( CNN ) -- For many , back-to-school is a season of anticipation , nostalgia , and shopping . For me , it evokes memories of an unsung historical event : the integration of Harvard . No , I 'm not talking about racial integration ; I 'm talking about the full inclusion of students with disabilities . When I entered Harvard College as a freshman in 1980 , it happened to coincide with a new requirement -- all institutions receiving federal funds had to become fully accessible under Section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act of 1973 . I was a 17-year-old lifelong wheelchair-user , born with a neurological condition called spinal muscular atrophy . I 'd never walked or stood and my arms were weak as a baby 's . But , as my parents often said , there was nothing wrong with my head . I had little awareness of the precedent I was setting . At 17 , I was too self-centered for that . I was preoccupied with how I 'd cope my first time living away from my parents , depending on full-time , live-in personal-care attendants . Yet I had an Ivy League freshman 's cockiness , too . Somehow I 'd manage . I 'd always managed before , had n't I ? To be sure , Harvard had had students with disabilities before me . But those students had to make do , bearing or circumventing access barriers without complaint . After all , it was a centuries-old campus . How much could one expect ? I , on the other hand , had rights -- and expectations . I challenged the university in a whole new way . I was an inadvertent pioneer . I mean , it was n't my fault . I had n't fought for my rights . They fell into my lap . The timing was a coincidence , one I was n't entirely comfortable with . I remember meeting with university officials the summer before my freshman year got under way . We discussed every detail of my life and needs . What was the width my widest wheelchair ? Did I take baths or showers ? How much space around a toilet did I require for transfers ? Boxers or briefs ? ( Just kidding . ) I also had to pre-pick classes so Harvard could ensure mine would be held in accessible classrooms , of which there were too few . If I changed my mind , I could be out of luck . Not that pioneering was an unfamiliar role for me . I 'd been the first and only `` handicapped '' student in my nursery , elementary and high schools , too . My parents had insisted on my attending `` regular '' schools at a time when that was unheard of . In the 1960s , according to government statistics , only one in five disabled kids was educated in a public school -- usually a separate ( dare I say `` segregated '' ? ) special-ed school . The majority stayed home or got sent off to under-regulated residential institutions . More than a million handicapped kids had no access to the school system at all . Many states even had statutes specifically excluding the deaf , blind or mentally retarded from public schooling ! We lived in New York , and my parents were private-school kind of people . I vaguely recall how the schools my older , non-disabled brother attended refused to accept me , how my parents had to argue and beg on my behalf . They knew separate was n't equal , but they had no legal recourse . I ended up at the only private schools willing to take a kid in a wheelchair . It 's no exaggeration to say that for many years I assumed I was simply too dumb for my parents ' first-choice schools . Today , of course , it 's completely different . After countless pieces of legislation , reauthorizations , government commissions and legal rulings , wheelchair ramps and lifts , Braille and recorded books , sign-language interpreters , `` shadow teachers , '' and other accommodations are commonplace in schools as they are elsewhere . Parents of so-called special-needs kids still have to fight sometimes to ensure fairness , but they have rights and a grievance process on their side . Integration is the standard that must be met . Ultimately , my Harvard experience had its ups and downs , as might be expected of what was a revolutionary new concept . Sadly , it was n't just the ancient brick buildings and cobblestone paths that posed inexorable barriers ; sometimes hidebound traditions can be equally obdurate . Nevertheless , how the demographics of education has changed became especially clear to me recently when my kids ' school held a `` diversity day . '' ( My kids do n't have disabilities , but some of their classmates do . ) I boldly volunteered to lead a discussion about people with disabilities . To my surprise , I was n't the only one . Kids do n't always appreciate this . For them , the return to the school year is a ritualized obligation . What a shame so few understand it as a right and a privilege to be celebrated -- a proud and hard-won victory . Overcoming barriers to bring mobility to the world .
Ben Mattlin was born with spinal muscular atrophy , a rare degenerative disease . He has been in and out of hospitals since he was 3 years old because his muscles are so weak that they can not move properly. Spinal muscular atrophy affects 1 in 6,000 Americans .