Look out Harvard, here I come

By Linda Chavez

Harvard, M.I.T., University of Chicago - I'm putting you on notice. I've decided to change careers. In the next several months, I'll be submitting applications for admission to your fine institutions.

I've always wanted to study science - physics, maybe, or astronomy. The only thing standing in my way to date has been those awful math courses most universities insist are prerequisites to earn a degree in a scientific field. But now I have a federal judge on my side, and under her ruling, you and your silly requirements won't be able to stop me.

According to U.S. District Judge Patti B. Saris, federal disabilities laws require universities to accommodate students like me, whose learning disabilities make it difficult for them to complete normal degree requirements. You see, I'm dyscalculic, which means I have trouble processing numbers.

I used to think I was just bad at math, but I know better now. I have a bona fide (if undiagnosed) learning disability: dyscalculia. Those C's and D's I earned in trigonometry and calculus years ago can't stop me from earning a degree in physics, astronomy, chemistry - or mathematics, for that matter, if that's what I want.

All I need now is someone to diagnose my problem. And last week, Saris made it a lot easier for enterprising would-be students like me to find someone to certify our disabilities.

The case was brought by 10 Boston University students who challenged university graduation requirements for certain math and language courses on the grounds that such requirements placed an unfair burden on students with learning disabilities.

The plaintiffs also charged that it was unlawful for the university to require students to produce a recent diagnosis of learning disability from a physician or psychologist in order qualify for special accommodations from the university, such as tutoring and extra time to complete tests and assignments.

In ruling for the plaintiffs, Saris said that such requirements were "high hurdles" that placed emotional and financial burdens on disabled students. She ordered the university henceforth to accept diagnoses of learning disability from any "professional" with a master's degree in education.

That suits me fine since it should make my quest to become an Ivy League-trained scientist a lot easier. There are approximately 96,000 people every year who earn master's degrees in education and another 7,000 who earn Ph.D.s It shouldn't be too hard to find one who will attest I'm intimidated by quadratic equations.

Once I get proper certification for my disability, I'll be able to take my college entrance exams at my leisure. No timed tests for me or any of the more than 21,000 other students yearly whose learning disabilities entitle them to extra time to complete the SATs and other entrance exams.

I may even be able to have someone else with me during the exam to help fill out the answer sheet if I can show that I have a tendency to mean one thing and write another when I'm under stress.

Once I'm admitted to the science department of some prestigious university, which should give me special consideration even if my test scores are lousy (what do you expect from someone with dyscalculia?), I should have smooth sailing ahead.

I'll be able to force the university of my choice to provide me with paid tutors and note takers, allow me extra time to complete assignments and tests, and, best of all, dispense with course requirements that are too difficult for me because of my disability.

Think I'm making this up? Not according to the Aug. 25 edition of New Republic magazine, whose cover story details the travesties of the learning disabilities scam in higher education.

The culprits are three federal laws, the 1973 Rehabilitation Act, the 1975 Individuals with Disabilities Education Act and the 1990 Americans with Disabilities Act.

Although the laws were originally intended to accommodate students and others with moderate to severe physical disabilities, they now justify all sorts of allowances for amorphous conditions, ranging from attention deficit disorder to dysgraphia (poor handwriting, in the disabilities lexicon).

Maybe some enterprising judge should just ban schools from giving tests or handing out grades altogether.

If we forbid recognizing ability in the first place, there would be no claim to special privileges on the basis of disability.