• Author A identifies as nonbinary (pronouns: they/she) and is part of the LGBT+ community, identifying as bisexual, and is a graduate student, pursuing both a master's in physics and PhD in physics education research. They contribute a unique perspective from the intersection of two under-documented demographics, the gender-nonbinary and disabled communities. Their interest in bettering these demographics in physics compelled them to engage in the C2C group and participate in this project, where their lived experiences provided insight in addressing the current dynamics of physics education and imagining what it could be with more inclusivity. They are also currently pursuing graduate research that will lead to a more accessible and inclusive physics culture for students from marginalized demographics. • Author B is a current PhD student in the astrophysics program and brings his own perspective of being a deaf, transmasc, mixed race, disabled student to understanding what it is like to be a student in an ableist physics field. Growing up in a different environment (of being raised by his grandparents after being in an unstable home) brought a different outlook about how to ask for help and understanding how classism affects people's ability to succeed in the field. He wants to help others understand the difficulty of being understood as a deaf, transmasc student with chronic pain and a plethora of mental health issues that directly affect how he communicates with others. He hopes that sharing his perspective will help future students in similar backgrounds feel like they have a better chance of being understood and successful. • Author C is a neurodivergent undergraduate physics and astronomy student who lives with an adult-onset nervous system disorder. She identifies as a queer, white, and Hispanic/Latina. From prior research experience studying far-right extremism in the United States, she comes to this research with the belief that equitable access to highquality, individualized education is crucial to improving our education system as a whole. • Author D is a third-year student. He is pursuing a degree in physics and biomedical engineering. As a researcher with Asperger's syndrome, he understands some of the challenges physics students with disabilities face. His personal experience navigating different academic settings has shown him the importance of a more inclusive learning environment. He is passionate about researching ways to advocate for better support and accessibility for all students with disabilities in and out of STEM, while also recognizing that everyone's experiences and situations are unique • Author E is a senior undergraduate physics student. His contributions are shaped by his current and past experience as a neurodivergent physics student with attentiondeficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), which has informed both his approach to learning and his understanding of the challenges faced by students with disabilities. He aims to highlight how his experiences intersect with broader themes of inclusion and accessibility across postsecondary physics education.
In this section, four students discuss how rigid institutional structures can disproportionately disadvantage disabled students. The unpredictable nature of certain disabilities, the exhaustion brought on by long working hours, and the way inflexible course requirements intensify stress, ultimately exacerbate difficulties inherent to a system that is often mismatched to the students who participate in the system.
Predictability and Reliability (Author C)
The design of STEM education itself is dehumanizing [2,3]; it assumes that every student will have the same capacity to work every day. While that can be more consistent for able-bodied students, we can all relate to issues like mental burnout, difficulties in relationships, unexpected family or personal emergencies, or even not getting enough sleep. All of these things can impact the consistency of work capacity. For some disabled people, their disability can also have an impact on work capacity.
For me (Author C), my body itself adds a whole other level of unpredictability. Postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome (POTS) looks a bit different for every person that has it [4]. In my case, I can be close to able-bodied one day and unable to sit up the next day. I also get migraines as a symptom of my POTS, which are entirely debilitating. Sometimes I am able to tell what triggers these flare ups, sometimes there seems to be no rhyme or reason to it. What I do know is that stress can be a contributor to flare ups, which can be brought on because of academic pressures such as tests or large assignments.
In classes where a large portion of the grade depends on my performance on a test, for example, instructors are actually evaluating the state of my physical condition on one day rather than my knowledge of the material. I have learned to live with my illness as there is currently no cure, so I usually work ahead on my better days to lighten my load on my worse days. With test dates that are one scheduled time, it is not possible for me to use this strategy to put forth my best work.
Instructors could better support students facing similar challenges by offering alternative assessment methods, such as take-home exams or flexible testing windows, which accommodate fluctuations in physical and mental health. Additionally, fostering open communication and proactively implementing universal design for learning principles would help create a more inclusive and equitable academic environment that recognizes the diverse needs of all students.
Long Working Hours (Author E)
The current state of physics education places significant demands on students' time and energy. To stay on track for graduation, I am expected to enroll in an average of 15 credit hours per semester. Most upper level physics courses tend to be 3 credits. Furthermore, students are also expected to actively participate in research projects, a critical requirement for remaining competitive in the pursuit of graduate school opportunities. Being a student with attentiondeficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) in college has been very difficult for me. With most ADHD medications only lasting around 8 hours [5], it is hard to find motivation and live a properly balanced life the rest of the day. ADHD medication also comes with side effects such as heightened heart rate, sleeplessness, lack of appetite, and many more which makes taking medication to extend the 8 hours difficult from a health standpoint [6]. With this limitation, balancing multiple projects, homework assignments, family and social responsibilities as a whole is very challenging and can lead to severe burnout. In my experience, instructors can effectively help support students like myself in several ways. Allowing students to integrate their research experience with coursework for class projects is particularly helpful. Additionally, providing access to lecture notes and supplementary materials enhances flexibility which facilitates better time management.
With my ADHD, I (Author C) have extreme difficulties paying attention to lectures, so I often have to replay a lecture a few times over to process the information, let alone write it down. In most traditional classes, a lecture period is the only opportunity that a student will have to hear content verbally and ask questions, putting neurodiverse students behind if they are not able to process and record information like their neurotypical counterparts.
I have spent sixteen years coping with this illness with no diagnosis or accommodations, and I have learned that note-taking is not a helpful way for me to learn. I know that studies have shown that it is widely beneficial to most people [7,8], but my brain does not work like this. Taking notes for me takes up the majority of my study time, but I gain so little that it feels like note-taking is more of a hindrance to me than anything [9]. I struggle without notes, so I have to make the choice between taking notes and trying to get by without them (the latter being preferable).
My psychologist has made an official recommendation for me to receive written notes for my classes, which my school took multiple months to accommodate with little communication. Many professors have already begun providing lecture notes and/or class recordings which has been immensely helpful. Providing curated resources for students to use outside of the classroom, even if it is not developed by the professor themselves, could help alleviate these pressures.
Chronic illnesses take up a lot more time than able bodied people are aware of [10]. Chronic illnesses can bring on fatigue because your body is working in overdrive to deal with health issues [10]. They can range from autoimmune to chronic pain. Basically, if your body is struggling, you are going to be constantly tired. Medicine can help to stave off some of this but if the symptoms of such illness aren't managed well, fatigue will continue to happen. People with these illnesses fight battles which are unnoticed to most. This invisibility becomes problematic in the physics field because there are deadlines with homework, exams, presentations, papers, research, etc. and their symptoms on top of fatigue can make it much more difficult to keep up. Time never stops. Basically, for most abled people, they can rest when they can, and it helps to prevent a burn out to a certain point, which is difficult for them as is. For disabled folks, they never truly get a break or rest. Because of this, they never truly have the same amount of time as their abled counterparts to do the same assignments.
The tiredness never goes away so having breaks is very important. However, trying to integrate that into a busy schedule (especially with research in grad school) can be extremely difficult, especially with professors that just don't understand this. Having a mixture of disabilities really takes a toll on you, and it is truly frustrating when people don't acknowledge this or try to understand. In higher education, there is this mentality that everyone is tired and therefore that this is normal. Chronic illnesses in general aren't usually readily visible so abled people do not understand the toll of being in a constant state of illness, whether it be pain, autoimmune, mental health, cancer, physical, etc. It never stops so they do not understand that we don't always know when we can truly rest so we do need additional time. As someone with chronic migraines (chronic migraines cause neurological symptoms combined with chronic pain) with a plethora of mental health issues as well as dealing with deaf fatigue (being stuck in the hearing world as a deaf person is exhausting due to working overtime in fitting in), I can relate to chronic fatigue and not being believed because it isn't visible.
Most physics professors believe in taking breaks over the weekend, which most people do. However, for those with fatigue, weekends aren't enough-essentially, you are dealing with a hangover from all of the strain your body has endured. You don't really get any rest. Some people expect one to go home after 5 pm on weekdays. However, that doesn't quite work for others because for one, it could take you longer to get the work done, and two, if you're under pain, exhaustion, difficulty concentrating, etc…, you can't really get any work done. Because of this, you would want to get any work you can get done while you feel a little bit better. What we would expect from professors is to have them work with us, to figure out the schedule that could work out, and to be flexible. I realize that there are hard deadlines, such as proposals, fellowships, conferences, etc, and that you can't really be flexible. I believe that you could create a structure of some sort, where you meet your professor halfway (they need to meet you halfway, this shouldn't be all on you). I think if professors make students feel like they're heard and that they are willing to create a sort of schedule with flexibility in mind, the students will feel more motivated to get their work done. Remember that those in these physics fields want to be here.
In this section, two students discuss how negative societal perceptions and personal self-doubt magnify the barriers faced by disabled students. There exist several common challenges in requesting accommodations, the stigma attached to disability support, and the toll that internalized ableism takes on mental health and academic success.
My brother and I both have ADHD, but growing up, my brother was hyperactive and I was inattentive. Because of this, he was diagnosed early on, and I wasn't. Many adults saw him as "the problem child," and when I got diagnosed years later, after seeing how my brother was treated, I chose to rely solely on medication. I feared that if I sought accommodations, people would treat me the way they treated him.
Because of these fears, I entered college without accommodations yet maintained a 4.0 GPA. However, since I was constantly trying to excel without support, I barely slept and was constantly stressed, to the point that I was physically ill for the majority of each semester, and my mental health plummeted. It took me four years to allow myself to seek support. I didn't want a grade boost. I just wanted to be able to sleep at night. With accommodations, I still maintained a 4.0. But because I was less stressed, I got proper rest, was sick less often, and my mental health improved.
When I pursued accommodations, I did so independently. My professors rarely spoke of accommodations, few had noticed that I was often sick, and only one had asked if I was doing ok. It would have been easier for me to get help if my professors had talked about accommodations as a source of support or had checked in on me.
My brother was never "the problem child." He didn't deserve to be treated that way, and seeing how he was treated led to significant internalized ableism [11,12] that I am still working through today. My accommodations didn't change my intelligence, they made it possible for me to fully showcase it without my mental and physical health suffering.
Interactions with Professors and Teachers (Author D) I had a difficult experience trying to get and use accommodations for one of my required classes. The professor was very resistant, especially regarding test-taking accommodations. He would discourage students from using them during class, and getting him to cooperate and approve exam accommodations was extremely challenging. This was frustrating, especially since these accommodations are some of the most common ones on campus: having a quiet room to take the test and extra time, up to 1.5 times the normal test time. Instead of making things easier, the professor made it worse by putting up to ten students with the same accommodations in one small room. The room was crowded, and everyone was stressed out, trying to keep an eye on the clock to ensure they didn't exceed the time limit. It felt like the accommodations didn't help and might have made things harder than just taking the test without them.
He often commented, "You don't need it," or "Students like that are just lazy and don't want to put in the work to study," which made the entire process even more frustrating
. I think the best thing a professor can do is try to understand what students need to learn and do their best. Accommodations shouldn't feel like a problem to work around. They're there to help students succeed, and professors should support that. So what can you do? Individual Mentoring (Author D) My academic advisor has probably been the most important resource for me as a student with a disability, and we've never really talked about my disability, which I think can be a good thing, because it allows us to discuss what's going well and what's not without feeling like I'm being treated differently. Mentors and academic advisors can provide critical support for disabled students by offering consistent guidance, advocacy, and personalized academic and professional development, and they need not focus solely on disabilities to make a positive impact. In my case, my advisor has helped me and many others obtain the right accommodations for our classes, whether we identify as disabled or not, ensuring that everyone gets the help they need. By building trusting relationships and empowering students to discuss academic goals and struggles without fear of judgment or stigma, effective mentors ensure all students receive the resources and support they need to thrive.
In my experience, what motivated me was not a recommendation from an instructor or advisor, but rather the significant struggles I faced in my classes; I simply could not complete exams and quizzes, causing my grades to plummet despite my understanding of the material and consistent completion of other coursework. We must help students recognize the legitimacy and value of accommodations, as accepting help (despite fears of appearing less capable) can substantially improve well-being and academic performance. Embracing accommodations is not about receiving an unfair advantage but mitigating barriers that would otherwise hinder preparation and success. Encouraging students to use available support services, whether initiated by instructors, advisors, or students themselves, is important for disabled learners.
The experiences shared by these five disabled physics students highlight the urgent need for systemic change within higher education. Despite being proactive in seeking accommodations and developing individualized coping strategies, they continue to face structural barriers and internalized ableism that hinder their academic success and compromise their well-being. These stories emphasize that traditional approaches (rigid grading systems, inflexible policies, onesize-fits-all assessments) fail to account for the unpredictable, fluctuating nature of many kinds of disabilities.
Moving forward, we should build inclusivity in every facet of instructional design. This involves embracing universal design principles, where course materials and assessments are inherently flexible, and inherently reduce the need for reactive accommodations. Faculty and administrators should be more open-minded and empathetic when students disclose their struggles and recognize that disability is multifaceted and often invisible.
If we reexamine course policies, adopt more generous absence and extension protocols, and foster a culture of empathy, higher education can better value and support students with disabilities. Ultimately, these changes do not only benefit disabled students but also create a more supportive learning environment for all.
Nobody should be forced to navigate a system that was not designed for them.