Too Disabled For School
Today I was told “maybe I’m too sick to get an education” by someone in the disabilities services center at my college. Half of me wanted to start crying in her office, because secretly, I fear this too. The other half of me was outraged. Here I am, actively fighting to better myself and get an education while I’m too sick to work, and an able bodied person who is supposed to understand disabilities tells me that perhaps I should give up?
How dare she? She has no idea the strength it takes to be me. How hard I fight, every day as a chronic migraineur, just to exist. How hard it is just to clean my house and get groceries, to do the everyday, little things that she takes for granted.
I finally have the courage to do something selfish, just for me: To pursue my Bachelor’s degree in English and Creative Writing. All of the counselors and advisors have gone out of their way to help me come up with a game plan to get my degree, and we’ve had to get quite creative because of my limitations.
I never thought it would be the lady in disabilities services, accusing me of inconveniencing teachers with my medical absences while I’m in the hospital. Telling me that she couldn’t accommodate my type of disability--- which I believe is discrimination.
No one should be told they’re an inconvenience.
No one should be told they’re too broken for an education.
The entire purpose of disabilities services is to work with you and your professors to find a way to get you your education.
Just because I get migraines doesn’t mean I am less smart, less hardworking, or less deserving of a college education.
If anything, I am more hardworking and deserving. The pain that I have to deal with on a daily basis would make many people give up and sit on their couches, watching TV in the dark for the rest of their lives. But I’m out here fighting.
So, don’t you dare call me too broken for an education. I’m a fighter and I will get my degree.
I’m just shocked that I had to attempt to educate you that migraine is a real disability, and disgusted by the way you disregarded my disability and turned me out as a faker. The only thing I’m faking is my smile, as I leave your office.
Which are you most sensitive to?