you and tizku l’mitzvot u’l’ma’asim tovim!
Read our story and vote here: http://www.mobilityawarenessmonth.com/entrant/esther-herzfeld-teaneck-nj/