Trent University’s infrastructure is not accessible. It was not built to accommodate disabled people and it has failed to adapt, both physically and philosophically, beyond the state of its conception. Throughout the years, compassionate administrators have tried to remedy some of the blatant shortcomings, but these efforts are often few and far between. 

Instructor Derek Newman-Stille (they/them), disability activist and a member of Trent’s  Canadian Studies department, was kind enough to show me around Trent’s Symons campus to highlight for Arthur some of the areas where accessibility is lacking. 

They explained to me that, at Trent, people with disabilities are  “treated as a surprise.” 

According to Instructor Newman-Stille, the lack of accessible infrastructure sends an implicit message to disabled people at Trent: “We’re told we don’t belong here.”

This phenomenon is not unique to Trent. Almost every building built prior to the adoption of the Accessibility for Ontarians with Disability Act in 2005 treated people with disabilities as an anomaly unworthy of “accommodations.” 

Even now accessibility mandates provide only a set of minimum requirements, and corners continue to be cut (sometimes literally). 

Trent’s infrastructure, however, often fails to meet even these low expectations. 

The inclusion of braille translations on classrooms and wayfinding signs, for instance, is only a relatively new inclusion. The West bank of campus is so twisty and narrow that those with mobility aids can hardly navigate the corners. Accessible housing on Trent’s Symons campus is only offered in East Bank’s Gzowski College, whose elevators’ function can be described as “sporadic” at even the best of times.

Let’s put it plainly: the elevators on campus are bad. 

Sometimes the elevators on campus are even littered with actual trash. Beyond many elevators being slow and small enough to limit the kinds of mobility aids that can be used, somehow it is not a foreign concept for people to often leave trash in elevators as sometimes happens to the elevator in Wenjack. 

Said elevator now also sports a “DO NOT block off this door!!” sign, after repeated instances in which the elevator had chairs and other furniture stacked in front of it, sealing off access. These are perfect examples of attitudinal barriers.

Newman-Stille spoke frequently to me of such “attitudinal barriers” around disability as they showed me around campus. 

These are barriers that extend beyond the physical limitations, beyond ramps, stairs, and blue parking spots. Attitudinal barriers are barriers put in place often through sheer ignorance. Empty chairs pulled out in cafeterias which prevent people from passing through, or the small seminar rooms which don’t allow access to anyone using a mobility aid. 

Powered doors are shut down at Trent with a worryingly common frequency, and often for the most absurd reasons, ranging from making entrances “too cold”, or because the doors are “wasting power,” One of the most malicious reasons given was the claim that powered doors  were “too loud.” 

These petty assaults on people with disabilities are disappointingly common, going beyond the anecdotal so as to become commonplace. 

The effects of all these oversights and failures have a quantitative effect on the wellbeing of all those affected. It’s not just a simple inconvenience, to be shrugged off and ignored. The lack of care for accessibility can cause genuine harm. 

Take for example, the ramp down to the LEC dining hall, which is narrow, and whose upper part ends in a cement wall, requiring a 90 degree turn on a dime. If you look at the baseboard, it is scored with scratches from wheelchairs that had to squeeze their way down, and the handrail is so pressed in that it ends up receiving more knuckles than hands. 

In many cases, all the backtracking and meandering routes on campus have an unforeseen impact on physical health. 

The extra exertion doesn’t only tire, but can also cause undue pain. Bricked paths, flagstones, and other grooved surfaces which cover Trent’s walkways can cause a tremoring bounce which translates into shaking anyone relying on any wheeled support. 

The compounding effects of common infrastructure on people with disabilities can be hard to see for those outside of their community. That’s why it’s so important that any future capital projects, as well as renovations of our current campus, be designed (and re-designed) with a mind to accommodate them. 

As an able-bodied person,, I would have never known about how grooved flooring can hinder wheeled travel. I would have never noticed how most of the accessibility routes on campus are tucked away in corners as apparent afterthoughts that treat people with disabilities like an “other.”

Put quite simply, our campus’ layout doesn’t care about—let alone prioritize or assist—disabled people in any meaningful way. 

One of the most poignant moments for me during my tour with Instructor Newman-Stille was when we went over the bridge and onto East campus, and they pointed out the ramp at the immediate foot of the bridge was for vehicles, not for accessibility, and that the accessible ramp was tucked against the far wall nearest the Science Centre. I had trod across that ramp a thousand times, but I had never noticed that inconspicuously tucked against the wall was the route for people. 

No matter the engineering explanation you could give, in this case, Trent explicitly prioritized Golf carts and John Deere Gators™ over people.

The othering of disabled people—our fellow students, professors, admins, and any other who come to our university—bleeds into the social realm. 

Many lounge areas are inaccessible to anyone with mobility aids. The K House lounge in Otonabee is totally inaccessible. The Sr. Common room in LEC is inaccessible. The common area above the Seasoned Spoon in Champlain is inaccessible. 

I mean fuck, almost all of the housing on campus is inaccessible. In some scenarios, accessible housing has even been removed to make way for offices, as is the case in Lady Eaton —which are themselves not necessarily accessible!

While yes, there have been workarounds to inaccessible campus office space in Zoom and other virtual meeting software, I for one know that I would have not been able to build the relationships I have with my professors and get the help I needed over a glitchy 144p Skype session, let alone over email correspondence.

The lack of broadly accessible housing can inadvertently hinder budding relationships. How many of us have fond memories of afternoons and evenings spent crammed in a friend’s dorm room? Now imagine the difficulty of having a friend in a wheelchair over for movie night in LEC.

The lack of accessibility can directly impact the social life of someone with a disability. It implicitly keeps them out of certain spaces, and bars them from making certain friends.

These are just some of the issues that the disabled community on campus are left to deal with, and this list is entirely non-exhaustive. I myself could never cover every failure, nor do I really think it’s my position to do so.

If I could point out just one thing to  incoming Trent students, however, it should be noted that on top of every other grievance I’ve listed, there is rarely—if ever—sufficient accessibility signage. This leaves anyone who requires these accessible routes guessing and lost. 

In many ways, it’s symbolic of how disabled people are ignored without even a thought by our indifferent administration. 

The issues of our campus are emblematic of the society in which we live, that ignores the lives of disabled people, and that sigh every time they are forced to make any effort to acknowledge their presence. 

Once when passing through a maze-like passage in Champlain, Instructor Newman-Stille said something that I thought perfectly summarized accessibility on campus “Notice how there are no signs for routes? That makes sense, because none of this is accessible.” 

Trent has recently secured 3 Million dollars for renovations relating to accessibility on campus, which it sorely needs. As of writing this article, Trent’s communication department has not provided data regarding the current braille signage, nor whether they plan on offering accessible housing in the upcoming Gidigaa Migizi college.