This is from the 2024-25 edition of the Knowledge Forum.
I wrote the piece below following a discussion with an AI bot. Together, we unpacked disability justice at the university, critically examining structural barriers while dreaming up futures rooted in collective care, accessibility, and inclusion. Along the way, we wandered into moments of humour and existential musings, blending lightness and depth into what became an exploration of challenges and liberatory possibilities. The traditional university model is designed based on, and continues to cling to, outdated meritocratic principles that perpetuate exclusion and systemic ableism (Dolmage, 2017). It operates as though a one-size-fits-all approach to learning - rigid lectures, inflexible assessments, and deadlines driven by institutional pressures - can somehow address students’ diverse needs. Disabled students, especially those with episodic functional impacts, are left scrambling to conform to systems that actively shut them out.
Retrofit accommodations, meanwhile, treat accessibility as an afterthought. Disabled students must navigate a labyrinth of stigmatizing medical documentation and endless meetings, emails, and petitions simply to access the same education as their peers (Piepzna-Samarasinha, 2018). This system exhausts more than it empowers - and its failures cannot be patched over with surface fixes.
Accessibility advisors are positioned as gatekeepers to accommodations. Too much time is spent on meetings and emails, advocating with/for students, while structural barriers remain. Faculty often feel uncertain about their responsibilities, and the rigidity of academia grinds up against the lived realities of disabled students.
Universal Design for Learning (UDL) provides a framework for rethinking accessibility, not as a concession but as a foundation. UDL calls for constant reflection and adaptation of the means of representation, expression, and engagement (Dolmage, 2017). Inflexible teaching approaches are major barriers for disabled students that UDL can help solve.
However, the goal isn’t just pedagogical change; it’s dismantling structures that prioritize productivity over people. Meritocracy fetishizes competition without considering how privilege shapes both (Piepzna-Samarasinha, 2018). Meaningful change requires cutting deeper into the roots of ableism, which are tangled with capitalism, neoliberalism, and colonialism. This three-headed beast thrives on rigid hierarchies and punishes those who operate outside them (Sins Invalid, 2019). A system built to exclude cannot be amended without confronting its fundamental injustices.
How do we reimagine the university through disability justice?
Let’s start with students setting their own pace without penalties, where semesters are flexible, and learning prioritizes mastery of essential requirements over deadlines. It’s not enough to tweak syllabi or offer grace periods - accessibility must be baked in. Faculty, staff, and students would co-create inclusive environments based on trust and understanding, rather than resistance to change (Dolmage, 2017; Frias, 2023).
Accessibility offices would evolve into advocacy hubs led by disabled voices who steer policy, shape practices, and drive institutional equity. Co-created with disabled student leaders, these spaces would be accessible by design and rooted in collective care, with physical and digital spaces for activism, empowerment, and connection. Peer-led initiatives could provide mentorship and solidarity, challenging tokenism (Dolmage, 2017; Sins Invalid, 2019). Campus-wide events, learning opportunities, social programming, and celebrations, alongside student- driven advocacy, could shift perceptions and create lasting cultural change (Piepzna-Samarasinha, 2018). Institutions would recognize disability not just as a medical diagnosis but as an identity, a community, and a source of strength (Clare, 2017; Baldwin, 2023). Affinity spaces, like Yellow House and the Ban Righ Centre, could lead such efforts, offering resources and programming that challenge the marginalization of disability within the academic fabric (Frias, 2023), making room for power and creativity. Such spaces would prioritize mental, emotional, and sensory well-being and would resist ableist productivity norms (Piepzna-Samarasinha, 2018). And they would provide restorative infrastructure that would allow neurodivergent students to ‘unmask’ at school, “While these might seem so automatic and thoughtless to you, I’m here actively smiling, actively keeping pleasant tone of voice, actively wording phrases and letters into comprehensible language, actively holding onto my id for dear life and trying not to let it loose” (Gee23, 2023).
Decolonizing academia pushes us to consider ableism as a tool of colonialism and to explore our collective liberation through decolonizing perspectives on disability, developing interdependence and community-building, practicing restorative justice, returning land to Indigenous Peoples, and cross-pollination between Indigenization efforts and accessibility initiatives (Sins Invalid, 2019; Quirici, 2019).
While dreaming of liberatory futures, we must hold immediate realities alongside long-term goals. Harm reduction offers pragmatic pathways forward, balancing survival and justice (brown, 2020). Acts of care plants seeds for justice while acknowledging systemic limits. Harm reduction might streamline bureaucratic accommodation processes, encourage flexible pedagogies, and build relationships between accessibility services and disabled students. Educating faculty in harm-reducing practices could be a significant step, not a systemic overhaul, but undeniable progress (Dolmage, 2017).
Even amid oppressive systems, resilience and resistance remain paths to hope. Justice demands futures rooted in collective care, spaces that prioritize humanity over productivity, and systems that uplift rather than exclude. Liberatory futures are radical acts of imagination. By dismantling meritocracy, challenging ableism, and embedding care into every layer of our institutions, we celebrate diversity as central to the academic system.
References
- Baldwin, J. (2023, January 27). Disability justice: What does it mean and what does it look like in practice? DJNO. https://www.djno.ca/blog
- brown, a. m. (2022). Saving our own lives: A liberatory practice of harm reduction. Haymarket Books.
- Clare, E. (2017). Brilliant imperfection: Grappling with cure. Duke University Press.
- Connor, D. J. (2019). Rethinking disability: A disability studies guide to inclusive practices. Routledge.
- Dolmage, J. T. (2017). Academic ableism: Disability and higher education. University of Michigan Press.
- Frias, D. (2023, October 1). Disability & climate justice: A Q&A with Daphne Frias. Good Good Good. www.goodgoodgood.co/articles/daphne-frias
- Gee23 (2023). Some words for NTs. Neurodivergent Pride (2), 37-42. [zine]. Microcosm.Pub.
- Piepzna-Samarasinha, L. L. (2018). Care work: Dreaming disability justice. Arsenal Pulp Press.
- Quirici, M. (2019). Disability studies. The Year’s Work in Critical and Cultural Theory (27), 1-21.
- Sins Invalid. (2019). Skin, tooth, and bone: The basis of movement is our people (2nd ed). Sins Invalid.
Toni Thornton (MA, M.Ed) is a disabled, queer, and nonbinary settler woman who grew up on the traditional territories of the Williams Treaties First Nations and other Indigenous Peoples. With over 25 years of experience in equity-focused education, Toni has been deeply committed to building inclusive communities in Katarokwi/Kingston, where they are a single parent and community organizer. Currently serving as an Accessibility Advisor at Queen’s University, Toni finds immense joy in meeting with disabled students and collaborating on accessibility plans that reflect their unique needs and aspirations. Prior to their current role, Toni gained invaluable experience as an Instructional Designer and Curriculum Developer in the Faculty of Arts and Science at Queen’s University for eight years. They also worked for seven years at a local non-profit arts-based school and center for adults with developmental disabilities, as well as several years in the Limestone District School Board in special education classrooms. Their work is driven by a passion for collaboration, anti-oppressive education, and decolonizing practices, with a healthy side of state-smashing and contagious belly laughter. When not juggling essential requirements or advocating for accessibility, Toni enjoys coffee-fueled idea exchanges and the collective envisioning of liberatory spaces.