Anthony Mazzuca returned from military duty in Afghanistan with disabilities that affect his hearing and memory, making him eligible for special assistance in his pursuit of a community college degree.
But he doesn’t take the extra help.
“I don’t like to waste resources,” said Mazzuca, 47, of Waukegan, who is pursuing a business degree from the College of Lake County in Grayslake. “I do like to challenge myself.”
The former soldier is among the ranks of college students with disabilities who prefer to make their own way. Experts have a hard time tracking their numbers because the students prefer to fly under the radar.
“Many have left the disability back in high school,” said Thomas Crowe, director of the Office for Students with Disabilities at the College of Lake County. “They don’t want to use it as a crutch.”
In high school and elementary school, educators are obligated by law to identify and assist students diagnosed with disabilities — so they get help whether they want it or not. But once students enter college, it’s up to them to seek help through the school’s disabilities office.
No formal study has tracked how many students with disabilities earn college degrees without assistance, said Richard Allegra, program manager and director of business development for the Association on Higher Education and Disability.
“We don’t have a handle on the students who don’t register with the office and get through,” Allegra said. “That’s the number that’s kind of elusive to us.”
Allegra speculates 10 to 15 percent of students he’s encountered in his 30 years working in disability services tried the college experience on their own before seeking help. The reasons vary, but avoiding stigma is likely the overarching motivation for trying to get by without help, especially for people with psychiatric disabilities, he said.
“They don’t want to be looked at as different or feared,” Allegra said. “Young people want to be part of the group.”
Some colleges try to dispel those fears, and have been working harder to help disabled students understand that leveling the playing field should not be equated with “extra” help.
The Moraine Valley Community College Center for Disability Services works closely with its district high schools to help students feel comfortable identifying their disabilities and seeking the help they deserve, said Director Debbie Sievers.
Every fall, representatives from the college give presentations to special education students about the differences between high school and college. They distribute brochures and also offer tours to give them a feel for the campus, Sievers said.
Starting in February, representatives speak one-on-one with students and also communicate with parents.
“We talk again more in detail with students about what their plan is,” Sievers said. “We talk about their career options.”
In the summer, the department conducts student orientations and helps students register for classes. During the semester, the department sends out midterm evaluations.
“That has helped us to be very proactive with their academic success,” Sievers said.
Despite the college’s best efforts, some students don’t seek help, even if they are well aware they have a disability.
Beginning in preschool and continuing through elementary and high school, Peggy K. O’Connor, 33, of Orland Hills, had assistance from a classroom aide. She was 10 when doctors finally diagnosed a disability that affects her memory and ability to retain information.
Even though she passed her classes at Moraine Community College last fall, O’Connor was surprised to learn that her grade-point average wasn’t good enough to continue receiving a tuition grant.
She said she now knows she should have sought the help that she knew was available.
Enrolled in only two classes — a reading requirement and physical education — O’Connor thought she could handle the load. By the time she recognized she was studying the wrong material, it was too late for the disabilities office to schedule help for that semester.
“I didn’t have an aide to sit with me in the classroom. I didn’t record the lectures,” O’Connor said. “I thought I was understanding the materials in the right way in what the instructor was looking for.”
Coming to the realization around finals time that they “blew it” and should have gotten help is not unusual, said Nancy Litke, senior director of the Academic Success Center at Roosevelt University in Chicago.
For an extra fee, Roosevelt offers a transition program in which students meet with a specialist to work on strategies for success in college. That involves in part helping students identify and apply their strengths, as well as develop skills for communicating when they might need special help in class.
“We work really very hard on developing self-advocacy skills to help them to be able to be more comfortable talking to professors,” Litke said.
Mazzuca, the veteran, has identified several strategies to keep him on task and help him maintain his GPA. He looks at his calendar every day to jog his memory. He spends most of his day on campus.
“I’m here six days a week, 12 hours a day,” Mazzuca said. “I have to be here 60-65 hours a week.”
If he knows he has a difficult assignment, he will find a quiet place to study. But he also paces himself.
“I know how to cope.” Mazzuca said. “I give myself breaks. I socialize. I have made friends with the faculty and staff.”
And he also noted that he is not too shy to speak up and express an opinion when the need arises. And he does accept one bit of special treatment — which anyone could get by showing up early.
“Preferential seating is the only one I grasped on to,” he said. “I sit in the front of class, so I can hear everything.”
A person may have excellent coping skills, but that does not mean they won’t encounter issues beyond their control, Allegra said.
“Even if a student is not going to use our services, it’s important for them to register to be protected against discrimination,” Allegra said.
The Office for Students with Disabilities at the College of Lake County became an advocate for Darya Ganyuchenko, 22, of Vernon Hills, when she decided to pursue a lifelong dream of becoming a nurse.
Some educators at the college were skeptical a career in nursing was appropriate for a deaf person, she said.
The disabilities office equipped her with an amplified stethoscope. Access to that tool helped her pass an exam to become a certified nursing assistant in 2010, she said.
The office also provided real-time lecture transcription for an anatomy and physiology course. A Skype connection linked the classroom to an off-campus typist who transcribed the lecture and sent it instantly back to Ganyuchenko’s computer screen.
Reading the lecture at virtually the same time her classmates heard the words allowed Ganyuchenko to laugh with them at a joke the professor cracked. That nuance of timing moved her to a level of understanding that might have otherwise escaped her, Ganyuchenko said.
“A lot of people with disabilities underestimate what OSD can do for them,” she said. “People are shy. That can pose a big barrier.”
