It’s not every day you a wake up to find a wheeled device inviting you to take a seat on its plush yet somehow still uncomfortable cushion. On February 3, instead of walking, I rolled to every major building on Tarleton State University’s campus in a borrowed wheelchair. I was in search of something that many two legged students seem to look right past – accessibility. My goal was to find out how accessible campus is for students that are bound to a chair. I wanted to truly grasp what they go through on a daily basis and with my new four-wheeled friend, I did.

Beginning the morning early, I quickly came to realize if you’re not in a deluxe motorized chair or have a vehicle with handicap accommodations, your idea of early isn’t early enough. It took five minutes to get from the student center to the math building, normally just a 60-second walk. During that time I had to maneuver my way across the faculty parking lot (I thought it would be quicker than taking the side walk all the way around; I was wrong). I didn’t sign up to go off-roading, but I guess my ego and my four-wheeled friend had other plans. It was difficult for me to operate my chair through some of the cracks and inclines across the lot, and when I finally made it to my first class I knew this was going to be a long day.

After class I decided to go for a more logical route and take the sidewalk from Math 112 to the student center. Near the road between the fine arts building and student center I found a slope that made my trek rewarding. Unfortunately, for every slope there is an incline. Everyone knows the walkway to the student center has a pretty hefty inclination but in a wheelchair I felt like I was rolling up a hill with my breaks on. By the time I got to the Tarleton seal I could feel the burn in my arms. As I turned to go up the ramp of the student center, I added a few bricks to my already locked breaks. Ramps are for convenience – not for a surprise workout. Finally making it to the door, a kind fellow held it open for me, even though I had already pushed the handicap button. What can I say? Tarleton men are gentlemen.

As I rolled my way into the building I was greeted by one of my girlfriends and a thousand eyes. It felt like I just walked into a room filled will judgment and giants. All I could think was that I chose to be in this chair – I wasn’t forced into it. I began to ask myself if I, too, glare with judgment. However, through the cloud of judging eyes shined many kind-hearted people genuinely concerned and willing to render aid though they had no idea why I was in a wheelchair. To them, I say thank you.

Leaving even earlier than I did for class this morning, I began my trek to the business building. As I come down another slope I hit the mountain of all inclines. Many students know this road as the street that runs alongside the nursing building, science building and student center. After today, I know it as Mount Vanderbilt. As I forced myself forward a couple of feet at a time, I attempted to embody the little engine that could. I felt like the whole football team was against me in a game of tug of war and I definitely wasn’t winning. By the time I reached Traditions Hall, everything in me screamed to just stand up and walk away. But I couldn’t do that – I wouldn’t give up that easily.

With this new resolve, I made it to the peak of the mountain: Wisdom Gym.  It was difficult for me to enter the gym on the backside facing the nursing building because there was no handicap button available on the outside, but eventually I made it inside and enjoyed a short reprieve from my own body heat as I cut through the air-conditioned building.

Next, I rolled across the parking lot between the business building and Wisdom Gym and found it less rigorous than the faculty parking lot. I soon found myself forced to choose between two ramps, both of which seemed equally far way. I decided on the one closest to the engineering building, but as I rolled toward my goal I once again found myself crossing uneven terrain and rolled right into oncoming traffic. I immediately regretted my decision – picking this ramp meant the many vehicles rounding the corner turn near the tennis courts couldn’t see me. After finally making it across the street and through the handicap doors of the business building, I entered my class drained.

Sitting in class, a thought occurred to me – surely there must be some sort of map Tarleton provides that shows every handicap door, ramp and elevator across campus. After class I began another journey to the Welcome Center. I would say it was a hop, skip, and a jump away, but who am I kidding? I’m a ride or die kind of gal and it was either reel myself all the way across campus or give up and walk. When I reached the Welcome Center after rolling across construction zones and more evil inclines I found myself having to manually push open the front door without getting my wheelchair stuck or falling out. It made me sad to know that the first impression an incoming handicapped student might have of Tarleton’s campus would include an unfriendly door.

Isabel Briseno, a Texan Tour guide, kindly informed me that on tours, the center accommodates handicapped students in various ways, giving them the option to take a cart or allowing their parents to wheel them around campus. However, there was no map showing the handicap accessibilities on campus.

I was on a mission to find this elusive map (I was certain it must exist) so I stopped by the housing office and disabilities office, neither of which had what I was looking for. I even rolled to the agriculture building on a whim, but they, too, had no map. I did find it odd, however, that I had to go to room 101 in the ag building to gain access to the handicap elevator. It was like they didn’t trust me enough to let myself in and out of the elevator. The controls aren’t even accessible from the inside – someone one has to stand at the top of the stairs to elevate you down. That’s just like saying you can’t use the stairs unless you ask to.

Feeling a little discouraged, judged and exhausted I decided to see if the Rec Center accommodated students in wheelchairs. As I rolled in I was introduced to Robert Nimmo, Director of Rec Sports, who immediately began to inform me about workout equipment that would fit my needs. He had me almost set up with a personal trainer and a meeting for Thursday before I could get a word in. His hospitality made me completely forget how tired and frustrated I was.

After a long day of burning arms, a numb butt and sore hands, I’ve learned that from my perspective the only problem with Tarleton is its parking, but for someone who’s bound to a wheelchair, Tarleton has some work to do. As our campus grows I hope we keep our fellow colleagues in mind when building a new facility, and design a friendly handicap-accessible map for campus. And while we’re at it, maybe we can all become a little more like Nimmo and Briseno.