Last spring, I was accepted in the Pre-College Accelerated Learning Program at UW-Madison, a summer program designed for “academically talented” high school students. It was an honor to be accepted early as an incoming freshman in high school.

Termination 

A day before the class started, I was terminated from the program because UW-Madison was not comfortable with my disability. I was devastated after preparing all year for something that just got ripped away from me at the last minute. I never fully understood why UW-Madison excluded me. The day before classes started, the dean at UW asked me and my mother a whole bunch of ableist questions, such as how I went to the bathroom. It was very confusing because I go to the bathroom just like everyone else. I should not have to be drilled about how I go to the bathroom when nothing in my medical papers state that I have bathroom challenges. It’s ableist to assume I can’t use the bathroom, and it was shocking that a dean was actually asking such crazy questions.

A few different investigative reporters asked UW why they terminated me, and their response has always been exactly the same: “UW-Madison is committed to ensuring all students and families have access to youth summer programs.”

How does an organization like UW-Madison accept me on paper, but change their mind after they physically look at me? Is it 2024 or 1924?

Frustration 

Quite clearly, some students have more access than others. This makes me feel sad, frustrated, annoyed, and angry. When a commitment in a relationship fails, trust is broken. UW-Madison failed in their commitment to me, and they broke my trust. Instead of trying to fix that, they ignored me.

When organizations like UW-Madison say they value diversity, then dismiss someone like me from their program unfairly, it makes them look hypocritical. I am Black, and I am Indian. I am disabled. I am queer. All I wanted to do was go to school at UW-Madison over the summer.

Determination 

A commitment to diversity and equal access to education can’t just be a random whim. When UW-Madison terminated me, I had two choices. Either stand up for my rights or go away quietly, like UW-Madison probably hoped.

Defending yourself is definitely the more difficult option. The world is not made for people like us to stand up for ourselves. I don’t know why it’s so difficult. It really should not be so hard, especially when it’s so important to make sure horrible things don’t happen over and over again.

Being the first person to stand up against an injustice feels like a guinea pig experiment where everyone is watching your next move.

Organization 

This class I was enrolled in lasted 21 days. It was called “Art, Activism and Advertisements,” and it was supposed to “challenge systems of power.” I was supposed to live in the dorms to be around other like-minded kids. That didn’t happen. Instead, my mother and I ended up commuting two hours each day to sit outside the campus building where I was supposed to learn about Art and Activism. And guess what? Even though UW terminated me, I still learned something about art and activism. I also got a chance to challenge a system of power.

Soon after we began sitting outside, more students started joining us on the lawn. Then students from other parts of the country were reaching out to us on Instagram (@DisabledTeensMatter) to see how they can make sure their universities do not treat high school students the way UW-Madison treated me.

Legislation? 

The last week of our protest, we met with state law-makers to advocate for changes so this does not happen again. State-funded universities and colleges should not be allowed to discriminate against high school students with disabilities. What happened to me is a total injustice. And in the meantime, UW-Madison continues to believe they are committed to ensuring all students and families have access to their youth summer programs. Really? Because the view from here looks like UW-Madison is discriminating against people with disabilities.
Just saying.