Nobody Told Me I Could Ask For What Wasn’t On the List

By Emely Pacheco

Nobody told me I could ask for access that was not already provided.

When I started college, I thought accommodations were something you picked from a sheet: interpreter, notetaker, extended time. If something was not listed, I assumed it was not an option.

It took me years to learn that the options provided were only a starting point.

The Access Gap Started Before College

By the time I arrived on campus, my understanding of accommodations had already been shaped by my K–12 experience. I had attended both a school for the Deaf and mainstream schools, where I primarily used ASL interpreters. Whatever access model my school used became the only model I knew.

Campus visits and conversations focused on choosing a major, moving into a dorm, navigating dining plans, and getting involved in real college settings. But almost no one showed me what access would actually look like in a real classroom with barriers happening all at once.

Nobody showed me how to recognize an access gap, describe what was missing, and work with Disability Services toward a solution.

You cannot ask for what you have never seen modeled.

Part of why my access picture took so long to come into focus is that my identity was still coming into focus too. I was navigating college without fully having the language for my own experience — how I understood myself as Deaf+, DeafBlind, or a person with low vision, and how those experiences shaped the access I needed.

Those terms were not handed to me. They came gradually through exposure, other people, and the spaces I happened to be in.

There is no single way to be DeafBlind. DeafBlind people may have different combinations of vision, hearing, communication, language, mobility, environmental, and cultural experiences. A student may still be exploring whether and how they identify as DeafBlind, Deaf+, low vision, or something else while already experiencing real visual and communication access barriers.

Language Note: Low Vision ≠ Close Vision Low vision and Close Vision are not the same thing. Low vision is a medical or functional description of a person’s vision. DeafBlind can be a disability and/or identity framework that includes many sensory and communication experiences. Close Vision, sometimes called CV, is an interpreting or access approach that may be used when a person needs visual communication to be positioned closer in order to access it clearly. A person with low vision may or may not use Close Vision interpreting. Using Close Vision as an access approach does not automatically describe someone’s diagnosis or identity.

The more language I had for my experience, the clearer my access gaps became. The gap was not that accommodations did not exist. The gap was that I did not know they existed.

What I Thought Access Was

Interpreter

Notetaker

Tiempo extendido

CARRO

What I Later Learned It Could Also Be

Communication Access

ASL interpreting
Cued Speech transliteration
DeafBlind interpreting, based on the individual’s communication, sensory, visual, hearing, and environmental access needs
Possible access approaches such as Close Vision, restricted signing, tracking, tactile communication, haptics, visual environmental information, or other interpreting arrangements

Testing + Assessment Supports

Classroom + Learning Supports

Speech-to-Text + Captioning

Listening + Technology Supports

Access Beyond the Form

Want More Examples? Visita NDC's Acceso y Adaptaciones page for additional accommodation keywords and guidance.

The List Was Never the Whole Picture

On my first day, Disability Services handed me a printed sheet.

Notetaker. Extended time. Interpreter request.

For a long time, I read it as a menu: these are the options, pick what applies. Later, I understood it differently. The list was really a record of solutions other students had already figured out before me.

The list is where the system starts. It was never meant to be where I stop.

The DeafBlind interpreting support I eventually received did not start with a form. It started with a moment of realization, followed by the support of a teacher who helped me believe the need was worth bringing forward.

What DeafBlind Interpreting Is – and Why It Matters

Because it took me three years to even learn this term, I want to make it simple. The language used in the DeafBlind community and in DeafBlind interpreting continues to evolve, but the need for access that matches each person’s experience has always been there.

DeafBlind interpreting is an individualized interpreting service designed around the communication, sensory, visual, hearing, and environmental access needs of a DeafBlind person. Depending on the individual and the setting, it may include different communication modalities and access approaches, such as Close Vision, restricted signing, tracking, tactile communication, haptics, visual environmental information, or other interpreting arrangements. The specific approach should be determined by the person’s preferences, access needs, and context — not by a single standardized method.

For me, this mattered because a standard classroom interpreting setup did not cover everything I needed to access. The interpreter’s hands were moving, which meant my eyes were focused on them. But while I was watching the interpreter, other visual information in the room could disappear.

DeafBlind interpreting may help make that missing visual and environmental information accessible.

That might include:

Who raised their hand

What changed on the slide

Where the professor moved

A classmate’s facial reaction

What the classmates are saying from across the room

Someone entering the room late

A visual joke, demonstration, or movement happening in the space

For some deaf students, it may be possible to watch the interpreter and still track the surrounding room. But for a student with Close Vision (CV), low vision, DeafBlindness, Deaf+ experiences, or a restricted visual field, attention may only be able to go to one place at a time.

An interpreting arrangement may include one interpreter focused on the speaker and another interpreter supporting visual or environmental access. Some people may describe part of that second role as copy interpreting, but the important point is not the label. The point is the access needed and the role being provided.

Placement can vary based on the student’s needs and the environment. A DeafBlind interpreter may be positioned near the ASL interpreter, closer to the DeafBlind student, or elsewhere in the room to provide the clearest visual access.

A dedicated second interpreter is not always necessary. In some settings, one interpreter may be able to incorporate visual or environmental information into their role. In others, two interpreters or a different interpreting arrangement may be needed. At large events, panels, graduations, conferences, or busy classrooms, the distinction may become especially clear: one interpreter follows the speaker while another helps make the visual environment accessible.

One interpreter cannot always cover two places of attention at once. Neither can the student.

One professor had experience working with DeafBlind students and already understood what a visual field gap costs in a live classroom. I described what I was losing. They did not tell me the existing arrangement should be enough.

They said:

Go to Disability Services, and I’ll back you up.

That support changed everything.

The ask felt possible because someone had already told me it was worth making. That support changed how I entered the conversation.

But students should not have to find the right professor, the right advocate, or the right person with DeafBlind access knowledge before their needs are taken seriously. When I brought the gap to Disability Services with a specific description of what I was missing, the conversation was different. The access barrier was no longer invisible.

The list cannot account for every room. It gives you a floor. You are still the one noticing what the floor is missing.

Before You Request DeafBlind Interpreting, Start With These Questions

You do not have to know the exact name of the service before you ask. Instead, you can start by describing:

Comunicación

Visual Access

Posicionamiento

Environmental Information

Setting

Interpreting Team

Trial and Evaluation

How to ask for something not on the list:

Describe the access barrier first.

Explain what you are able to access and what you are missing.

If helpful, connect the gap to an existing accommodation and explore possible solutions collaboratively.

Ask for a short trial to see whether the proposed solution closes the access gap.

Get the decision in writing — and if the answer is no, ask for the reason in writing.

Find an ally when you can, but know that access should not depend on having one.

Need guidance on how to file a grievance?Visita NDC's Cómo presentar una queja página de recursos for step-by-step information on filing an accommodation-related complaint.

For me, that sounded like:

My current accommodation includes an interpreter, which covers spoken language well. What it does not cover is the visual information I miss while watching the interpreter — who raised their hand, or what changed on the slide. I may not know the exact name of the service yet, but can we talk about what kind of DeafBlind interpreting arrangement or access approach might help close that gap, even as a short trial?

That framing opens a conversation instead of waiting for a yes or no on a form.

In one semester, I reminded the same professor about the same accommodation three times: in the welcome email, during office hours, and again mid-lecture when it slipped. Each time, I had to decide whether to speak up again or absorb the gap quietly.

Saying something repeatedly is not being difficult. It is part of navigating an access need that nobody else may be tracking but yourself.

I still felt guilt, especially toward the interpreters I relied on every day. Asking for something new, something outside the original assignment, felt like adding weight to people who were already working hard to support me.

What would have helped earlier was connection with people who already understood without needing a five-minute explanation.

One thing that would have changed my first year was a community space during orientation week specifically for students with disabilities, with upperclassmen invited in to share and connect. Not another formal presentation, just a space to connect with people who already know what this feels like.

I also needed a Disability Services advisor willing to sit down and ask how I was actually doing, not only what form needed to be completed.

Build Your Support Map

Trusted teacher

Academic advisor

Disability services advisor

Counseling center

Disability cultural center

Peer mentor

ADA/504 coordinator

What Changed

I went to a student government meeting in my cuarto year not expecting anything to change. But when the conversation turned to visual access needs, I shared my experience, knowing it could also benefit other DeafBlind students.

That meeting helped me name what I had been missing. It gave me the language and clarity to go to my professor, then to Disability Services, and ask for support that actually addressed my access gaps.

Knowing I needed DeafBlind interpreting was only one part of it. What mattered most was that I could describe my access experience specifically, visually, and in detail. That process surfaced something that had not been formally recognized before: Close Vision was added to my official record as part of how I access visual information.

That is what can happen when you describe what is missing instead of waiting for the list to catch up to you.

When The System Isn’t Built For Us

What I wish could change so DeafBlind students are not left to figure out access alone:

Takeaway for Students

If something is not working, you do not have to know the perfect accommodation name before you ask for help.

Start with what you are missing.

Start with what you can access.

Start with what would allow you to participate fully.

Then ask: “Can we figure out what would cover this?”

Takeaway for Professionals

When a student describes a barrier that does not fit neatly into the standard list, do not stop at the form.

Get curious. Ask what access looks like in practice. Ask what the student can access, what they are missing, and what changes across different rooms, lighting, layouts, events, and communication settings.

Access should begin with the individual, not with the name of the service. Sometimes the accommodation a student needs is not “extra.” It is the missing piece that helps them participate fully.

Access needs do not always fit neatly into a standard list. Whether you are preparing for college, supporting a deaf student, or helping students build stronger access plans, Centro Nacional de Sordos (NDC) has resources to help you understand accommodations, self-advocacy, and what access can look like in practice.

Your experience is valid, and your access deserves a conversation.

Nadie me dijo que podía pedir lo que no estaba en la lista