Calling Out Columbia

Like many people, I believed everything I read in the glossy brochures when I decided to pick a college. Calling me naive would have been a charitable description when I decided to come to Columbia, though. I did not arrive here as a fresh-faced 19-year-old; instead, I came to Columbia University as a bearded, obese, and hearing-impaired student. My laugh lines are really wrinkles, and I own clothing older than some freshmen, but there still isn't an excuse for my naivete.

Coming to Columbia was not a very pleasant experience for me. While I love the ideals Columbia stands for, I am having a brutal time dealing with the administration and fellow students. Because of my defective thyroid gland, I am invisible to everyone on campus. Considering that 22 percent of Americans (almost one out of every four Americans) are obese, I find that incredibly ironic. While the percentage of obese students at Columbia is probably much lower, obesity is inescapable once one leaves these hallowed halls.

My experiences with professors have been vastly different. Almost all of them were very supportive of me. In spite of my wonderful interactions with professors, University administrators have gone out of their way to make my stay here as difficult as possible. Campus Health Services, in particular, along with the awful policy that students are required to get from Chickering Insurance, is especially frustrating. In an attempt to repair what is my most important health concern and social phobia, I tried to get bariatic surgery-a procedure that is finally becoming a viable alternative for people who are in my situation.

I did everything I was supposed to do. I called Chickering to ensure that this would be covered. I was told that while it was difficult to obtain approval for it, the procedure was usually covered. I requested a formal recommendation letter from Health Services, and I followed all of their instructions. I spent nine months hoping and praying that the gods of bureaucracy would see fit to bless me with an approval. Everything was proceeding unusually smoothly. I was scheduled to have surgery on September 9, 2005.

Then Chickering refused to cover the surgery. I was told that, effective this semester, Columbia had specifically excluded this procedure and many others from the student health insurance under the apparent guise of cutting costs. In order to get this information, I had to spend almost 11 hours on the telephone over the course of two days. I was told this "unofficially" by a receptionist who was so tired of being harassed that she told me just to get rid of me.

I am sure that there is some official policy saying these cuts were made to "improve economies of scale" or "contain the costs of non-required procedures" or some other official bureaucratese, but that doesn't change the fact that I attempted to get this procedure with the best information I had at the time. I would have never dreamed that such a specific exclusion would be put in place, and how dramatically that one decision has changed my life. My claim was processed before August 31, 2005-before the end of the coverage period that started on September 1, 2004. The previous rules should have applied.

I suppose I will never know what motivated this administrative change. I don't have words for how angry and betrayed I feel. I am not sure what to expect out of writing this submission, but I do know that many Columbia students are socially principled, politically active, and quite ready and willing to make their voices heard. If anyone wants to join me on a crusade, I am prepared to try almost anything at this point.