College systems are built for the healthy, leaving chronically ill students like me fighting to participate in the experience we were promised. When people picture going to college, they see the parties, hours spent studying, late nights with roommates and running around campus trying not to be late. They don’t picture hiding in their dorm alone whenever they’re not in class, just to avoid getting sick or tired to function. But for chronically ill students, that’s the reality. Colleges are designed for healthy bodies and that has to change.
Many campuses operate under the assumption that all students can participate at full mental and physical capacity, but that’s not true whatsoever. This assumption makes it even more difficult for chronically ill students who are already struggling to keep up in these systems. For me, at Columbia, my academic and housing accommodations have made it possible for me to attend classes, but not to live the “college life” everyone talks about. I can’t attend in-person events or even mandatory floor meetings because it can take days to recover from the hours-long lectures I need to attend. The disability office organizes events, but when they’re held in-person, I’m excluded, once again.
Colleges need to listen to chronically ill students and create new policies that recognize our needs. Remote access should be standard, not considered a “special accommodation.” Professors should be trained to understand invisible disabilities, and universities should have a staff member dedicated to supporting chronically ill students — people who understand the challenges without making it seem like a burden.
Even though awareness around disability has been growing in the past few years, colleges still aren’t built for the chronically ill or disabled. According to the National Center for Education Statistics, 21% of undergraduate students in the U.S. have a disability. Many never tell their schools due to the fear of stigma. With the Department of Education’s budget being cut, modifications and accommodations are threatened, and that fear is only rising.
The gaps we’re seeing aren’t just present at Columbia. Washington Square News reported in 2020 that NYU requires students with hidden disabilities to submit multiple forms and in-person orientations to receive the accommodations they so desperately need. At Amherst College, a 2017 survey found frustration with the accessibility services for “less visible” disabilities and high student-to-staff ratios that made it even harder to get the needed support. Students are forced to advocate for themselves — something their disabilities often prevent.
So why haven’t these changes been put in place? At Columbia, college leaders point to data to show that students are more successful when learning in person, as the Chronicle previously reported. Even though Columbia does offer hybrid and synchronous or asynchronous remote classes, in Spring 2024, around 91% of courses were in-person. Not being able to adapt only isolates the students who need access even further. For us, hybrid options aren’t for convenience; they’re about survival.
Chronically ill students aren’t asking for special treatment — we’re asking for resources so we’re able to succeed. Illness doesn’t follow a schedule, and we can’t always predict when we will have a flare-up. Small changes, like hybrid options for lectures and events, or faculty training on chronic illness and accessibility, would make Columbia a mentor in inclusivity.
If universities truly want to uphold their claims on inclusion and diversity, they must set up systems that include everyone — not just the healthiest students. College is supposed to be an opportunity to grow, build a community and create, not a fight to get the experience you deserve.
Morgan Bruner is a junior journalism major at Columbia College Chicago.
Copy edited by Brandon Anaya
