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Safeguarding the rights of people with disabilities should be a priority for both the scientific and educational communities, and they need to partner with disabled students to get the job done right.
Let’s face it, whether you are a parent or teacher, a school principal or college president, if you care about students with disabilities under your care, then logic dictates you should care about climate change and its impacts on the most vulnerable among us.
In 2025 alone, major climate tragedies, such as Hurricane Melissa’s destruction in Jamaica and Cuba, extreme heatwaves across Europe, and floods in Southeast Asia, demonstrated a new reality for today’s college and K-12 students: We are seeing more extreme weather, and the most vulnerable among us, along with the elderly, are college and K-12 students.
Consider the fact that nearly 240 million children globally manage life with a disability, making them more vulnerable to the impacts of climate change than the general population. They are among the most affected by sudden floods or mudslides; they cannot physically escape without help; they are most harmed by incapacitated roadways and shut-down transportation; and they are most vulnerable when it comes to diminished or defunded healthcare.
As a former public school teacher and a professor, I have witnessed firsthand the inadequacies of our disaster drills for students with disabilities. Some of the daunting questions that flashed through my mind during these drills were: Are school and university emergency shelters accessible to students in wheelchairs? Many communication systems and warning alerts depend on visual and auditory cues. What if a student is deaf and vision impaired?
The need for K-12 climate change education to be disability inclusive runs against the Trump administration’s attempts at dismantling special education.
As an author of two books on climate change and environmental justice education, when our policies and programs do not include disability access, I know we are failing to keep all children and students safe.
The need to provide accessible climate education is especially urgent in light of the recent 50th anniversary of the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA). For five decades, IDEA has guaranteed every child in the United States a “Free and Appropriate Public Education.” Still, Congress’ promises remain largely unfulfilled, and schools struggle to fund services because they don’t receive adequate federal support.
However, in times of extreme weather, we must ask ourselves whether we are creating curriculum and safety plans that provide information needed to survive a sudden flood or severe heatwave. And we must consider whether our actions meet the letter of the law. A non-inclusive climate education is not just a curriculum gap; it is a violation of civil rights. We must treat students with disabilities as experts who can contribute to climate change action and activism, not just view them as people who need to be saved.
This means co-designing climate change studies with disabled students. A partnership. Co-designing (or redesigning) climate change curriculum offers teachers an excellent opportunity to tackle and overcome building design challenges. For example, students can design and engineer prototypes of multimodal emergency alert systems that can deliver warnings through sound, tactile vibration, and accessible text (such as large fonts or braille). Being intentional and thinking about accessibility throughout the design process benefits all students.
In addition, students can solve problems using a multidisciplinary approach across all subjects.
Students with disabilities can create and engineer prototypes of multimodal emergency alert systems that can deliver warnings through sound, tactile vibration, and accessible text, such as large fonts or braille—designs innovated via students’ life experiences and challenges. When working within the realm of visual color-coded maps meant to indicate levels of pollution or heat, students with eyesight challenges can create tactile, three-dimensional maps in clay or papier-mâché and attach braille labels. Other design solutions needed by disabled students during a climate event include supplying emergency electrical power for medical devices and refrigeration for certain medications, as well as access to emergency evacuation routes.
Furthermore, students with disabilities working on design and safety projects will be in a position to present their findings and projects to the city council, school board, and school PTA to advocate for increased accessibility at their school and in their community.
Researchers have also called on scientists to consider physical and mental ability when developing adaptations and responses to climate change. This provides students with an opportunity to glean from established scientific work to build their own solutions. Safeguarding the rights of people with disabilities should be a priority for both the scientific and educational communities, and they need to partner with disabled students to get the job done right.
The need for K-12 climate change education to be disability inclusive runs against the Trump administration’s attempts at dismantling special education. In fact, Trump’s administration has launched a war on disability, which has included removing the accessibility page and American Sign Language content from the White House website, removing interpreters from across multiple federal agencies, and openly using ableist slurs.
Urge your senators and representatives to support the IDEA Full Funding Act (S. 1277/H.R. 2598), co-sponsored by US Representative Jared Huffman, who represents California’s District 2.
The bill will ensure that Congress funds IDEA at the full 40%. And that means student designers will create a world accessible to everyone.
My situation is emblematic of a broader problem faced by Autistic people: There is so much public misunderstanding of our condition and, in spite of some progress, nowhere near enough ways for us to advocate for ourselves.
Recently there has been highly welcome indignation and pushback against the quackish treatments and attitude of stigmatization advocated by President Donald Trump against Autistic people during his infamous September 22 press conference. Some of the most forceful criticisms have been made by Autistic individuals and Autistic-led organizations. It has also been satisfying to see a major political figure like Illinois’s Democratic Gov. JB Pritzker offer enlightened rhetoric on the subject. In an executive order in May designed to protect Illinois’s Autistic persons’ privacy from Health and Human Services Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr.’s proposal to create a nationwide registry of Autistic persons, Pritzker stressed that “autism is a neurological difference–not a disease or an epidemic.”
In recent years activists and writers like Eric Garcia Jr., Temple Grandin, and the late Steve Silberman have pushed back against the stigmas attached to Autism by Trump and RFK Jr.: that Autistic people represent a diseased, anti-social segment of the population that are in need of a “cure” for their condition. Silberman’s best selling 2015 book NeuroTribes was a particularly notable contribution to the public discourse, describing Autism not as a mental illness but a normal and healthy variation of human neurological development. Writers like Silberman have stressed that Autistic people have the potential to use their unique intellectual and emotional gifts to make valuable contributions to the broader society—if that society is willing and able to offer accommodations to allow Autistic people to thrive.
Unfortunately, while the relatively enlightened approach toward Autism outlined above has made some progress in positively impacting public understanding, that progress has also been relatively limited. That limitation is illustrated perfectly by the Trump administration’s focus on finding a “cure” and other aspects of its harmful, reactionary approach to Autism. The Trump administration’s approach to Autism is part and parcel of its punitive and uncaring approach to underprivileged Americans in general, as demonstrated by its draconian gutting of an already devastated American welfare state.
Some of the most serious problems in Autistic policy in the United States run much deeper than Trump’s cruelty and ignorance or the medical quackery promoted by RFK Jr. One of the most deep-seated problems relates to Autistic adults in the job market. The unemployment rate for Autistic adults in the United States is extremely high—85% according to one estimate.
I have direct experience with the subject of Autistic adult employment. As an adult in my early 30s—in 2012—I received my first official medical diagnosis of Autism Spectrum Disorder: I was diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome. This diagnosis was supposed to help me receive disability accommodations in future employment after I received my master’s degree. After all, according to the Americans with Disabilities Act of 1990, employers are supposed to provide “reasonable accommodations” to persons with documented disabilities in order to help them overcome barriers to performing a job.
Over the past 15 years, I have had about seven employers—all low wage jobs—and have mostly gone without disability accommodations—not because I don’t need them but because I’ve found it impossible in most cases to obtain them. In most of these jobs, it was a psychologically shattering strain for me to try to succeed at them and try to compensate for my learning disabilities and moderate verbal communication impairment.
As far as I can tell, one of the reasons for my difficulties in obtaining employment accommodations is that, looking at me on the surface, I appear “high functioning.” As a job counselor with my state government’s Department of Vocational Rehabilitation (DVR) said to me 15 years ago, “You have a master’s degree, you shouldn’t be working at McDonalds,” when I suggested the latter as a possible employment route. When I had my first meeting with a supervisor at a job with a medical company in 2021, she remarked—thinking she was giving me a compliment—that I “didn’t look” like I had Asperger’s Syndrome. According to her I appeared “well put together” and well spoken. However, before long, previously invisible manifestations of my disabilities became apparent to her; I quit the job after four months as the supervisor made clear she was preparing to write me up for ineptitude.
The Trump administration’s approach to Autism is part and parcel of its punitive and uncaring approach to underprivileged Americans in general, as demonstrated by its draconian gutting of an already devastated American welfare state.
Although at one point the supervisor suggested she would be willing to give me disability accommodations, the company’s corporate office refused, saying that I would have to go through the costly and lengthy process of getting a new diagnosis of Autism before they would consider granting accommodations. The corporate HR official said that my 2012 Aspergers diagnosis was obsolete because of new diagnostic criteria for Autism embodied in the 2013 publication of the fifth edition of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders.
However, perhaps the most important reason for my frequent failure to secure disability accommodations is that, in many cases, the willingness of employers to provide accommodations often comes into conflict with the need to maximize worker productivity in the interests of profit. Even when accommodations are officially provided, they can easily become reduced to irrelevance as supervisors feel the pressure to maximize efficiency and productivity and lash out at employees. I myself have been bullied at a previous job for aspects of my personality related to my Autism—in spite of this job being one of the few instances where I was provided with formal disability accommodations—and have seen other Autistic coworkers similarly treated.
Meanwhile, I can report that I have been employed in a full time job for the last four years with the same company, currently making per hour approximately $3.49 more than my state’s minimum wage. I work with no disability accommodations at this job and have only told one coworker that I am Autistic. Within the last year, the company has assigned me a more public-facing role in tasks especially incompatible with my Autism-related disabilities. I’m highly tempted to ask HR for accommodations—to at least minimize my work in the public-facing role—but fear rejection and unduly antagonizing my supervisor who has long faced a staffing shortage in the public-facing role.
I think my situation is emblematic of a broader problem faced by Autistic people: There is so much public misunderstanding of our condition and, in spite of some progress, nowhere near enough ways for us to advocate for the manner in which society can respect our needs.
Starvation of civilians is not an accident of war, it is a deliberate policy.
In July, major news organizations published the image of 18-month-old Muhammad Zakariya Ayyoub al-Matouq, a Palestinian child so emaciated that his bones protruded through his back, while his mom cradled him in her arms. Instead of a diaper, he wore a black plastic bag.
Some online commentators have sought to downplay the image’s power by pointing to a preexisting medical condition. But Muhammad is starving as the result of Israel’s use of starvation of civilians as a weapon of war. This is a war crime that is affecting the entire population and, based on my research, is inflicting particularly profound suffering on children with disabilities like Muhammad.
Humanitarian workers told me that restrictions on aid prevent them from bringing in special food that some children with disabilities or medical conditions need, while medical workers warned that children with disabilities are less likely to get care due to the Israeli government’s systematic assault on Gaza’s healthcare infrastructure.
In mid-August, in Geneva, I joined the United Nations Committee on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities for its session focused on the Occupied Palestinian Territory. Under the Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities, governments are required to protect people with disabilities in situations of risks, including armed conflicts. The message from disability groups was clear: Governments need to press Israeli authorities to allow unimpeded, disability-inclusive humanitarian access and not leave children like Muhammad to suffer the consequences of intentional starvation.
Muhammad’s image should move world leaders to use all their leverage with Israel, including an arms embargo and targeted sanctions, to stop Israeli authorities’ mass starvation policy.
There are countless examples of Palestinian children with disabilities thriving with adequate nutrition and healthcare. In just one example, 6-year-old Fadi al-Zant, who has cystic fibrosis and was severely malnourished, was evacuated to the United States from Gaza last year and survived. Osman Shahin, a 16-year-old boy with cerebral palsy who had lost 7 kilograms, regained weight after his family left Gaza for Bosnia.
But Muhammed and other children in Gaza do not have that chance. Between April and mid-July alone, more than 20,000 children in Gaza were hospitalized for acute malnourishment, 3,000 of them severely. Starvation of civilians is not an accident of war, it is a deliberate policy.
Muhammad’s image should move world leaders to use all their leverage with Israel, including an arms embargo and targeted sanctions, to stop Israeli authorities’ mass starvation policy. Muhammad’s disability does not make his starvation less cruel or unlawful; it makes it all the more urgent for countries to act now.