My Experience With Inaccessibility on BC’s Campus

Written by Daisy Cuenca

At the end of September, my mom and three siblings came to visit Boston. Throughout their time here, I played the role of tour guide, taking them to the classic Boston Public Garden and Newbury Street. To finish off the weekend, I toured them around campus and finished with a stop at the bookstore. It was this experience that allowed me to recognize just how inaccessible and frankly inconvenient Boston College’s campus really is.

To preface, I want to acknowledge the privilege my family has in being able to adapt to BC’s campus. For context, my two youngest siblings are 1 and 3 years old and require a double-decker stroller. Luckily, my mom and I can simply pack up the stroller and face the never-ending stairs of BC with a baby on our hip each. I recognize that others may not have the ability to adapt so easily to what the environment demands. For that reason, it is important to highlight the ways in which BC’s campus is inaccessible, even looking past the typical example of the Million Dollar Stairs.

As my mom and I walked through campus, starting at Vanderslice Hall, I recognized that the first hurdle would be making it up to the main campus. There was no way we would be able to conquer the Million Dollar Stairs with a large stroller. Initially, I thought this would be the only inaccessible point. Once we made it onto main campus by taking the parking garage elevator, I realized I was wrong. I remembered the next hurdle to tackle would be the stairs leading to the Gasson walkway.

In a panic, I tried to workshop an accessible path from memory for my family. I did not want to leave my mom to find a path on her own on a campus she is not familiar with. Nor did I want her BC experience to be tainted by her having to constantly lug a stroller up a short but demanding flight of stairs. So, instead of being able to stand in the middle of the walkway, we were forced to navigate an alternate path to get past Gasson, and then again to get down to Stokes. These paths, however, are not ramps right next to the stairs that everyone uses. Instead, they are paths that quite literally push students off to the side. Because of this, my mom was unable to take in the beauty of campus like she initially planned to. She was unable to experience the walk I take to class every morning. She couldn’t take her classic Gasson photo from the main walkway, either. The experience ultimately left me frustrated and left my mom feeling guilty for something she should never have felt guilty for.

While BC does have alternative paths that do not contain stairs, their positions on campus inherently make people who cannot take the stairs feel like an afterthought, as well as separate from everyone else on campus. Even if these paths can be taken by choice, it is a fixed route for people who cannot take the stairs. Alternative paths are left for people to figure out on their own, only advertised by small signs on campus.

This effectively changed my experience of walking through campus, as I saw through the lens of my mom’s eyes. Apart from considering how the paths create separation on campus, I began to ponder how different people are impacted by BC’s layout. What happens to those who can’t simply pack up a stroller? Nobody should be forced to adjust themselves to an inaccessible campus. Needless to say, my mom’s experience of BC will be forever tainted by her inability to fully enjoy what the campus has to offer.