Leveling the Academic Field: The Role of AI for Students with Disabilities

A person's head in blue outline with a futuristic interface in the background.

Navigating academia with multiple disabilities, including a visual impairment presented significant challenges. AI tools like ChatGPT offer an exciting possibility — they have the potential to level the playing field for individuals with disabilities. However, as Sam Altman CEO of OpenAI, and Mira Murati, the company’s CTO, recently highlighted in a joint statement, these AI tools also pose potential risks.

More than 350 people signed a statement released by the Center for AI Safety, an organization working to reduce AI risks, The Wall Street Journal reports.

I recall my college days at Loyola Marymount University, where a professor, Todd Shoepe, acknowledging my disability, allowed me to use color copies of diagrams for tests while my classmates were given black and white photocopies. This was not an unfair advantage; it was necessary for me to properly express my understanding of the material.

However, the guidelines governing the use of AI tools like ChatGPT are still under development. Casey Boyle Director of the Digital Writing and Research Lab at the The University of Texas at Austin told The Chronicle of Higher Education, “People are really focused, for good reasons, on academic integrity and academic honesty, and trying to redefine what that means with these new tools.” Yet, I worry this might become another excuse to deny accommodations under the guise of "unfair advantage".

Students with disabilities often face an uphill struggle in academia. Boyle rightly points out, “Students with disabilities or students who require accommodations are already working uphill. When we overreact, we’re increasing the slope of those hills.” Denying the use of AI tools like ChatGPT, despite the caution surrounding the technology, would only make this climb steeper.

AI tools can assist students with mobility challenges by eliminating the need for physical trips to libraries. They can help students who struggle with initiating conversations — such as those on the autism spectrum — by suggesting conversation starters. And for students who battle the "terror of the blank page," generative AI tools could suggest an opening paragraph to get the creative process started.

I implore educators to consider AI tools as allies, not enemies. Professor Manjeet Rege of the University of St. Thomas suggests, “I really want you as a student to do that critical thinking and not give me content produced by an AI… if you would like to take aspects of that, put it into a generative AI model and then look at analogies to help you understand that better, yes, absolutely, that is something that I encourage.”

Despite these uncertainties, I remain hopeful. Just as my professor at LMU understood and defended my need for accommodations, I hope educators will recognize the significant value AI tools like ChatGPT can offer those with disabilities.

Navigating the Concert Jungle: The Untold Struggles of Disabled Music Lovers

Taylor Swift performs during The Eras Tour at Gillette Stadium on May 20, 2023 in Foxborough, Massachusetts.

As a wheelchair user and partner to Canine Companions® Pico, I cherish the excitement of live concerts. However, my experiences are frequently marred by an under-the-radar struggle: securing accessible seating. This problem, largely overlooked by mainstream media, affects numerous individuals in the disability community. While Ticketmaster frequently garners attention for mishandled public on-sales or excessive fees, leading to an unusual apology in January, the hardships faced by disabled concert-goers rarely draw attention. This reality became glaring during the recent Taylor Swift Eras Tour.

The Americans with Disabilities Act mandates that approximately 1% of a venue's seating should be disability-accessible. Yet, ticket brokers often abuse this policy, disadvantaging those of us with a genuine need for these seats. During the Eras Tour, disabled fans found themselves competing for a meager 0.005% of seats. As disability rights advocate Amy Webb accurately predicted to Cosmopolitan before the public on-sale, "For the disability community, it's going to be nearly impossible."

When rain fell at Gillette Stadium Saturday, Swift decided to persist with the show. While this might have augmented the spectacle for some, it jeopardized the safety and well-being of disabled fans. Our electronic medical equipment, much like Swift's piano, isn't designed to endure a downpour. Disabled fans found themselves in a no-win situation.

The struggle for accessible seating isn't simply about securing a place at a concert. It's about our right to partake in public life and enjoy the same experiences as everyone else. It's about acknowledging that accessibility is a right, not a privilege.

The ADA exists to ensure that we can access venues and live our lives as the varied individuals with diverse interests we are. However, the reality often deviates from this ideal. Laws designed to protect us from unnecessary disclosure of our disability status paradoxically open the door for abuse. It's not uncommon to see disabled seating suddenly appear on third-party sites like Vivid Seats and StubHub at inflated prices following a public on-sale. With little recourse, the only deterrent to such behavior is a guilty conscience, as these folks knowingly exploit fans who often live on fixed or limited incomes. Profit margins often overshadow these considerations. The lack of enforcement and systemic abuse of this honor-system policy by ticket brokers suggest that we have a long road ahead.

Artists, venues, and ticketing platforms must do more to ensure that everyone, regardless of physical abilities, can enjoy live music. The industry must transition toward inclusivity and accessibility for all.

As Webb fittingly said, "When systems fail us, it's the community that steps up."

#Accessibility #LiveMusicForAll #TaylorSwiftErasTour #ConcertAccessibility #DisabilityRights

Our Stories, Our Images: The Quest for Authentic Disability Representation

The CPSC commissioned new stock photos showing Americans with disabilities using a variety of home safety devices, including portable generators.

As a disabled person, I’m often searching for my reflection in brand messaging. Companies like SKIMS, Gap, Mattel, Inc. and Apple have set benchmarks. Now, the U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission joins this move toward inclusivity—a cue for all brands to follow.

As The American Association of People with Disabilities President and CEO Maria Town told NPR, the move “brings us closer to embracing that disabled people are everywhere."

"There was a real sense of helping right a wrong and delivering something important for a community that's too often left out of many important conversations." added CPSC Social Media Specialist Joseph Galbo.

And we are.

In our visual-centric world, images mold our perceptions and beliefs. With AI-generated photography, we can portray even more diversity. However, we must avoid compromising authenticity, especially when representing diverse groups, including disabled people. Authentic representation also leads to brand connection and creates job opportunities for disabled models.

Tokenism isn’t the answer. It's not about sporadically featuring a disabled person but about consistently recognizing our existence and contributions. Our lives are a tapestry of unique experiences deserving visibility.

Brands, when you incorporate authentic representation, you're not merely acknowledging us—you're validating us. You're sending a strong message—we matter, we’re a part of society, and our experiences and perspectives are valuable.

This inclusivity encourages other businesses to follow suit. It might inspire a young disabled individual to dream bigger and see limitless possibilities. It could spark conversations about accessibility and inclusivity, nudging society toward equal representation.

So, let's challenge the status quo. Brands, mirror CPSC’s initiative. Show us in your advertisements, not as charity, but as an acknowledgement of our existence and value. Use AI responsibly to assist and amplify authentic representation, not to replace it.

Ultimately, we don’t want special treatment; we want equal treatment. We crave representation that mirrors our diverse experiences authentically. We are more than a checkbox on the diversity and inclusion agenda—we are threads in the intricate fabric of humanity, and it's time our representation reflected that.

It's not just about seeing disabled people in advertising. It's about seeing us as we are. This is our call to action for brands everywhere. Are you listening?

People with disabilities aren't often seen in stock photos. The CPSC is changing that

Unseen Costs: Navigating Student Debt and the Disability Tax in America

An artistic rendering of a wheelchair user in a cap and gown. His hands are clasped and he looks depressed. Above him, a chain link.

As we enter the final week of May, dedicated to highlighting mental health awareness, it's essential to discuss student loan debt and the "disability tax" — colloquially known as the Crip Tax.

This invisible tax represents the extra expenses incurred by those with disabilities, ranging from increased transportation costs and frequent medical appointments to accessible housing requirements and assistive technologies. According to the National Disability Institute, people with disabilities pay an extra $17,690 each year to maintain a similar standard of living as a household without a member with a disability. When combined with the burden of student loan repayment, the financial landscape becomes increasingly challenging.

An analysis from the U.S. Department of Education reveals a shocking truth — nearly one-third of borrowers hold student loan debt without possessing a degree. Research from the Education Data Initiative found that the average public university student borrows $31,410 to attain a bachelor’s degree. Moreover, the National Center for Education Statistics (NCES) reports that the six-year graduation rate for students with disabilities at four-year colleges is 49.5%, compared to approximately 68% for students without disabilities.

Existing student loan forgiveness programs often overlook these hardships. The Public Service Loan Forgiveness (PSLF) program, for instance, mandates a 10-year commitment to public service employment, a condition untenable for many.

Income-Driven Repayment (IDR) plans, though ostensibly beneficial, have inherent flaws. By concentrating on annual disposable income, these plans can impose disproportionate repayments on disabled borrowers with lower incomes. This issue becomes especially glaring when considering that the labor force participation rate for individuals with disabilities is 38.3%, with an unemployment rate of 7.0%. In contrast, the same statistics for people without a disability are 77.4% and 3.0% respectively according to the latest data from the U.S. Department of Labor.

The Total and Permanent Disability (TPD) discharge — a beacon of hope — fails to provide relief for all. Qualification is often a convoluted process, leaving many behind.

The pending Supreme Court case concerning widespread student loan forgiveness might not benefit many in our community. Why? Because it primarily centers on forgiveness that doesn't affect monthly payments for those of us still carrying debt. In contrast, IDR plans are designed to adjust loan payments based on income, with forgiveness occurring for most at the 25-year mark.

We urgently need further modifications to IDR plans. Calculations should include disability status and consider our elevated cost of living. Incorporating these added costs into the monthly payment formula could provide significant relief.

The weight of student loan debt should not disproportionately rest on our shoulders.

The Broken Promises of Accessible Travel: A First-Hand Perspective

An artistic rendering of a wheelchair user on an airplane, He sits in his chair in the main cabin. Head slightly down. Looking outside the window.

Today, I find myself echoing the eloquent Inigo Montoya from "The Princess Bride."

"Accessibility: You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means."

The prospect of spontaneously selecting a destination and embarking on a journey has never been feasible for me, whether it's a simple night out or a more extended travel. There's always a near-reflexive need for research, extensive planning and, unfortunately, a dose of apprehension about the journey ahead. An unavoidable question looms: "Will this trip be as disability-friendly as it claims to be?"

From the moment a trip idea sparks, anxiety follows.

A recent USA TODAY article by Zach Wichter underscored a disheartening truth: Progress for disabled travelers is not coming fast enough. According to the latest U.S. Department of Transportation data, airlines damage or otherwise mishandle about 1.5% of the mobility devices they transport each month. In 2022, that meant 11,389 incidents. It's essential to note these figures may not fully represent the issue, as not everyone reports their damage to the airline. When your legs are broken, the bureaucracy of filing paperwork may feel insurmountable.

Every trip brings with it the fear of damage to my wheelchair. More than a mobility device, it's an extension of myself, and much like Canine Companions® Pico, integral to my autonomy and freedom. The idea of it being damaged, lost or mishandled during a flight isn't unfounded, and no amount of in-flight entertainment can alleviate that anxiety.

Travel can be equally challenging for those with non-physical disabilities. As Heather Ansley from Paralyzed Veterans of America aptly said, “Air travel discriminates against just about every group of people with disabilities."

Fears extend beyond the flight.

Will the hotel room genuinely be wheelchair-accessible? I can't count how many times I've booked rooms purportedly adhering to ADA guidelines that I physically couldn't enter. Actuators are missing, doors are heavy, and I often lack the necessary space to maneuver through the doorway. The same quizzical response usually follows when I raise these issues to hotel management: "You know, that's a good point. We'll look into that!"

Then there's the enjoyment of the trip itself.

Can I navigate independently? What types of pathways are available? Will I be able to visit local attractions, or will I encounter insurmountable steps or broken elevators? When I inquire about accessibility, I'm asking, 'Can I navigate this by myself?' It's not a prelude to a joke about how many non-disabled people it takes for a disabled person to enjoy autonomy.

Accessibility isn't merely about adding ramps or widening doorways. It's about genuinely understanding and addressing the unique needs of each individual.

While it's encouraging to see progress — like Sen. Duckworth's proposed MOBILE Act—we are still far from where we need to be.

#GlobalAccessibilityAwarenessDay #Travel

Cruising Altitude: Progress for disabled travelers is not coming fast enough

Global Accessibility Awareness Day Part II

A collage of four photos that demonstrate different types of accessibility issues. 

Top left: A laptop with accessible features for web.

Top Right shows a cartoon series of individuals some wearing headphones for auditory processing challenges.

Bottom Left: A handful of people in a crowded space some are wearing masks for invisible disabilities 

Bottom Right is a series of steps leading up to a building demonstrating the need for elimination of physical barriers.

Happy Global Accessibility Awareness Day. As we celebrate let’s remember accessibility can take on many forms. When we make the world more accessible to all we make it more inclusive.

#GlobalAccessibilityAwarenessDay #Technology #DisabilityAwareness #Disability #GAAD2023 #GAAD

Global Accessibility Awareness Day 2023

A futuristic assistive tech concept art with sleek design, neon lights, holographic interface, personalized AI, and a user-friendly experience.

Global Accessibility Awareness Day may officially be two days away, but advocacy isn’t dictated by a calendar. As we prepare to celebrate, I am reminded of both the progress we've made and the challenges that remain.

Recently, a story in YourTango by Nia Tipton highlighted an all-too-familiar story of a disabled passenger who shared in a viral TikTok that she was forced to exit the plane without her mobility aids. Despite having made prior arrangements for wheelchair assistance, she was left stranded on her flight, forced to walk off the plane, tripped, fell, and eventually passed out due to the lack of necessary assistance. She was then rushed through the airport, berated, and made to feel like a burden.

This is not the world we should be living in. This is not the experience anyone should have to go through.

And yet, there is a glimmer of hope. CultofMac.com reports that this week, ahead of WWDC23 Apple previewed some of their upcoming features aimed at those with disabilities. Among these features are 'Live Speech' and 'Personal Voice', these tools allow people with disabilities to type what they want to say and have it spoken aloud, or to have their own speech transformed into clear, synthetic speech. In creating these features, Apple isn't just making their products more accessible; they are affirming our worth, our potential, and our place in the world.

While these advances in technology are promising, challenges persist. As Caroline Casey founder of the Valuable 500 writes in a recent Forbes piece, "Discrimination of people with disabilities is a protracted tale – but this should be a motivator or an opportunity to be accountable and take action." We need to address the systematic issues that continue to marginalize individuals with disabilities, particularly in the workplace.

The facts are stark. Recent research from the Valuable 500 shows that only 3% of leaders would speak out openly about their disability or caregiving role. When we consider that 1 in 4 has a disability, this is troubling. We need to make space for different perspectives, cultivate workplaces where employees are able to be their authentic selves. We need leaders who understand disability does not equate to inability and that our experiences, voices, and insights are not only necessary but also enriching. Companies looking to be more inclusive should look for more than a culture fit. They should strive for a culture add.

On this lead up to to Global Accessibility Awareness Day, let's remember that our journey toward creating an inclusive and equitable society for all, including people with disabilities, is ongoing. It’s not only about installing ramps and elevators or developing speech recognition software—it's about fostering respect, empathy, and understanding. It's about acknowledging that disability is not a deficit but simply a different way of experiencing the world.

The Toll of Advocacy On Mental Health

A stressed and duress brain depicted in the form of digital art. The brain is shown as being red and pulsating with veins visible.

Advocacy is not complaining.

Constantly advocating for our rights can take a toll on our mental health. Fighting for equal access and accommodations should not be seen as "complaining" or "problematic," but rather as a necessary step to ensure that we are able to live our lives. Yet, too often advocacy is dismissed as a nuisance by those who aren’t able or refuse to understand our lived experience.

Advocacy is about educating, raising awareness, and creating change. Those who view it as a problem do so from a place of privilege. Having the audacity to ask for equality isn’t complaining. What too many advocates know is that if laws were upheld, if equity were normative, if the 61 million disabled Americans or 1.3 billion worldwide felt heard and understood, we wouldn’t have to be as persistent as we are to effect change.

Persistence often gets mislabeled as a problem, when in actuality the problem itself is the inequity, and injustice we grapple with daily. Too often when faced with the question of which problem is easier to solve, the scale overwhelmingly tips toward silencing us as advocates. The inequity we’re laser focused on addressing is dismissed as either too costly, too time-consuming, or too unimportant to solve.

Advocacy can sometimes be a threat to our psychological and physical safety. As a recent case in New York City highlights, we may face significant challenges when seeking reasonable accommodations for our disability. The New York Post reports a woman is facing eviction after requesting reasonable accommodations for her disability following a note from her co-op stating she “complained" too much after initial requests were ignored.

The optics and power imbalances are also hard to ignore. While some advocates are thought to be complaining, the same complaint from someone in a position of power gains traction. As Amanda Morris of The Washington Post reported Friday, The Mobile Act, aimed at easing air travel for disabled passengers, has gained bipartisan support in Congress thanks to the leadership and advocacy of Senator Duckworth who has led the charge for equitable travel since joining Congress in 2013.

Advocating for our rights and equal access should not be seen as a burden or a complaint. It is our right as individuals with disabilities to have equal access to housing, employment, and other opportunities. However, it is important to recognize the toll that constantly fighting for our rights can take on our mental health and well-being.

A survey conducted by the Disability Rights Bar Association hosted by Burton Blatt Institute (BBI) at Syracuse University found 77% of disabled respondents reported experiencing discrimination, and 73% reported experiencing mental health issues related to that discrimination.

It is time for society to recognize the importance of accessibility and the rights of disabled individuals and to work toward creating a more inclusive and supportive world for all.

#MentalHealthAwareness

From The Classroom To The Boardroom: A Journey of Disability Mental Health

A disabled wheelchair user sits with his hands covering his face in frustration.

As I reflect on Mental Health Awareness Month, I am reminded of the ongoing struggles that disabled people face daily. For those of us living with disabilities, the fight for equal rights and accommodations often feels like an uphill battle. From the classroom to the workplace, we're fighting for our right to exist as we are.

I've written previously about the lack of planning and forethought that goes into disabled people's evacuation plans in active shooter drills. To quote Emily Ladau in a recent HuffPost article, "Their emergency plan was really to not have an emergency plan. It really made me feel like they couldn't be bothered to protect me, and it was very much every person for themselves."

And the "Run, Hide, Fight" protocol advised by federal agencies provides little solace to disabled people who are often not able to do any of the above. Instead, more often than not, we're advised to wait. Wait and hope that we make it out alive simply because protocols for us don't exist.

I think of the long-term mental health impact that has had on me. That from a young age, society at large considers me disposable.

Then there's the workplace. A newly released report by the U.S. Department of Labor and the Job Accommodation Network found that nearly half of workplace accommodations made for people with disabilities can be implemented at no cost to employers. Workplace accommodations are often simple and easy to implement, and yet so many of us struggle due to red tape; unnecessary requests for medical documentation, disclosure of our disability and limitations to people who have no business knowing, and an often misguided belief that an accommodation makes things "unfair" simply because we're trying to level the playing field.

Within the federal government, switching agencies is advertised as a fairly seamless process. Everything follows you: sick and annual leave balances, health insurance, and your position on the General Schedule pay scale. However, any documentation pertaining to reasonable accommodations does not, which means switching jobs comes with the exhausting task of starting from scratch.

We know what we need to be successful. The mental health of employees everywhere would be much improved if employers learned to say "yes" instead of "prove it."

So, what do these two experiences have in common? They both demonstrate the unfortunate reality that disabled people are often left behind, fighting for our survival in myriad ways. As we celebrate Mental Health Awareness Month, we must remember that the struggles faced by disabled people are directly linked to mental health.

To truly combat mental health stigma, we must first acknowledge the lived experiences of disabled people. It is essential to recognize that our battles are fought not only in the classrooms and workplaces but also in the broader social structures that often marginalize and dismiss our needs.

How AI Can Make Disabled People Stronger Advocates

Recently, a neighbor in my apartment complex became increasingly irate anytime Canine Companions® Pico and I would pass her door. She claimed his incidental shedding as we walked past was done intentionally, and she didn't appreciate his ruining her welcome mat, which she had placed in a public hallway. Her disdain became so pervasive she was unwilling to engage in civil discourse.

When I raised my concerns with the property manager, I was met with the suggestion that I relocate if we couldn't find a "peaceful solution." It was a frustrating and exhausting experience.

I went into advocacy mode. I knew the laws. I knew I could address the situation from the perspective of the ADA, housing laws, and even state fire codes. But I just didn't have the energy. I thought briefly about dropping the issue completely, but I knew that would be to my detriment as the situation was ongoing.

And then it came to me: AI is my friend.

I turned to AI to craft a letter to my leasing office, documenting our meeting, their response, and the concerns I still had. I worked with the AI in much the same way I would engage with a friend or colleague at first. Imagine explaining what happened to them over text. I didn't think about it too much. I simply documented what happened as best I could without being overly concerned with whether I was doing it "right."

As I progressed, I wanted something with a bit more force, something harder for management to dismiss. So I tweaked my approach. I asked the AI to cite relevant local laws that might strengthen my position. Almost instantly, I was presented with research pertaining to building safety, means of egress, and fire codes, as well as a bit of legal language.

No system is perfect, and I still did my due diligence in verifying the accuracy; nothing will ever replace the human element and the lived experiences that shape advocacy work. But I had a very strong foundation in record time. The hours and aggravation saved, the research placed right in front of me in the blink of an eye? I couldn't help but think of the old Mastercard commercial.

Comcast Internet: $50 a month

Subscription to ChatGPT-4: $20 a month

Energy saved as AI helps you advocate? Priceless.

AI is the ultimate life hack, and I can't wait to see what's next. This technology is here, and used wisely, can be the ultimate energy saver. Yes, it's only as good as its inputs and the questions we ask, but that is the very nature of the human brain too. When we ask better questions, we get better answers. By leveraging these technologies, disabled people can continue to do the advocacy that fuels us without feeling burnt out by the nitty-gritty. For those just starting on their advocacy journey, the playing field is instantly leveled. The question isn't "Should we be using this technology?" Rather, the focus should be on how.