Answer:
Explanation:
The morning of my job interview brought excitement and anxiety. At the same time, I felt prepared and confident. It was the beginning of 2017 and already I had gone through three rounds of phone interviews, all rigorous, yet fair. This final interview would be our first face-to-face meeting. After passing through such an extensive interview process, backed by my impeccable credentials, I felt this meeting would be a formality.
A 14-year veteran New York City public school teacher, I was applying for a literacy coach position to train new teachers. The interviews had gone so well, I was certain a job offer would soon follow.
I met my interviewer for the first time at Starbucks. Soon after we started, I saw the sparkle leave her eyes. I noticed the fidgeting, a symptom of her sense of discomfort. Instead of asking about my pedagogical philosophy or leadership style, she asked me this: How am I able to get the students to listen to me?
The implication behind her question was clear: She didn’t think my students pay attention to me. Despite 14 years of exemplary performance evaluations, including high ratings for classroom management, somehow she believed my skills were wanting.
Later, I was informed that I was not selected for the position. After sailing through every stage of the application process, something had changed. Suddenly, she seemed to lose all enthusiasm for my candidacy.
What happened?
Disabled in a city not made for me
Meeting me for the first time, my interviewer saw a woman in a motorized wheelchair. She didn’t see a black woman. She didn’t even see a capable professional. What she saw was a disabled person.
I am a tenured, New York City teacher with a master’s degree in School Leadership from New York University. At my school, I held four leadership positions: English Department chair, testing coordinator, grade level chair and professional development committee member. The next step in my career would be educational administration.
I also have spinal muscular atrophy type II, a neural disease that occurs in 1 in every 6,000 children. It leads to decreased motor skills and deteriorating muscles. In 2008, I survived a risky surgery in which my spine was exposed, untwisted, and reinforced with titanium, possibly adding as many as 20 years to my life.
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Despite my professional qualifications, there have been some programs I am unable to take full advantage of because of a lack of disability access. I was accepted to the CUNY-NYC Leadership Academy Program for Future Middle School Principals. The program was extremely rigorous. The reality of living with a disability means that my physical needs had to be met before I could work toward any goal. I had to consider whether the “reasonable accommodations” that employers are required to provide under the 1990 Americans With Disabilities Act — certain protections are guaranteed by law — would allow me to participate.
Classes were held from 4 to 8 p.m. once a week in Queens. The journey from my school in the Bronx began right after work. In a society where the infrastructure is designed for able-bodied individuals, most people can’t conceptualize how challenging it can be for people with physical disabilities. A small thing we take for granted — going to the bathroom in a public place — can present a serious problem when there are no bathrooms that are wheelchair accessible.
Of course, if I had to use the bathroom during the school day, I couldn’t because I could not enter with my wheelchair. I had to wait until I got home to relieve myself. Under this program, I would not make it home until 10 pm. My doctor had warned me to consider the long-term impact of this schedule on my kidneys and overall health.
To further complicate the matter, the only wheelchair access to the building where the class was being held was on a side street that required me to pass through a parking lot. When I arrived at the door, I would have to wait for security to let me in.
Dayniah Manderson is a 38-year-old veteran public school educator and single mother. She served as Ms. Wheelchair New York 2017 and is an advocate for people with disabilities.