Access denied
As Oxford glides into its ultimate term, the sublime Trinity, students begin to emerge from cocoons of warm clothing and unsociable manners. Elegant ankles emerge in kitten heels, teetering on Oxford’s picturesque if highly impractical cobblestones; novelty bow ties suddenly assume an almost astronomical importance.
Trinity is the icing on the extremely dry and unpalatable cake that is Hilary; instead of the previous term’s sleet, Trinity is characterized by the tendency to become embarrassingly inebriated while it is still light outside. One would think that this would be a relatively uncomplicated term, students blissful in their own small form of Oxford hedonism. Which is why it is surprising that the student population complains so much.
In fact, compared to the majority of the world, Oxford students tend to be the biggest bunch of moaners on earth. From the annoying tute partner who always rushes to the library to check out all the books to that really sloppy housemate who eats only dried ham, students seem to think they have a monopoly on the complaint business. Sadly, our grumbles seem pathetically inconsequential when one starts to consider Oxford from a disabled point of view.
When the majority of Oxford students complain about the lack of University based facilities, their complaints center on the lack of a general student union, similar to the venue in which Oxford Brookes University holds Pleasuredome for example. Rarely does their grumbling concern their inability to enter Oxford libraries, colleges, and pubs. For the admittedly small handicapped population at the University, however, this is a very real and present problem.
If you are substantially physically disabled in any way, the ‘Essay Crisis’ is not an option, as the only way to access books and libraries is to phone ahead of time, and arrange for a librarian to bring books to you.
Darting into the Radcliffe Camera at nine thirty at night to photocopy a crucial article would be nearly impossible; attempting the cobblestones around the perimeter would be horrific enough for a wheelchair user, and the stairs wouldn’t be particularly conducive to disabled access either. Outside of the academic element of Oxford life, the social life is almost as inacessible.
If a wheelchair user was headed out to a club like Po Na Na’s, he would be in for a rude awakening, as the club is divided into multiple levels by several sets of stairs.
The lack of disabled access in Oxford is genuinely alarming, especially since it affects so few of the students at Oxford, and thus the majority of the student population is fairly unwilling to hold the University responsible for complying with recent legislation, such as the 1 September 2005 provision to the Special Educational Needs and Disability Act (2001), which requires Universities to make physical alterations to their buildings in order to ensure that the disabled are not discriminated against with regards to entering the building. For example, if a wheelchair bound person wished to enter the History Faculty Library, the first step would be to ring the porter ahead of time. After entering through Hertford College, he would then have to cross through the Hertford car park, which is occasionally full of cars, and be wheeled up a ramp to a door, which is only accessible from the inside of the History Faculty.
It would not be much of a stretch to state that this problematical ritual is slightly demeaning for the person in question; indeed, it seems to only emphasize their disability, rather than make adjustments for it. Once inside the History Faculty, there is no disabled toilet. Ian Bartle, the senior porter, puts the situation succinctly: “If someone was in a wheelchair, they would have great difficulty.
It is difficult not to argue that this is, if one takes the definition of discrimination from SENDA itself: ‘if a responsible body, for a reason which relates to his disability, it treats him less favourably than it treats or would treat others to whom that reason does not or would not apply’ that the endorsed handicapped entrance for the History Faculty seems to reek of discrimination, especially as one has to navigate through a car park.
Similarly, accessing the Radcliffe Camera and the Old Bodleian would be equally difficult, and the staff at the Old Bodleain seemed somewhat befuddled when asked where the disabled toilets were located. They concluded that the toilet, being upstairs, wasn’t particularly accessible. The situation amongst individual colleges is both better and worse than that of University buildings.
Most colleges are very willing to make reasonable changes to rooms for handicapped students, if they happen to enroll them. Many colleges, however, take an extremely reactive rather than proactive approach to the problem of equal access. This is indicated by the prevalence of non complete ‘sets’ of disabled facilities in colleges. Often, they will provide a disabled toilet and parking, but no disabled room, and vice versa.
Another problem is the frightening discrepancy between what the college officially offers in the way of handicapped provisions on the University of Oxford website, and what the college’s Accommodation Officer confirms as the actual number of adapted rooms. Corpus Christi College, in a table found in the University of Oxford’s online Colleges and Permanent Private Halls Summary of Accessibility Information, is listed as having one adapted room.
In reality however, the Accommodation Officer was quick to deny the existence of any handicapped accessible rooms: “Unfortunately, no.” Quite. Corpus Christi is not the only college to provide little in the way of handicapped provision, however; St. Edmund Hall, Trinity College, The Queen’s College, and Mansfield College each provide only one adapted room, according to the University of Oxford access guide.
Permanent Private Halls, such as Blackfriars and Campion Hall, do not provide any handicapped accessible rooms. It is important to note that the existence of adapted rooms, in many cases, is only a start. Many colleges do not provide handicapped accessible kitchens, and, with most colleges’ halls seated at the top of ceremonial and fairly superfluous stairs, simply eating with the members of your college is a challenge.
The Disabled Offices will arrange meals to be delivered to your room, but eating at formal hall is an essential experience of any undergraduate’s life, if only for the sconcing. Indeed, as working in many of the University libraries such as the Rad Cam is nearly impossible for disabled students, studying within your own college should be the rosy alternative.
Unfortunately, many college libraries, such as Wadham, which offers fairly complete handicapped assistance otherwise, lack disabled toilets in their library. It would appear, then, from a legal standpoint, the University of Oxford is treading on very thin ice in regards to SENDA: the Special Educational Needs and Disability Act (2001).
Under SENDA, it is unlawful for responsible bodies, such as Universities and Colleges, to treat a disabled person less favourably than a non-disabled person for a reason that relates to that person’s disability.
Within the actual text of the act, a startling incongruity emerges, however, that explains the University’s relative lack of adapted buildings and rooms; although the Act mandates that the responsible body for a school must take such steps as it is reasonable for it to have to take to ensure that in relation to education and associated services provided for, or offered to, pupils at the school by it, disabled pupils are not placed at a substantial disadvantage in comparison with pupils who are
ot disabled, the Act also maintains that this does not require the responsible body to remove or alter a physical feature. This allowance has thus allowed the University to retain its policy of bringing the facility to the student, rather than making its libraries and colleges accessible to all, regardless of their mobility difficulties. Although the University of Oxford’s Disability Office could not be reached for comment, people are generally warm about the attitudes of those who work there.
One source, who did not wish to be named, was very enthusiastic about the helpful staff: “The attitudes are extremely modern. It is the buildings which are archaic,” and was also quick to point out that one of the difficulties of Universiy wide access schemes is Oxford’s collegiate structure, which makes enforcing a universal disability scheme difficult. Indeed, certain colleges have monetary recourses that other colleges simply can’t compete with.
There is no ideal solution for either the University or its colleges. There is a very delicate balance between preserving the past, and respecting the needs of the present; the idea of ramps criss crossing the lawn of the Radcliffe Camera isn’t particulary asthetically pleasing, but neither is the idea of turning away the next Stephen Hawking.
Until the University of Oxford makes accesibilty to all of its buildings a priority, the future of less complicated routes for disabled students looks fairly glum. Certainly we can do better.
20th Apr 2006