For those of you who don't know, the annual orientation leader game of capture the flag is intensely epic. And it usually results in at least one casualty-a bruise, sprained ankles, blood-you name it. Unfortunately, I happened to be this year's casualty. While crawling down the hill behind the Faculty Club to make a valiant attempt at Team Massell's flag, I accidentally stepped the wrong way, rolled my ankle and fractured my fifth metatarsal. Or, in simpler terms, I broke my foot.After the game, I was commended repeatedly by the other orientation leaders for choosing to continue with orientation even with my debilitating injury. Their kind words meant a lot to me, but I quickly found that navigating orientation on crutches was significantly easier than I thought it would be. I had the endless support of everyone in orientation, and the members of the core committee were able to shuttle me across campus in golf carts whenever I needed it.

It actually wasn't until classes started that I began to have major difficulties.

On the first day of classes, I stood at the bottom of the hill going up to the Mandel Quad in my new walking boot wondering how on earth I was going to make it all the way up. I knew that Escort Services could provide a van to drive me to class, but I couldn't get in touch with them in time.

It wasn't until I no longer had access to the orientation golf carts that I realized how inaccessible our campus is to someone who is disabled. Walking up the Rabb steps is a challenge even with two working legs. But when you're unable to walk without assistance, what was a mild workout suddenly becomes an impossibly daunting task.

After that first day, I knew I would probably hurt myself even further if I continued trying to walk to class. I did finally get in touch with the director of Escort Services, but it took far too long. No one seemed to know how to help me, and despite my multiple messages and e-mails, no one ever got back to me.

Let's pause for a second. What is going on here? Why am I, the one with the broken foot, being forced to jump through hoops so I can get to class? According to the University website, out of the 3,100 undergraduates at Brandeis, approximately 8 percent have a documented disability. That's about 250 students. If you count students with temporary injuries, that number might increase slightly, but it is still a relatively small amount. But despite the small number of students who require accommodation, we seem to have a problem with providing adequate accessibility on this campus.

The root of the problem is the physical layout of the campus. There isn't much that can be done to change the hilly landscape or the buildings that already exist. But we should still be mindful of the number of older buildings that present a significant accessibility challenge.

All of the buildings in the Mandel Quad, for example (with the exception of the new Mandel Center for the Humanities and the Lown Center for Judaic Studies, which have ramps), require the use of stairs to enter them. The quad itself is also inaccessible without the use of stairs. There is a road into the quad, but the University has installed a gate, and the Escort van drivers do not have key card access. The Office of Disabilities Services does have the power to change the locations of classes for the convenience of someone with a disability. However, this can only be done before or at the start of a semester. If someone is injured in the middle of the semester, there is little that can be done.

Additionally, the Office of Disabilities Services presents a problem. During all the time I spent on the phone with Public Safety and Escort Services, no one ever told me Beth Rogers-Kay, the director of Disabilities Services, could provide help with my temporary injury. When I found out later that she could have put me directly in touch with the director of Escort Services, I was mildly exasperated. Why wasn't that information immediately available? And whose responsibility is it to make it available? It seems to me that very few people on campus know what the office does or that it even exists. But even if more people were properly informed about the Office of Disabilities Services, the Office is still wildly understaffed. I did attempt to meet with Rogers-Kay to interview her for this article, but I found that she was far too busy to meet with me, even to answer just a few questions. For the approximately 250 students with documented disabilities at Brandeis, not to mention those with temporary injuries, Beth Rogers-Kay is the only person available to meet with, and make accommodations for, all of them.

Needless to say, I am both shocked and angry to discover the shortcomings of disabilities services here. We can't move mountains (or in our case, hills and stairs) to accommodate those who are physically disabled. But we should be doing more than we currently are. The Office of Disabilities Services should hire more employees so they can quickly and efficiently meet the needs of all students with disabilities. Older buildings should be equipped with ramps and elevators wherever possible. The University has already built a new ramp next to the Mandel Center for the Humanities; this is a good start. Escort Services and Public Safety should know to direct injured students to the Office of Disabilities Services. These are such simple solutions that could make a world of difference to students.

I could be cliché and return to the University's roots as a social justice university. But I think in this case, our commitment to social justice is irrelevant. Many students with disabilities or with temporary injuries have overcome significant difficulties to be here and to continue attending class. It should be one of the University's top priorities as an institution, regardless of our mission, to meet their needs and provide all possible accommodations.