Compassionate advocates can change lives

By Dylan Pichnarcik 

Associate Editor 

When I was young, I struggled in school. 

I can remember struggling during lessons at times when my classmates did not. It was frustrating and made going to school a challenge. 

It wasn’t until I was diagnosed with a visual impairment that my struggles started to come into focus. 

To combat this newfound challenge, I was given prescription glasses. Beyond wearing glasses - which I do to this day - my disability is entirely invisible. 

With this diagnosis, I gained access to accommodations through my school's special services department - something many students have access to, which allows them to succeed alongside their classmates. 

This should have been empowering. However, my school district’s application of these accommodations was at times not effective. 

My teachers sometimes disregarded these accommodations and even told my parents that I wasn’t going to go far in life or that I wouldn’t succeed based on my progress compared to my classmates. 

At a young age, I felt the touch of stigma at a formative time in my life - a time where all children should be nurtured, accepted, and heard. 

For me, this stigma was nuanced, primarily making asking for help anxiety-inducing, because I feared the responses of my teachers if I asked for the support I was entitled to. However, it also fostered a sense of hyper-independence, a trait I take pride in now - even if at times I need to remind myself it is OK to ask for help. 

These experiences do not account for my entire academic career before attending college. However, enough struggle transpired that I feel I was negatively impacted during this time in my life. 

Throughout my experiences - good and bad - there was always one thing that I could count on. 

As a part of my accommodations, I was assigned to meet weekly with a vision specialist who assisted students with visual impairments. Pamela Washburn - whom I still affectionately refer to as Miss Pam - was one of the most devoted educators I have ever come across. 

She was tremendously knowledgeable in the fields of assistive technology, advocacy, and instruction. 

However, among all the skills Miss Pam taught me. I hold one close to my heart. 

When systems fail, you adapt and do what you can for yourself to succeed.

By the time I moved on from elementary school, I was able to advocate for myself. At times when I was disregarded, I took matters into my own hands. 

If one of my teachers failed to print a handout in a reasonable font size, I photocopied it myself to meet my needs. 

There was even a point where I had access to one of the teachers' lounges, where I could access a photocopier. Needless to say, I got many sideways looks from other teachers who did not understand why I was in their private space.

If I were assigned a seat away from a whiteboard or projector, I would ask to be moved - which was a reasonable accommodation put forth by the special services team.

With some practice, I was able to advocate for myself when necessary, even if I was hesitant. 

These moments were uncomfortable, to say the least. I was forced to identify myself and face the stigma of being a student who struggled with a disability and had to identify when my needs were not met by my teachers. I tried my best to avoid this at all costs by doing what I could for myself. 

Students should not have to do this. 

Perhaps my experience was unique, but I'm inclined to believe many students struggled in silence, fearful of identifying themselves and anxious about asking for help. 

No child should feel this way. 

A classroom should be a place of acceptance and encouragement, regardless of ability. 

If a child has access to reasonable accommodations, provide them - discreetly. It is uncomfortable enough to live with a disability, and not everyone wishes to be open about it.  

When I find myself struggling to ask for help, I’m reminded of my experience with Miss Pam. I was fortunate to have her as an advocate in my corner for so many years. 

Tragically, she passed away before I graduated high school, but the lessons she taught me, the compassion she showed me, and the belief she had in my ability are something that I will carry forever. 

Education needs more Miss Pams.