In September 2025 my workplace accommodations request was denied. I requested open captioning for a Faculty Senate meeting that I attended in person. [Note: italics in this post indicate updates on this accommodations request].
I’ve been part deaf all my life and have had accommodations at my institution for the past 26 years. So why was my accommodations request for captioning of a faculty senate meeting denied? Had my deafness miraculously been cured recently? No.
What changed was the office responsible for workplace accommodations for faculty and staff was reorganized and merged into Human Resources (HR). HR decided that my documentation submitted when I started working there in 1999 was out of date and insufficient, making me ineligible for the accommodations that I’ve had in place.
Before describing different ways that the accommodations process is disabling and how these ways played out in my recent personal experience, I’ll summarize how the process generally works. First, the employee provides medical documentation that verifies the employee’s need for accommodation. Administrators and supervisors then use this information to decide reasonable accommodations for the employee. The ‘reasonable’ part of this draws from language within the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA). Once a reasonable accommodation is offered to the employee, the process is considered complete. The decision process is generally rigid and unidirectional with disabled employees excluded from the process. After describing the various ways that this traditional accommodations process is disabling, this post offers an alternative approach where supervisors and disabled employees collaborate to create more inclusive workspaces that benefit everyone.
Requesting accommodations is disabling because we need to establish that we are broken enough to need accommodations.
There is a lot to unpack with this issue of being ‘broken enough’. I will describe two elements. As academics we work in a culture that celebrates independence and valorizes perfection of our scholarship and research, which contributes to academic ableism (see Jay Dolmage’s excellent book). Admitting that you need help goes against the grain of this culture and our own internalized ableism can often be our biggest obstacle for requesting the accommodations we need to succeed.
A second element of this is that the problematic framing of ourselves as being broken and not the system as being impaired. One could consider that the reason I ask for workplace accommodations is not because my ears are broken but because the spoken English norms of my institution are disabling to me. For example, as someone fluent in American Sign Language (ASL) if I worked at an university where ASL is the default communication mode (E.g. National Technical Institute for the Deaf), I would not need accommodations. Are my ears more broken in one setting and less broken in another setting? No. The default spoken language communication setting of my institution is disabling to me. From my point of view, I’m asking for accommodations to fix the institution to be less disabling, not to fix me. For example, if all meetings had open captions, I wouldn’t need accommodations. But the process for having open captions for meetings that I want to attend requires that I prove that I’m broken enough to warrant these accommodations.
Requesting accommodations is disabling because the medical profession decides what we need but they don’t know our jobs.
The medical form asks my audiologist to describe my diagnosis, list the accommodations that I would benefit from, list alternative accommodations (I’m not even sure what this means – maybe cheaper options?) and describe if my condition is expected to be permanent or not. Audiologists (and other medical professionals) are not academics. They don’t know what tools/approaches I need to use to manage several groups of students simultaneously discussing team projects. They don’t know how frustrating faculty meetings can be when the department head shuts down the powerpoint presentation that had been showing real time captions and transitions to a free-wheeling discussion on the topic among 20 highly opinionated and vocal academics. The best approach for this medical form is for me to fill it out and have my audiologist sign off. This is why it is super important to have good relationship with your audiologist/doctor. They need to be someone who listens to you and does not try to fit your hearing needs into more common models of ‘hard of hearing student’ or ‘retired adult playing with grandkids’.
Requesting accommodations is disabling because HR staff who knows little about me, my disability or my job decides if the costs of my accommodations are worth the value that I bring to the institution.
The HR staff and my supervisor carry their own biases about disability, my potential and the way that the workplace should operate, often with their own preferences for minimal changes to the existing system and minimal costs. A request such as open captions for presentations doesn’t cost a lot, but it is a different way of presenting that many are not yet used to and may be resistant to trying something new.
Requesting accommodations is disabling because having to prove that we are deserving of accommodations assumes that we might get some unfair benefit.
If an employee asks for a change to the workplace but still gets the work done, why do we need a medical professional to validate their disability? Shouldn’t supervisors be seeking ways to support their employees in getting their jobs done more effectively? Furthermore, why would someone go through all the humiliation and hassle of requesting accommodations if the potential accommodation wasn’t going to help them in my job. Nobody likes filling out paperwork or having to prove that they deserve something.
Requestion accommodations is disabling because the rigid process does not invite dialog and problem solving.
In my 30 years of requesting accommodations in a wide range of situations within and outside of my home institution, rarely (less than 5 times) has anyone engaged me in a conversation about what would work best. Usually someone makes a decision about my accommodation without my input. They rarely offer any process to iterate or improve on the initial accommodations. For example, arriving at in person events I’ve often been offered zoom captions instead of open captions on the screen. This solution assumes that I brought my laptop to the event and requires that I focus on my laptop throughout the presentation instead of watching the speaker and the slides, which is much more engaging. In this case without my input or a way to iterate, I might as well have not attended the event in person.
Also consider someone with a new disability or someone moving into a new role at work. They might make a request based on their current knowledge and experience, but until they have experience with the new normal of their disability or in this new job role they can’t accurately anticipate what they need to succeed. A rigid and unidirectional accommodations process doesn’t allow for iteration and experimentation.
Requestion accommodations is disabling because institutions focus on ADA compliance and miss opportunities to support employee success.
The institution sets up the workplace accommodation process in order to comply with the ADA, not to serve employees. For example, the disabled employee community at my institution requested transparency about various accommodations currently offered to employees on our campus. No names, just a list of specific accommodations. For employees with new disabilities or new roles, this list could be very helpful. Administrators resist sharing this information even though increased transparency empowers employees.
When discussing workplace accommodations with able-bodied folks, they often express assurances that the ADA guarantees accommodations. Having a great law doesn’t not make the system fair. The ADA is only useful to me if I decide to sue my employer. It is true that if my accommodations request is denied after I submit the new paperwork, I could file an ADA-based complaint with my equal opportunity office (EOO). But also consider that the EOO office is there to protect the institution from lawsuits. This complaint would consume my time and energy and would yield humiliating meetings with supervisors about whether I truly deserve this accommodation. Every person I know who took this route, at my and other institutions, ended up leaving their job.
No wonder a lot of people, including myself, don’t bother going through the official channels to get workplace accommodations, even though they would benefit. When I need captions or a reconfiguration of the room, I often prefer to work directly with the people running the event rather than submit a formal workplace accommodations request. Or if I don’t know the people running the event, I just run my own captioning software on my laptop rather than go through the hassle of requesting that the event have captioning. But this misses the opportunity to have open captions that benefit everyone in the room.
In January I submitted my completed forms signed by my audiologist. I was told that the forms have been passed up the chain of command but haven’t not heard anything since.
What if the accommodations process were an ongoing dialog about how the institution can adopt more inclusive practices?
Disabled people are problem solvers – we have to solve problems every single day as we navigate this world. Our lived experiences reveal vulnerabilities in the system – places where innovation can transform how we work. Modifications to how we do our work, such as open captioning of entire faculty meetings, not just benefit me because I asked for it but also benefit my colleagues who were distracted and are getting caught up with the discussion and benefit my older colleagues who don’t want to admit that they are losing their hearing. By changing the norms of our workplace, we could move towards universal design of inclusive workplaces rather that accommodations that are retrofits for each individual. The current accommodations process stifles both disabled people’s creative problem-solving and our voice in shaping our workplace. Disabled employees should be leading the accommodations conversation and not put in the place of supplicants to a rigid and disabling process.
Thank you for sharing this. Your post clearly shows how the accommodations process can create barriers instead of removing them.
I was especially struck by your point about needing to prove you are “broken enough.” That idea highlights a deep problem in how institutions approach accessibility. You shift the focus in an important way by showing that it is often the environment, not the person, that creates the barrier.
Your examples make the issue very real. The 12 day deadline, the reliance on medical professionals who do not understand the workplace, and the lack of dialogue all show how rigid the process can be. It is clear how these systems can exclude the very people they are meant to support.
I also appreciate your emphasis on collaboration and universal design. The idea that changes like open captions benefit many people, not just one individual, is powerful. It shifts accessibility from a compliance task to a shared responsibility that improves the experience for everyone.
Your call for ongoing dialogue stands out to me. It raises an important question. What would it look like if institutions trusted disabled employees as experts in their own needs and worked with them as partners?
Thank you again for sharing your experience and perspective. It offers a strong case for rethinking how we approach accommodations and moving toward more inclusive practices.