“Great Spirit, help me never to judge another until I have walked a mile in his moccasins.”

After spending last Monday in a wheelchair, that Native American prayer became infinitely more real to me. Struggling to get in and out of the elevator, creeping slowly down the sidewalk toward my next class, feeling the wondering eyes of fellow students: it was definitely different.

“Handicapped for a Day,” that was the assignment — join the ranks of those who don’t take walking for granted. And the ability to leave my wheelchair made the contrast all the more striking.

My dorm, Lyon Hall, is not handicapped accessible, so I had to store my blue-seated wheelchair at the Daily office overnight. Then, I could get up, walk to food service, climb the stairs to my room and play basketball at the Rec.

“They’re just small things no one really thinks about,” said Kelly Van Veldhuizen, a sophomore at the University of Northern Iowa.

Van Veldhuizen has been confined to a wheelchair since July 1997, when a car accident left her paralyzed from the waist down. This spring is the first time she has been back at college since the accident.

Routine tasks have become a struggle for her. “It’s harder for me to get my coat on and off. It causes such a commotion that I just leave it on,” she said.

A recent snowfall may have made the Cedar Falls campus a little less dreary, but Van Veldhuizen said it was just one more obstacle.

“They scoop the sidewalks, but it’s not really well shoveled, so it’s bumpy and that makes it a lot harder. It’s a little too cold to be taking my time [outside], so I have someone help me get around,” she said.

Since her legs have no feeling, Van Veldhuizen said, she is at a much greater risk of frostbite.

There was no snow in Ames Monday to slow me down, but there were plenty of other impediments.

Manhole covers — I wouldn’t give them a second thought if I was walking, but I should have avoided them with my wheelchair. The sudden embarrassment when I ran over one and suddenly veered off into the grass was just another reminder of my clumsiness.

Inside, boarding the elevator was fine. But when I tried to roll out on the top floor of Pearson Hall, I bumped into a fellow passenger while turning around. So much for that. I gave up and backed out into the midst of curious students waiting to go into class.

“Everyone just stares,” Van Veldhuizen said. “It’s almost like you feel ashamed, but not really.”

She said she wished people would forget about her handicap. “I’m still the same person,” she said.

After she arrived late to her first class, Van Veldhuizen said, fellow students tried to help her get situated — but it only made her more uncomfortable.

“They were trying to help, but they were just making it more difficult,” she said. “They don’t even ask; they just automatically assume you can’t do anything,” she added, remembering her frustration.

A handicapped student at Iowa State said the campus is one of the most accessible he has seen.

“Every building has a door I can use. I’ve never seen a building here that doesn’t have a ramp,” said Jason Karwal, a junior in agricultural business.

“I’ve been to a couple other campuses where only a couple buildings were accessible,” Karwal said. He mentioned one college in Colorado where only a few ramps existed, because the campus had been made accessible to accommodate just one student and his classes.

Karwal, who has used a wheelchair since a 1995 accident, said snow isn’t too much of a problem for him, since he has a car.

“I usually just drive to class when it gets really deep,” he said. Karwal’s car is specially designed for hands-only drivers, with a lever on the steering column to control both the accelerator and the brake.

Karwal described himself as a “completely independent” student, thanks to handicapped seating at sporting events and an elevator in Friley that helps him get from his room to food service.

“The campus isn’t that bad, really,” he said. “The worst places are small towns that haven’t had to become accessible.”

Growing up in a small town, “you don’t notice that everything has steps,” he said.

“ISU was pretty responsive to me as a student,” said Joyce Packwood, coordinator of disability resources in the Dean of Students Office. Packwood, who also uses a wheelchair, was an ISU student from 1968-72.

When Packwood enrolled, Pearson Hall was the only classroom building with a ramp.

“They scheduled everything in Pearson for me,” she said.

In 1968, Carver Hall was built, with ramp access to one set of doors.

But Packwood said the new facility was not perfect.

“They would only clear one shovel wide through the snow, so when it got really deep, I couldn’t go anywhere,” she said.

She also remembered the step up into Botany (now Catt) Hall.

“That was a big step. I had class in there and my friends had to lift me,” she said.

The new Catt Hall is a “very big improvement,” Packwood said. “It’s got really, really good facilities.”

According to information provided by ISU Facilities Planning and Management, only one classroom building, Landscape Architecture, is still inaccessible, along with a few laboratories, such as the Agronomy Laboratory.

But Packwood said 100 percent accessibility is not her ultimate goal.

“It doesn’t mean you can get into every spot,” she said. “It means you can use every program and every office.”

More important, she said, is making disabled students aware of the services available to them.

“I’d like to put it in print and on the Web, so that it’s easier for them to get to,” she said.

Students who want such information can get it from her office in the Student Services Building.

However, a new campus map showing all accessible sidewalks and building entrances has recently been printed, replacing an outdated 1988 version.

My wheelchair-bound experience was relatively easy.

I only had two classes. The first was in Pearson Hall, and after that, it was across campus — but comfortably downhill — to my opinion writing class in Hamilton Hall.

I had a chance to rest my arms when I returned home. I didn’t have to fight stifling humidity, blazing heat or brutal wind. I had the advantage of automatic doors that didn’t exist 20 years ago.

At the end of the day, I returned my wheelchair to the friendly secretary on the third floor of Student Services.

After thanking her, I walked down the hall, flew down the steps and ran out into the fresh air. I had never considered that a privilege before.