In disability advocacy circles, the has gained a national reputation as one of the most progressive cities in the U.S. for incorporating the ideas and feedback of users with disabilities when creating new handicapped-accessible spaces, according to two prominent disability advocates.

, Baylor University professor of physical therapy and founder of mobility design studio , and , founder of the and a fellow, point to the work on and the adaptive design circles here as a model for other communities to follow.

The Creekwalk is a 4.8-mile paved pathway that runs from the Southside neighborhood to . When city planners and engineers decided to make accessibility a major focus of the Creekwalk, they tapped into local individuals with a range of backgrounds—medical and social model disability advocates, inclusive design experts, students at and local individuals with disabilities. , a city facilities engineer, and , City of Syracuse deputy commissioner of planning and sustainability, first invited local resident to provide a first-person perspective on the plans. McGough, a quadriplegic as the result of an accident at age 21, is the program coordinator at ARISE Inc., a local independent living center.

The project soon drew in others McGough knew: faculty members , professor of industrial and interaction design, and , professor and coordinator of the , who are both ARISE volunteers.

Also joining the group were Upstate Medical University developmental pediatrician and staff members from the , an inclusive preschool in Syracuse. Galloway and Truesdell were aware of the initiative through their involvement with the adaptive design community here.

Carr involved School of Design master’s students because he recognized how the project presented an exceptional opportunity to learn inclusive design via a “living laboratory” at a site adjacent to their class space. He also knew the project supported key University goals for students: experiential learning; community-engaged scholarship; enhanced awareness of diversity, equity, inclusion and accessibility; and a commitment to human thriving.

The city’s project leaders welcomed student involvement, Houck says. “These projects are something we’ve collaborated on with Don Carr and with other organizations in the community. Our projects are better for it, and it’s wonderful we can have that resource. Carr is raising the profile of the work that’s being done and it’s great that he’s involving his students in these efforts.”

Kerney agrees. “Whether it’s the first fully inclusive and accessible playground, our sidewalks, our recreational amenities, boat launches or trails that are available to all users, increasing access is an important part of serving the entire community. It’s something Mayor Walsh and the whole administration has prioritized,” he says. “The city has a responsibility to serve everybody, and these types of improvements do just that.”

The User View

The student designers began determining how to create a practical experience at the Inner Harbor site based on the disability community maxim, “Nothing about us without us is for us.” Their first step: borrowing a wheelchair to look at the pathway from a disabled user’s perspective.

They digitally mapped the entire Creekwalk path, then started ideating. One student created a video game to familiarize users with the trail virtually before they visit. Another made an app that offers information about all pathway features. A third designed an accessible interactive information kiosk housing electrical ports to recharge electric wheelchairs. Others created an animation of the trail that featured a series of accessible kiosks, each equipped with a joystick controller for those with limited dexterity.

Amaan Khan ’23, a student who worked on that project and who is now a product and branding designer, said the class with Carr was “an absolute pleasure. It taught us that even though societal paradigms are shifting toward inclusivity, we must unlearn many of our ways to better connect people with disabilities to the facilities that already exist. Doing that can unite people and guide them forward as a collaborative community.”

McGough says he welcomed the chance to offer ideas based on his lived experience. “I was excited that they listened to my feedback and wanted to follow up on it, and that they were open to suggestions about accessibility in the community spaces,” he says.

McGough was able to try the kayak launch last fall. It’s built so someone can comfortably transfer into and out of a boat via a bench, pull bars, hoists and a gradual rolling launch system. “I was so excited about this project. Getting out in the boat is such a great experience, getting some sun, being around water and nature, having some exercise and recreation,” McGough says. “It’s really freeing because once the boat is in motion, it’s all me making it happen. It’s a really nice thing to have when a lot of the time you require assistance from other people and aren’t able to feel so independent.”

Three Phases

The project has three access points—the kayak launch at the Inner Harbor and a wheelchair-accessible waterside access ramp at Kirk Park have been built. An access/launch point at Dorwin Avenue is planned as part of the third phase of the Creekwalk trail that is now under design.

A $70,000 grant from the Natural Resource Damage Assessment and Restoration program supported the Inner Harbor site, and $380,000 from the Honeywell remediation settlement, for improvements connected to Onondaga Lake, was used for the more extensive construction at Kirk Park. The city continues to apply for grants for ongoing accessibility projects.

A Model Partnership

Working together came naturally to this group, so it’s unlikely they were aware of the “ripple effect” of their cooperation. Fathers believes the city’s openness to including disabled users from the start, the involvement of interested supporters and the inclusion of University faculty and students in the project helped the group gel. “The way the group came together was kind of an organic thing—because disabled people, designers and clinicians began working together in a matter of hours,” he says.

Fathers tells how Truesdell, who was involved in Syracuse’s adaptive design collaboration, referenced that coalescing as “the Syracuse effect”—something she said she had not seen previously in her experience, he says. “She means that in Syracuse, it’s very easy to connect to people with disabilities, their advocates, their families and designers in a way that she hasn’t seen in any other place. It’s all about the people here. She said it was a very powerful thing to observe,” Fathers says.

Galloway says the collective advocacy spirit here “is particularly rare. It’s a model the world needs to come here to look at to see what Syracuse does and how they continue it,” he says. “Where Syracuse jumps into the ‘I’ve never heard of this before’ category is that here, the people with the lived experience are the ones with the power. To step back and let the disability community lead and to have city planners listen and take direction from the folks having lived experience, that’s very unique. So many people in Syracuse break the mold—you’ve got a really radical set of individuals who, from the beginning of the idea, listened and believed and took action from the disability community.”

Hands-On Rewards

The hands-on learning students experienced was important to their training as designers, Carr says. “In teaching design, this is a great way to get students to co-design with individuals in our community to address real needs. Together, we’re able to build, test and modify these ideas on the fly. It’s very rewarding to work alongside someone and then see their immediate reaction vs. purchasing a product that, in the end, might not address their actual need.”

From an inclusive design standpoint having projects where faculty can jump in helps Syracuse be a leader in the accessibility space, and having an adaptive design focus is a major attractor for the University’s graduate design program, Carr says. “That’s because there are opportunities for students to do grant-based work as part of their studies and then apply ideas throughout their careers.”

A group of faculty and graduate students are part of a growing movement in academia that is re-evaluating long-held assumptions about research design.

Critical Quantitative Theory seeks to disrupt the traditional dichotomy between quantitative and qualitative research methods, with the former typically assumed to be more rigorous and suited to “hard” sciences and the latter seen as more subjective and better suited for use with critical theoretical perspectives. By disrupting this dichotomy, CritQuant—sometimes called QuantCrit—seeks to use data and statistics in a more equitable way, arguing that by doing so, it might become a useful and more racially just method of examining social justice questions.

Introduced in a 2018 Race Ethnicity and Education journal article—“”—this method calls on education researchers to explore inequity by examining data sets and statistics through critical analytical frameworks, such as critical race theory (CRT), intersectionality and feminism.

At the School of Education, an interdisciplinary team of faculty and graduate students has been meeting twice a month—since spring 2023—as the Critical Quantitative Research Forum. Among its original members are , associate professor of reading and language arts; , associate professor of higher education; , associate professor of counseling and human services; , associate professor of quantitative research methodology; , associate professor of teaching and leadership; and doctoral student ParKer Bryant, a Lender Center for Social Justice Fellow.

Change and Possibility

“There is a primacy to quantitative data because it is seen as objective, so its findings have a privileged status,” says Professor Johnson. “Some people tend to trust quantitative data and see it as more valid than qualitative research methods, such as ethnographies, interviews or case studies.”

One reason for this paradigm, explains Johnson, is that in qualitative research, the researcher is the “instrument” that gathers data, through an interview or by analyzing texts “as opposed to a quantitative instrument, such as a survey that is analyzed by software.” Thus, the quantitative researcher is assumed to be impartial and their experiences or beliefs irrelevant. That assumption has sometimes cloaked biased research and conclusions, as with the widely criticized 1994 study .

“If quantitative research is the privileged approach, then it needs to be transformed if we are going to work toward equity,” Johnson says. “We can’t put all the work of addressing critical equity questions on qualitative researchers, so how can we use statistics to tell the story of social justice, point out inequities and put forward ideas of change and possibility that illuminate and address structural inequalities? I’ve been thinking about this since I was a grad student.”

A Challenging Space

As a current doctoral student, Bryant is researching the impact of academic language on creative thought. It’s a topic traditionally suited to qualitative methods, such as interviews, surveys and ethnography, she says. However, she became interested in CritQuant “because I wanted to explore my research question thoroughly. I’m already familiar with qualitative research, but I want to understand quantitative methods such as linear and advanced statistical models. There’s no reason not to know quantitative models.”

The research forum is collegial, Bryant observes. “What I tell my friends is that faculty really want to be there, so it feels as if you are having high intellectual conversation among colleagues. It’s a challenging space.”

Bryant was invited by the faculty members to join an internal grant project that continues the forum’s work.

“How Can Educational Inequities Caused by Racial Wealth Gap Be Reduced? A Critical Quantitative Analysis of Individual, Home, and School” is using quantitative methods to examine whether individual or institutional-level factors have a greater influence on “the mediated relationships among socioeconomic status, opportunity to learn and students’ learning outcomes.”

“This study aims to contribute to advancing quantitative methods in educational research using the CritQuant framework based on critical race theory and intersectionality,” writes principal investigator Jang. “We believe that educational scholars would benefit from our work in considering CritQuant as a racially just method.”

Peeling Back Assumptions

Given her scholarly work focuses on the effects of campus climate on the sense of belonging of students of color in science, technology, engineering and mathematics fields, Johnson is well-situated to critique the quantitative vs. qualitative dichotomy.

The reason why qualitative research is appropriate for answering questions of social justice is that “it can tap into communities the way that other research can’t, by asking about lived experiences or centering marginalized and minoritized voices,” she says.

Conversely, quantitative research is seen as not amenable to social justice work because statistics can be used to advance and explain non-equitable conclusions, as in “The Bell Curve.” “The history and restrictions of quantitative methods are seen as having limited value in an equity agenda. Folks like myself, trained in quantitative methods, are trying to figure out ways to use statistical research methods within critical frameworks such as CRT.”

One technique to make quantitative research more equity-minded—“positionality”—dispenses with the idea that the researcher is impartial. “CritQuant forces researchers to position themselves in the research and asks them to consider their biases and subjectivity,” Johnson says. “Research questions arise from somewhere, after all.”

Johnson says her research interests often return her to when she was director of minority student affairs at Worcester (Massachusetts) Polytechnic Institute, supporting Black, Latinx and Indigenous students. “That experience created lots of questions for me, and I often think back to the challenges my students had,” Johnson says.

“My experiences as a Black woman working at primarily white institutions frames where I’m coming from in my research, and CritQuant makes me reckon with that,” Johnson says. “Qualitative researchers are expected to do this work, so why aren’t quantitative researchers expected to do the same? We encourage our doctoral students to write out their positionality in their research design, in order to peel back assumptions of unbias and objectivity.”

Structures and Systems

Another technique is embedded in the CritQuant forum’s grant project and speaks directly to why the method has the power to transform educational research.

“Quantitative research often can situate deficits on the people being studied, whereas CritQuant research can be used to examine structures,” says Johnson. “In other words, we’ve spent a lot of time trying to fix the student, but critical quantitative research has the power to examine whether outcome differences might be environmental or institutional. Maybe we don’t need to fix the student but instead look at fixing the structures and systems.”

As education graduate students ask more questions about how to integrate CritQuant into their research topics, the research forum is becoming a space where faculty can share their own experiences and challenges, such as how to use quantitative methods with subject groups that are small in number or how to incentivize participation ethically.

“I research groups that are already minoritized on campuses,” Johnson says, “so when researching campus climate, I have to be able to overcome survey fatigue and build relationships in order to ask questions about racism and sexism. There is an extra labor required on the part of the researcher.”

Johnson sums up the work of the research forum as enacting the “critical” part of Critical Quantitative Theory. “It’s exciting to engage with faculty and graduate students in an informal way to sort that out.”