Disabled Students in Higher Education: Rights on Paper, Barriers on Ground

For 100% visually impaired students, the struggle can extend from entering-- the campus to accessing study material, finding a scribe and securing employment.

Disabled Students in Higher Education: Rights on Paper, Barriers on Ground
Author.

By Brij Bhushan Goyal- A Social Activist 

India has a strong legal and policy framework for ensuring that persons with disabilities receive equal opportunities in education. The Rights of Persons with Disabilities Act, 2016 requires educational institutions to make their campuses accessible, provide reasonable accommodation and necessary support, and ensure that students who are blind or deaf and other disabled should receive education through appropriate modes and means of communication. The University Grants Commission has also emphasized that accessibility in higher education must extend from admission to completion of the course. Yet for many students with disabilities, particularly those who are 100 per cent visually impaired, the reality inside colleges and universities remains very different. The problem is no longer the absence of laws; it is the distance between rights promised on paper and support experienced on the ground.

For a completely blind student, the challenge begins not in the classroom but at the institutional gate. Finding the right entrance, locating an office, reaching a particular department, negotiating corridors, staircases or unfamiliar buildings, finding a washroom or identifying a classroom may require assistance every day. A campus may have a ramp and proudly describe itself as accessible, but physical accessibility for a blind student is about much more than ramps. It includes safe and predictable pathways, tactile guidance, audible or clearly accessible information, identifiable rooms, accessible websites, signage that works for screen readers and staff who understand how to provide assistance without treating the student as helpless. Accessibility must mean independent access, not permanent dependence on another person.

The second barrier is the classroom itself. A teacher may distribute a printed handout, write extensively on the board, refer to a diagram, show a presentation or circulate a PDF after class. For a sighted student, these may be routine academic resources. For a blind student, each can become a barrier. A PDF that is merely scanned as an image may be unreadable through screen-reading software. A chart, graph or diagram may have no alternative description. A teacher may say, “The material is on the portal,” without checking whether the material is actually accessible. The result is a peculiar form of exclusion: the student is formally present in class but is denied timely access to the same learning material as classmates.

This is why accessible digital content must become a basic academic obligation, not a favor. Teachers and institutions should provide course material in accessible formats—properly structured documents, readable PDFs, text alternatives for images and timely audio or other accessible explanations wherever necessary. UGC itself has recognized the importance of accessibility mechanisms in higher education, while its own website demonstrates the use of screen-reader accessibility for people with visual impairments. If digital learning is now central to higher education, digital accessibility must be treated as part of academic infrastructure.

Another neglected issue is the absence of Braille and assistive learning resources at the college and university level. School education often receives greater attention when specialized resources are discussed, but visually impaired students do not stop needing accessible learning material when they enter college. Higher education brings more complex textbooks, specialized terminology, research papers, statistical material, diagrams, laboratory instructions and discipline-specific resources. Depending entirely on classmates, family members or occasional volunteers to convert material into an accessible form is neither dignified nor sustainable. Every serious higher educational institution should have access to a properly equipped disability resource center, with Braille and tactile resources where required, scanners and OCR facilities, accessible digital libraries, screen-reading technology and trained personnel capable of converting academic material into usable formats.

But perhaps the most painful barrier appears during examinations

A visually impaired student may study independently for months and then discover that the final test of academic ability depends upon whether a suitable scribe can be found. The problem is not merely getting “a writer”. A scribe must be capable of accurately recording what the student dictates without influencing the answer, while understanding the pace and requirements of the examination. A poor or inexperienced scribe can turn knowledge into marks lost.

This is an unacceptable situation

The Union government has already recognized the importance of scribes and compensatory time. The Department of Empowerment of Persons with Disabilities states that Section 17 of the RPWD Act provides for suitable modifications in examination systems, including a scribe or assistance and additional time. Its guidelines have also evolved to recognize that the need for a scribe depends upon a person's ability to write, and not merely on crossing a particular percentage threshold. Yet the practical question remains: Who will provide the scribe?

Most colleges do not maintain a trained, dependable pool of scribes. Students and their families are often left to search for one shortly before an examination. Sometimes a friend or student is arranged; sometimes a stranger. The disabled candidate then carries an additional anxiety that other students never experience: Will the person who writes for me understand what I say? Will the handwriting be legible? Will the scribe reach on time? Will the examination authorities accept the arrangement?

There should be no such uncertainty

Universities and affiliated colleges should create institutional scribe pools, properly trained and verified, from which students can choose according to their needs and subject requirements. A student should also retain the right to bring a suitable scribe of choice, as permitted under applicable guidelines. The system should provide a mechanism for advance interaction between candidate and scribe, confidentiality, orientation and accountability. The Department of Empowerment of Persons with Disabilities already recognizes the candidate's ability to use a scribe and has issued detailed examination guidelines. What is required now is reliable implementation at the institutional level.

There is another contradiction that deserves attention. We celebrate when a student with disability enters a prestigious university, completes a degree or clears a competitive examination. But what happens after graduation?

A student may leave college with a degree but without adequate career guidance, internship opportunities, employment counselling or exposure to accessible workplaces. The institution may consider its responsibility finished when the degree is awarded. It should not be. The earlier UGC framework for enabling units envisaged counselling, awareness, assistance and support for students with disabilities, including help in obtaining employment.

Higher education must therefore move from a charity model to an empowerment model. A visually impaired student does not need sympathy; he or she needs an environment in which ability can be exercised without unnecessary barriers. The difference is fundamental.

Every university and college should therefore have a properly functioning Equal Opportunity Cell or Disability Resource Centre, with a designated and accountable officer, adequate budget and trained staff. Its performance should not be measured merely by whether a committee exists or a notice has been displayed. It should be measured by outcomes: How quickly are accessible materials supplied? How many students receive support? Are examination arrangements made without last-minute uncertainty? Are grievances resolved? Are digital resources accessible? How many students receive internships, career counselling and employment support?

Most importantly, students with disabilities themselves must be part of evaluating the system. Nothing about accessibility should be assessed without listening to those who experience inaccessibility every day.

India has moved a long way in recognizing the rights of persons with disabilities. The next step is harder: making institutions change their everyday behavior. UGC's own accessibility initiative envisages an effective mechanism covering the entire educational journey. That means accessibility cannot begin at the examination hall and cannot end with the award of a degree.

A truly inclusive institution is not one where a disabled student is merely allowed to enter. It is one where the student can enter independently, reach the classroom, receive the same learning material, participate in academic life, take examinations with dignity, use institutional facilities without dependence, pursue internships and leave with a genuine opportunity to build a career.

The test of inclusive higher education is therefore not whether a student with disability has been admitted. The real test is whether the institution has removed the barriers that make that admission meaningful only on paper.

And that is where India still has a long way to go .

(Views are personal)