One of the challenges in higher education is that the word compliance often evokes eye rolls or anxiety—especially when it’s paired with dense legal language, mandatory trainings, or abstract standards.
So when I set out to design AccessibleU, an ADA-focused training course for faculty and staff, my goal wasn’t just to meet the letter of the law. It was to reframe the entire conversation around accessibility—from something reactive and rigid to something empowering, practical, and pedagogically meaningful.
Yes, the course needed to address the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA), Section 504 and 508, and WCAG 2.1 AA guidelines. But more than that, it needed to help instructors and administrators feel confident, capable, and even inspired to build accessible learning environments.
The Challenge: Teaching Policy Without the Jargon
ADA compliance is essential. But it’s also complex.
Faculty are not compliance officers. They are disciplinary experts, often managing large teaching loads and limited support. So when you present them with legal policy, even with the best intentions, it can feel disconnected from their day-to-day realities.
The problem isn’t the policies themselves—it’s how we communicate them.
We needed a way to:
- Remove the intimidation factor
- Avoid oversimplification
- Translate accessibility from abstract rules into real classroom decisions
My Approach: Policy as a Design Prompt
The instructional design approach for AccessibleU was guided by a principle I return to often:
Don’t just tell people what they have to do—show them what it looks like when they do it well.
Here’s how that came to life:
Breaking Down Legal Jargon into Practical Prompts
Instead of presenting WCAG checkpoints or ADA clauses in full legal form, we contextualized each principle using faculty-facing questions, such as:
- “Can a student using only a keyboard navigate your course page?”
- “Are your PDFs readable by a screen reader?”
- “Is your course content presented in more than one format?”
We then paired these with real examples. By focusing on visible, relatable artifacts, we turned policy into a set of design habits, not a compliance checklist.
Modular, Self-Directed Learning Paths
Recognizing the diversity of our audience—faculty, administrators, instructional designers—I built modular content that allowed participants to self-navigate based on their needs and roles.
For example:
- Instructors could focus on assessments and multimedia
- Program leads could dive into course consistency and messaging
- Admin staff could explore platform-level accessibility or policy enforcement
This not only supported adult learning principles, it modeled the very accessibility principles we were teaching: choice, flexibility, and control.
Interactive Learning by Doing
AccessibleU didn’t just talk about accessibility—it modeled it. Throughout the course users can find:
- Design Notes explaining the design decisions made on the page.
- Simplified design, to enhance accessibility.
- Demonstrations of best practices, such as clear instructions on how to access content through multiple mediums.
- Reflection scenarios of a ‘What if’ variety, encouraging engagement with the content.
This hands-on approach turned abstract rules into tangible experiences—and made the stakes of accessibility personal.
Strategic Communication Beyond the Course Content
The course design itself was only part of the equation. Just as important was how we messaged the course across the university.
I worked closely with our communications team and institutional leadership to ensure our language reflected our goals:
- We avoided phrases like “required compliance module.”
- We emphasized empowerment and inclusion, not just regulation.
- We positioned accessibility not as a finish line, but a design mindset that evolves with practice.
My hope is that this framing will help shift perceptions. My goal is for faculty to no longer see accessibility as a burden but as a part of what it meant to teach well.
What I’ve Learned About Communicating Policy to Non-Policy Audiences
This project reinforced several key lessons about bridging the gap between policy and practice:
1. Lead with Purpose, Not Obligation
When people understand why a policy exists—when they see the real learners it affects—they’re more likely to engage thoughtfully.
2. Translate Policy into Decisions
Policy doesn’t live in a PDF. It lives in course shells, announcements, discussion boards, and lecture slides. Good communication shows how a policy translates into daily actions.
3. Meet People Where They Are
Assume everyone is doing their best with what they know. Design resources that are useful in the moment, not just theoretically accurate. Be generous, not punitive.
4. Model What You Teach
If you’re talking about accessibility, your own materials should be accessible. If you’re promoting inclusive language, use it in every email. Credibility is earned through consistency.
Looking Ahead: Embedding Policy into Culture
AccessibleU was never meant to be a one-off course. It’s part of a larger movement toward building accessibility into the culture of course design—not just responding to audits or checkboxes.
Since launching the course, we’ve started:
- Embedding accessibility checkpoints into course design consultations
- Creating follow-up workshops around inclusive pedagogy
- Drafting a QA framework that integrates accessibility as a core pillar, not an add-on
Each of these steps brings us closer to a university where accessibility is assumed, not added.
Final Thoughts
Accessibility isn’t just about meeting legal standards—it’s about creating learning environments where every student feels like they belong. And that doesn’t happen through compliance alone. It happens when we communicate clearly, design intentionally, and lead with care.
AccessibleU was one attempt to do that. And it reminded me that the most powerful policy work isn’t loud or legalistic—it’s empathetic, actionable, and human.
