I hate missing class; it stresses me out and I feel like I’ve missed out when I’m not sitting in a lecture when I’m supposed to be. Being the nerdy go-getter than I am, I rarely miss class and think long and hard before I do so. Unfortunately, absenteeism comes with the territory of having a disability. Those who have followed my blog over the past few years would know this but for those who haven’t, I have a traumatic brain injury. Since the age of 16, I have experienced all of the lovely perks that come with a brain injury including headaches, nausea, feeling off balance, blurred vision, floaters in my eyes, shaky hands, fatigue, etc. My symptoms have improved over the years but I still experience some daily. While I try my best to go to class/stay in class, sometimes it’s not possible.
Fortunately, I have accommodations through the university to be able to miss class and not be penalized. This was the first semester that I have been questioned and shamed for missing classes, despite having these accommodations. I have missed two classes this semester and left early once. I don’t miss any more school than the average student does but my absence becomes visible because I have to ask to use my accommodations.
I was really upset for being shamed for missing class but not for the reasons one might think. Sure, I get really annoyed having to constantly explain that I have a brain injury and accommodations multiple times throughout a semester but what really upset me was how much I wish I could have been in those classes.
I didn’t miss those classes or leave early because I wanted to. I would love to be able to wake up, attend all of my classes and do all the things I want to do without my brain injury getting in the way. I don’t really like the words “high functioning” but I know that I’m extremely fortunate; I’m doing way better than my testing and type of brain injury would suggest and post-secondary education is out of reach for many people with brain injuries similar to mine. It looked like it was going to be out of reach for me as well at during high school. Even compared to the average student without a brain injury, I do a lot; I do well in school, participate in extra-curricular activities, hold a job in the summer, co-organize a student group, volunteer outside of school and have a busy social life. Even though I am able to do all of these things, I’m not able to do everything that I want to because of my brain injury.
I missed a lot of school right after I acquired my brain injury. My high school graduation was delayed a year because I had missed so much school. For a few years, I only went to school for one class and took one through the home instruction program. Sometimes I was only able to stay in that one class for half an hour. I didn’t write any tests or exams, did no homework and had extensions for my assignments. It wasn’t until my fifth year of high school that I went back full time and completed all of the course work (except data management but come on, the side of my brain that controls math skills is damaged so cut me some slack). People have told me that I am lucky to have been able to miss so much school but it’s actually really sad to think about how much I missed out on when I look back. I wasn’t allowed to sit in the cafeteria, I wasn’t allowed to go to the library, I wasn’t allowed to walk myself to and from class and I had to fight to go to things like football games, school dances, etc. These things don’t make me lucky; the only thing about my brain injury that I would consider lucky is that one of the tears wasn’t closer to my brain stem. This is what drives me attend school as much as I can now that I’m able to.
With that being said, I have missed too much school. School is something that I love and I get very upset and annoyed when I’m unable to attend classes. Being able to be a full time university student is a really big accomplishment for a person with a brain injury and I’m very fortunate to be here. I want to be here and I want to be in class, especially since I’ve missed so much school in the past. I already feel awful when I’m unable to go to class or do other things that I love; it’s a reminder that I’m not a “normal” student. I don’t need to be shamed for this, I feel bad enough not being able to do the things I want to.
I try really hard to go to all of my classes, even when I’m not well, which means I leave at break sometimes. There are some days that I don’t ask to use my accommodations. I would rather lose the 1 or 2 percent participation grade if it means avoiding another awkward conversation where I have to disclose my disability yet again, explain what symptoms I’m having while my classmates stand a little too close for my comfort level to be having this conversation. People with brain injuries struggle with social interactions at times, to keep having to repeat this social situation doesn’t get any easier. While I’m quite open about having a brain injury, I still deserve privacy. No one in my class needs to know that I’m leaving because my vision is blurred.
I’m not leaving because I want to, I’m leaving because I have to. I have learned to listen to my body because if I don’t, I will be on the floor…literally.
Shaming me for not being present and drawing the entire class’ attention to my absence isn’t going to get me into a classroom. Students with disabilities become hyper visible in a large class where most students maintain their anonymity since we have to ask for accommodations. I can’t speak for all students with disabilities but as someone who has had to miss a lot of school, if I’m not present, it’s not by choice.
If you’re a professor or instructor, please know who your students with accommodations are and respect when they are unable to be in class. We are given the accommodation of being absent for a reason, not because we want to miss school. If you’re a student, please stop telling students with disabilities that they are lucky to be able to miss class.
If you are a student with a disability currently going through post-secondary education, it’s a rough ride but hang in there. We are defying the odds by being here.
Photo from: www.angelabrook.com