INTERPRETACIÓN DE LOS RESULTADOS
A VECES HABITUALMENTE SIEMPRE
5.4 Ejecución del Sistema de Auditoría Operativa
Although disability support personnel often facilitated the accommodations to disabled students (Erten, 2011; Mullins & Preyde, 2013), students frequently regarded the support and understanding of lecturers as an essential component in their academic success (Erten, 2011; Joshi, 2006; Scott, 2009; Wilson, Getzel, & Brown, 2000). Getting this support, however, was often not as straightforward as it might seem. Firstly, in some instances disabled students did not want to inform each individual lecturer of their needs. They therefore hoped that the disability support personnel of the university would transfer their relevant information to lecturers (Erten, 2011). In many instances this did not happen, because staff members wanted to protect the confidentiality of each student (Beauchamp-Pryor, 2013; Borland & James, 1999). So in these instances, unless the students disclosed to each one of their lecturers, teaching staff remained unaware that disabled students were attending their classes
91 (Beauchamp-Pryor, 2013; Borland & James, 1999; Crews & Keil, 2005; Dowrick et al., 2005; Fuller et al., 2004; Fuller et al., 2009b; Jacklin et al., 2006; McBroom, 1997; Redpath et al., 2013; Shevlin et al., 2004). This meant that, in order to get the required support, disabled students often had to disclose more than once, since they had to inform individual lecturers of their needs (Crews & Keil, 2005; Fuller et al., 2009b; McBroom, 1997; Scott, 2009; Shevlin et al., 2004; Swart & Greyling, 2011). Of course, this continual disclosures felt to be a “constant battle” for some students (Goode, 2007; Lightfoot & Gibson, 2005); a battle that some with more reserved personality traits were not willing to fight (Roberts et al., 2009).
However, even in instances where lecturers were aware of disabled students, the required support was not guaranteed. All too often there were variations in the responsiveness and practices between departments and from the one lecturer to the next (Beauchamp-Pryor, 2014; Borland & James, 1999; Brandt, 2011; Elliot & Wilson, 2008; Fuller et al., 2004; Hadjikakou & Hartas, 2008; Holloway, 2001; Hopkins, 2011; Jacklin et al., 2006; Madriaga, 2007; Magnus & Tøssebro, 2013; Mullins & Preyde, 2013; Riddell et al., 2005; Roberts, 2009; Swart & Greyling, 2011; Taylor, 2004; Tinklin & Hall, 1999). What is more, is that the same lecturer or tutor could vary in their responses over time (Hopkins, 2011; Shevlin et al., 2004). In other words, one tutor sometimes had an inclusive approach, only to revert to an old style of teaching later. The unwillingness of some lecturers to adapt teaching methods was related to various factors. Some of these included a fear of giving these students an unfair advantage over their nondisabled peers (Brandt, 2011; Lehmann et al., 2000; Mullins & Preyde, 2013; Vickerman & Blundell, 2010), suspicion regarding the validity of the disability (especially when it was unseen (Kitchin, 1998; Magnus & Tøssebro, 2013), a lack of prior experience in working with disabled students and lack of time (Erten, 2011; Hurst, 2009; Lehmann et al., 2000). It is thus clear that disabled students were still very dependent on the subjective
92 et al., 2007; Mullins & Preyde, 2013; Riddell et al., 2005; Shevlin et al., 2004; Tinklin & Hall, 1999). And, in instances where special arrangements were made, it often happened on an ad hoc basis; as the need arose (Fuller & Healey, 2009; Fuller et al., 2004; Hadjikakou & Hartas, 2008; Robson, 2004).
In many instances, students had to assert themselves continually and had to repeat their requests for accommodations (Elliot & Wilson, 2008; Goode, 2007; Holloway, 2001;
Hopkins, 2011; Reed & Curtis, 2012; Shevlin et al., 2004). For some students, this continued assertiveness provided them with a sense of control and power over their own lives (Riddell et al., 2005), while some even became activists for change (Goode, 2007). Unfortunately,
outweighing these benefits were the negative consequences of constantly reminding teaching staff of their needs. Firstly, other barriers sometimes left students so emotionally drained that they were unable to battle for their needs (Goode, 2007). For those who did “battle”, repeating their demands was experienced as stressful, frustrating, anxiety-provoking (Holloway, 2001; Hopkins, 2011; Madriaga, 2007) and even demeaning and shameful (Beauchamp-Pryor, 2012a). Renegotiating also sometimes took considerable time, detracting from time to study or participation in social activities (Elliot & Wilson, 2008; Jacklin et al., 2006). It, therefore, came as no surprise that some of these students came close to dropping out of a tertiary education institution (Goode, 2007) or that students left the university environment for one year (Hanafin et al., 2007).
3.3 Conclusion
Now, after the close examination of the lived experiences of disabled students, we are able to answer the question whether they are currently included in tertiary institutions. We saw that, while an inclusive commitment is evident through policy developments, the lived experiences of disabled students sometimes told a different story (Adams & Holland, 2006; Bell, 2013;
93 Beauchamp-Pryer, 2012a, 2013; Dowrick et al., 2005; Holloway, 2001). Individual needs were still met with ad hoc arrangements, variation existed in the level of support and a
seemingly disproportionate amount of responsibility rested on students in procuring necessary support. In addition, they had to choose tertiary institutions and courses in light of their disabilities, renegotiate family relationships, disclose their needs continually, initiate social interactions with peers and manage the physical environment. Even the measures intended to include disabled students, such as reasonable accommodations, marked them as “abnormal”, hereby excluding them.
Since the responsibility of inclusion often fell on disabled students themselves, there exists the very real concern regarding those students who do not have more forceful personalities. Some students might want to self-advocate, but might not have the necessary skills to do so (Lehmann et al., 2000; Taylor, 2004). Especially during their first year, students might not know how to get much needed support or whether they are illegible for accommodations (Borg, Maunder, Sharpling, & Abson, 2008; Cawthon, 2008; Nightingale, 2007). In these students‟ “falling through the cracks”, it is difficult to see an ethos of appreciation for the difference amongst students.
In the light of these lived realities, Beauchamp-Pryor (2012a) described the tertiary approach towards visually impaired students as “included, but not inclusive” (p. 181). In short, this meant that the growing number of disabled students in higher education did not necessarily imply wider participation once they were there (Beauchamp-Pryer, 2012a, 2013; FOTIM, 2011; Goodley, 2011). In fact, gaps between policy and practice still exist, leaving students without adequate support (Fuller et al., 2004; Madriaga, 2007; Riddell et al., 2005). These gaps extend the mere “unwillingness” of lecturers and rather points to a prevailing disablist society (Madriaga, 2007).
94 Of course, the accomplishments of inclusive education should not be overlooked or denied. After all, it led to policy development, greater numbers of disabled students accessing higher education and, most importantly, rethinking around how to include disabled students.
Despite great strides having been made in the inclusion of disabled students, much remains to be done (Bell, 2013; FOTIM, 2011). This research, with its focus on the experiences of visually impaired students, is an attempt to further this objective.
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