This is UMich

by Anna Xianyu Bochenek

I had been waiting for this.

With the rain of confetti on my screen, I knew I was going to “Go Blue.” Ever since I was a little girl, I dreamed of attending the University of Michigan. Maybe it was because my favorite color was blue, or that my older brother had attended the school, or simply because it offers vast social and academic opportunities for students. With such a large and diverse campus, it would be accessible for me, right?

I was excited about this.

Along with my admission, I was also accepted into a living-learning community where I would connect with other members over our passions as future health professionals. Our community is dedicated to learning about health disparities, so we take additional classes together, one being focused on health and the healthcare system. The curriculum lightly touched on disability discrimination, stating the unfortunate reality that a majority of doctors would prefer to treat patients without disabilities. Additionally, a 2011 study found that those with disabilities “receive significantly fewer preventive services and have poorer health status than individuals without disabilities” (Reichard, 2011). As a result, patient outcomes are much worse for those with disabilities. That’s where we come in. As the next generation of doctors, nurses, public health officials, and more, we “Gen-Zers” will be the ones to tackle these long-established issues head-on.

While I’m only in my first year of undergrad, I already intend to major in neuroscience on the pre-med track. I have a disability called Erb-Duchenne Paralysis, or Erb’s Palsy. It’s a type of brachial plexus injury from birth. I was adopted from a rural area of China, so I don’t know any of the specific details. What I do know is that there is corrective surgery for this condition, but only within a small window of time after birth. Otherwise, there is currently no technology to repair my damaged nerves. This has motivated me to study neuroscience and become a doctor, but also to hold a goal of eventually conducting my own studies on neural growth and regeneration. I understand how the research I will conduct can positively impact the neurodivergent and disability community. I am not passionate about research to only develop treatments, as that itself can oftentimes perpetuate ableist messaging, but I want to conduct translational research that gives patients more options than “there is no cure.” Thanks to UMich’s commitment to expanding research opportunities, I was able to find a research project in my first semester investigating goals for end-of-life care for patients with Alzheimer’s and Dementia. While my current dreams to pursue an MD/Ph.D. may change, my passion for medical science keeps me excited for the future.

I also rekindled my love of music by joining the Arts Chorale, a choir on campus that includes a diverse group of individuals and majors. Singing helps me to escape my anxieties and self-consciousness. The feeling of being completely in the moment, effortlessly echoing the rhythms with an orchestra behind you, brings me indescribable joy. Just as important as medical treatments, holistic treatments can be essential to individuals living with disabilities and/or neurodivergence. Music serves as a valuable, nonpharmacological resource to boost mood, community, and self-confidence.

At UMich, I found something I had never had before, a group for disability advocacy. When I was younger, I was ashamed of being disabled. Due to my limited mobility and permanently bent elbows, I would always wear long sleeves and hoped that nobody would notice. Still, my ears were not averted to people’s snide comments and my eyes could see their second glances. With access to the internet, I see disability and neurodivergent representation, but also numerous ableist videos on social media mocking those with such identities, unfortunately outweighing the positive messaging. Due to the fear of shame, I never truly embraced my identity as a disabled person or shared my everyday struggles with anyone until I joined DAC HP (Disability Advocacy Coalition for Health Professionals). In the club, we have held discussions about our experiences living with disabilities/neurodivergence. It is here that I finally found a community that I know is safe and can relate to this aspect of my identity. We harbor respect for each other: our individual and combined experiences drive what we pursue.

Little did I know that this University required us to constantly advocate for our communities.

I did not expect this.

Ableism is everywhere. At first, it was the bathroom stalls and showers not having accessible hooks. Then it was having to return dining hall dishware on rotating trays up high. There are many accounts of students being outed for having testing accommodations by professors or taking tests in a faraway building. Numerous building layouts don’t allow easy access to elevators, and finding the specific elevator that services your floor can be exhausting. More specifically, there is also deeply rooted systemic ableism. Some colleges, such as the School of Nursing and LSA, require individuals to consent to potentially waiving their need for accommodations according to the University’s Technical Standards. These ableist designs require change, both in policy and in the attitude of faculty and stakeholders. While I’m not naive to the fact that ableism is difficult to eliminate, I never expected it to be entrenched in both day-to-day and professional life.

We can change this.

I cannot express my appreciation for the SSD (Services for Students with Disabilities) enough. They help to provide specific and unique accommodations for students. Their purpose and worth cannot be overstated. I have received accommodations in the form of step stools for my reach limitations in the lab and access to an ebook database due to the weight restriction on my back. Because of these resources, I can start my education in the medical sciences and complete my necessary labs.

That being said, these ableist issues persist at the university. It’s organizations such as DAC HP, Disability Justice at Michigan (DJAM), Medical Students for Disability Health and Advocacy (MSDHA), Disability Culture @ UM, Autism Spectrum Coalition, D/deaf and hard-of-hearing Wolverines, Council for Disability Concerns, Society of Disabled and Neurodiverse Students, and more advocacy or support groups that work tirelessly to get these problems addressed and create safe spaces. By calling out these problems, and creating solutions, we can collectively combat ableism and expand access in areas big or small. It is oftentimes the day-to-day issues that consistently negatively affect our communities. Even in my first semester, I created an SBAR(Situation, Background, Assessment, and Recommendation) advocating for the bathroom hooks to be lowered in my dorm for my healthcare class. Whether my request is fulfilled or not, I know it is essential that I use my position as a student and my voice as an advocate to keep pressuring the University to live up to its claim of inclusivity for all students.

An ideal future would be for disabled/neurodivergent/chronically ill students to be supported by able-bodied individuals just as I have found that these communities have been supportive of me. In these communities, we recognize that we don’t need to pity or idolize each other. We are people motivated by our disabilities, but not defined by them. Our disabilities or neurodivergence is a part of who we are, but not who we are. By having a diverse network of allies, our requests may be listened to and revolutionize the current culture at UMich. This, we can achieve together.

Works Cited

Reichard, A., Stolzle, H., & Fox, M. H. (2011). Health disparities among adults with physical

disabilities or cognitive limitations compared to individuals with no disabilities in the

United States. Disability and health journal, 4(2), 59-67.