Disability Discrimination in Employment

Introduction

Imagine a veteran teacher who develops a chronic health condition that limits her mobility, or a university IT specialist coping with hearing loss who needs sign-language interpretation in staff meetings. How should a school or college respond? Disability discrimination in employment is a critical area of education law that every K–12 and higher education administrator must navigate. It is rooted in federal statutes like the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA)) and Section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act, as well as state laws, court rulings, and evolving regulations.

At the outset, it’s important to note the dual landscape administrators operate in. Public institutions (like school districts and state universities) must heed federal disability laws and also consider constitutional constraints, while private institutions, including most private schools and colleges, are primarily governed by federal law (and any applicable state laws) without the sovereign immunity issues public entities face. In Georgia, for example, state law provides only limited protection for employees with disabilities. It makes it crucial for administrators here to rely on federal standards and proactively accommodate employees. Indeed, Georgia is among a small minority of states that have not adopted a robust state equivalent of the ADA’s employment provisions. As we’ll see, this gap, combined with certain court decisions, can influence how Georgia educators seek relief.

Apart from moral and practical reasons to support employees with disabilities, non-compliance can lead to legal liability and loss of federal funding. Disability-based charges have become one of the most common forms of employment discrimination complaints nationwide, with reasonable accommodation disputes on the rise in recent years, notably during and after the COVID-19 pandemic. Educational institutions have been at the center of key cases, from a Florida elementary teacher in the 1980s who was removed due to tuberculosis, to recent cases about professors seeking remote work during COVID. Each dispute teaches administrators something about how to apply “legal reasoning to practice.” Let’s begin by stepping back to where modern disability employment law started: the foundational cases that every administrator should know.

Seminal Cases: Foundation and Evolution

Disability discrimination law in employment has been shaped by a series of landmark Supreme Court decisions. They establish the fundamental principles that school administrators must understand: what counts as “discrimination,” who is protected, what “reasonable accommodation” means, and how far an employer must go to include a person with a disability.

Rehabilitation Act of 1973 and the Foundation of “Otherwise Qualified”

Before the ADA existed, the Rehabilitation Act of 1973 set the stage by prohibiting disability discrimination in federally funded programs, including public schools and universities. Section 504 of that Act declared that “no otherwise qualified individual with a disability…shall, solely by reason of her or his disability, be excluded from…employment by any program receiving federal assistance” (29 U.S.C. § 794). But what does “otherwise qualified” mean in practice for a job in education?

The Supreme Court addressed it in Southeastern Community College v. Davis (1979), a seminal case (though involving a student applicant rather than an employee) that had ripple effects for employment. In Davis, a nursing program rejected an applicant with a significant hearing impairment, reasoning that her disability would prevent safe participation in clinical training. The Court ruled that Section 504 did not require the college to fundamentally change its program (like waiving essential clinical components) to accommodate the individual. The applicant was not “otherwise qualified” because, even with some accommodations (like hearing aids or lip-reading), she could not perform the essential requirements of the program. The important takeaway is that employers (or programs) need not lower essential standards or eliminate fundamental duties as an accommodation. However, Davis also implied that more modest adjustments are expected. This set a baseline: an individual with a disability must be able to perform the essential functions of the job (or program) with reasonable accommodations; if not, they may be deemed not “otherwise qualified.” For educational administrators, Davis illustrates the balance between maintaining job standards (e.g. a teacher’s core teaching duties) and providing support, which was a balance that later cases would refine.

School Board of Nassau County v. Arline (1987): Contagious Disease and the Scope of “Handicap”

The next landmark case speaks directly to schools. In School Board of Nassau County v. Arline, 480 U.S. 273 (1987), Gene Arline was an elementary school teacher in Florida who had tuberculosis. After multiple relapses of TB, the school board terminated her employment, not because of misconduct or inability to teach, but out of fear that she might be contagious to others. Arline sued under Section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act, alleging she was fired “solely by reason of…her handicap.” The legal questions were: Is a contagious disease considered a “handicap” (disability) under the law? And if so, was Arline qualified to continue teaching, or did the risk of contagion make her unqualified?

The Supreme Court answered with a resounding affirmation of protection, coupled with a common-sense test for safety risks. First, it held that contagious diseases can qualify as disabilities, recognizing that discrimination often stems from irrational fears. The Court famously observed that society’s **“accumulated myths and fears about disability and disease are as handicapping as are the physical limitations that flow from actual impairment”**. In other words, prejudice and panic, like exaggerated fear of catching TB in this case, can be just as damaging as the disability itself. This powerful statement underscored Congress’s intent that the law confront not just literal barriers, but also attitudinal barriers.

Second, the Court set out how to determine if someone with a contagious condition is “otherwise qualified” for their job. Instead of letting employers act on fear, courts must conduct an individualized inquiry based on medical evidence. Justice Brennan’s opinion outlined factors to consider: the nature, duration, and severity of the risk, and the probability of transmission of the disease. Only after weighing those factors should an employer decide if the risk is significant enough that no reasonable accommodation can mitigate it. This became known as the “direct threat” analysis, which was later codified in the ADA regulations. In Arline, the Supreme Court sent it back to the lower court to apply this test with proper findings, instead of assuming that any TB relapse made her unqualified. The implication for educational institutions is that if a staff member has a condition that might pose a health or safety risk, ranging from contagious illness to a physical impairment that could cause harm, the administrator must not reflexively fire or exclude them. Rather, the law demands a careful, case-by-case assessment, ideally deferring to “reasoned and medically sound judgments” over fears. Arline thus taught educational employers to replace “fearful, reflexive reactions with…reasoned” decisions. For example, if a teacher is HIV-positive or has another condition people irrationally fear, an employer must base any employment action on real medical knowledge and consider accommodations, such as reassignments or precautions, before removing the person.

Arline also expanded the definition of disability (then often termed “handicap”) to include not only obvious physical impairments but also diseases that evoke stigma. It also introduced the principle that reasonable accommodations and adjustments should be considered even for health-related risks. A school board might need to allow an immunocompromised teacher to wear a mask or take occasional health leave, or temporarily reassign a teacher with a contagious condition, rather than terminate employment outright. In sum, Arline reinforced that people with disabilities (including health conditions) have a right to be judged on their *actual abilities and risks* after reasonable accommodations, not on prejudice or worst-case assumptions.

The Americans with Disabilities Act of 1990: A New Era

Despite not being a court case, no discussion of seminal disability law is complete without the ADA itself. Enacted in 1990, the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) extended protections to the private sector and state/local governments, far beyond the reach of the Rehabilitation Act which covered only entities receiving federal funds. Title I of the ADA deals specifically with employment discrimination. For the first time, private schools, large private universities, education companies, and other private employers with 15+ employees were prohibited from discriminating on the basis of disability. Public schools and state colleges, already covered by Section 504 if they took federal funds, now had parallel (and in some cases broader) obligations under ADA Title I and Title II. The ADA largely incorporated the ideas of Section 504. Indeed, Congress drew the ADA’s definition of “disability” almost verbatim from the Rehab Act and even cited the Arline decision in legislative history. The core mandate is that employers must provide reasonable accommodations to qualified individuals with disabilities, unless doing so would cause undue hardship, which refers to significant difficulty or expense for the employer (42 U.S.C. § 12112(b)(5)(A)). Also, the ADA forbids using selection criteria or methods that screen out people with disabilities unless they are job-related and necessary.

For educational administrators, the ADA’s enactment meant that disability rights in employment became a mainstream concern. A private prep school with 50 staff could no longer say, “We’re not federally funded, so we don’t have to accommodate a teacher with multiple sclerosis.” Under ADA, they do, assuming no undue hardship. Likewise, a large public university had an additional avenue of liability (Title I via the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission (EEOC) enforcement) on top of Section 504. The ADA also explicitly protected employees from retaliation and from discrimination based on “association” (e.g., if an administrator’s child is disabled, the school can’t fire the administrator due to fears of insurance costs).

Two concepts especially relevant to educational institutions were clarified by the ADA: essential functions and reasonable accommodation. Borrowing from cases like Davis, the law and regulations define essential functions as the fundamental job duties of the position, instead of marginal tasks. For instance, an essential function of a classroom teacher is to deliver instruction and manage the class; being able to physically stand for an entire class period might not be “essential” if the teaching can be done with accommodations like a stool or podium. Reasonable accommodations under ADA can include making existing facilities accessible, job restructuring, part-time or modified schedules, acquiring adaptive equipment, providing interpreters or readers, granting leaves of absence, or reassigning the person to a vacant equivalent position, among other measures (see 42 U.S.C. § 12111(9)). Importantly, an employee generally must inform the employer of the need for an accommodation, and then the employer must engage in an “interactive process” to figure out a suitable accommodation. This collaborative process isn’t spelled out in the original ADA text but evolved through EEOC guidance and case law: both the employer and employee have roles in discussing limitations and potential accommodations.

Sutton, Toyota, and the Narrowing of “Disability” (1999–2002)

Despite the ADA’s broad goals, a trio of late-1990s Supreme Court decisions significantly narrowed who was considered “disabled” under the law, which in turn reduced ADA’s protections until Congress later responded.

In Sutton v. United Air Lines, Inc., 527 U.S. 471 (1999), and companion cases (Murphy v. UPS and Albertson’s Inc. v. Kirkingburg decided the same year), the Supreme Court ruled that when determining if someone has a “disability”, which was defined as a physical or mental impairment that substantially limits a major life activity, one must consider mitigating measures the person uses. Sutton involved twin sisters who dreamed of being airline pilots but were rejected due to severe myopia (nearsightedness) that was correctable to 20/20 with glasses. The airline didn’t consider them “disabled” because with glasses they functioned normally. The Supreme Court agreed: since their impairment was corrected, it did not “substantially limit” their seeing. Similarly, in Murphy (a truck driver with high blood pressure controlled by medication) and Kirkingburg (a monocular vision truck driver whose brain adapted), the Court found no disability once mitigating measures were accounted for. The result was many individuals who manage their conditions (with medication, devices, prosthetics, etc.) were no longer protected by ADA. Administrators are no longer legally required under federal law to engage in the interactive accommodation process or to provide reasonable accommodations. Although it reduces formal legal exposure under the ADA, it does not create a governance vacuum.

Then in Toyota Motor Mfg., Ky. v. Williams, 534 U.S. 184 (2002), the Court further tightened the standard. Ella Williams, a factory worker, developed repetitive stress injuries that limited use of her arms. The Court held that to be substantially limiting, an impairment must prevent or severely restrict activities that are of “central importance to most people’s daily lives,” and the impact must be permanent or long-term. Williams’ inability to perform certain manual manufacturing tasks did not qualify because those specific tasks were not fundamental to daily life for an average person. This standard meant that many impairments in a work context, such as moderate carpal tunnel syndrome, or a partial lifting restriction wouldn’t count as disabilities unless they also heavily impacted life outside of work.

These decisions meant that some employees lost ADA protection if their conditions were corrected or not severe enough by these strict measures. For example, a teacher with diabetes controlled by insulin, or a professor with hearing loss corrected by a hearing aid, might have been deemed not disabled under ADA as interpreted by Sutton. Administrators might have been tempted to deny accommodations by arguing the person isn’t “truly” disabled under the law. However, it’s worth noting that it is better to erred on the side of flexibility. After all, whether or not the ADA legally compelled an accommodation, providing one could be relatively low-cost and keep a valued employee productive. Nonetheless, many ADA claims were thrown out of court on the threshold issue that the plaintiff wasn’t “disabled enough” to qualify.

Board of Trustees of the University of Alabama v. Garrett (2001): State Sovereign Immunity in ADA Cases

Although Sutton and Toyota dealt with who is disabled, Board of Trustees of Univ. of Alabama v. Garrett, 531 U.S. 356 (2001), dealt with who can be sued under the ADA. It had direct impact on public education employers. In Garrett, two plaintiffs, including Patricia Garrett who was a nursing director at a state university hospital, sued the University of Alabama for money damages under ADA Title I, claiming their state employer had discriminated against them because of their disabilities. Garrett had breast cancer; the other plaintiff had asthma. The Supreme Court, in a 5–4 decision, held that States are immune from private lawsuits for money damages under ADA Title I, due to the Eleventh Amendment and sovereign immunity principles. In plain terms, an employee cannot sue a state (or an arm of the state, like a state university or state agency) for money for ADA employment discrimination.

This ruling hinged on constitutional law: Congress can override state immunity only when exercising certain powers, like enforcing the Fourteenth Amendment. The Court found that when Congress passed ADA Title I, it hadn’t demonstrated a pattern of unconstitutional discrimination by states at the level required to waive immunity. Thus, while private sector and local government employers remained fully liable for damages under ADA, state employers got a special shield. For education, this means public universities, as state entities, and possibly state-run school districts or agencies cannot be forced to pay damages in ADA Title I lawsuits by employees. A Georgia public university, for example, could invoke Garrett to get a money-damages suit dismissed.

However, *Garrett* did not leave state employees entirely without recourse. The Court acknowledged that under a prior doctrine, Ex parte Young, individuals can still sue state officials for prospective relief. So, an employee can still ask a court to order a state college to reinstate them or provide an accommodation, just not money damages. For instance, if a qualified teacher with a disability is wrongfully terminated by a state school, she could sue for reinstatement and accommodation (an injunction) but not back pay or damages under ADA.

Many public schools and universities receive federal funding, so Section 504 applies. Congress, through the Rehabilitation Act Amendments of 1986, made acceptance of federal funds a waiver of Eleventh Amendment immunity for Section 504 claims. Thus, a state university employee can sue under Rehabilitation Act Section 504 for both injunctive relief and damages, including back pay. Taking federal education funds means the state waived immunity. In practical terms, savvy plaintiffs often add a Section 504 claim mirroring the ADA claim. One caveat is that the standards under ADA and 504 are largely the same for employment, but a plaintiff must show the employer receives federal funds to use 504.)

After Garrett, some states enacted their own disability discrimination laws or allowed state-law damages claims. Georgia, however, did not fully do so. Georgia’s disability employment statute (O.C.G.A § 34-6A-4) prohibits intentional discrimination in hiring, firing, and terms of employment, but notably does not require employers to provide accommodations or to modify facilities. The Georgia code explicitly says it shall not be construed to mandate physical alterations or higher caution for persons with disabilities. In other words, unlike the ADA, the Georgia law provides no affirmative duty to accommodate. Additionally, Georgia’s law does not permit private lawsuits for damages by most employees. It's more a statement of policy with limited enforcement mechanisms. Thus, Garrett’s effect in Georgia has been especially acute: state-employed educators must rely on federal law, such as Section 504 or ADA injunctive relief, rather than any robust state remedy.

The ADA Amendments Act of 2008(ADAAA): Restoring Broad Coverage

By the mid-2000s, it became clear that Sutton, Toyota, and their progeny had excluded many individuals that Congress originally intended to protect. In response, Congress overwhelmingly passed the ADA Amendments Act of 2008 (ADAAA), effective January 1, 2009. The ADAAA explicitly overruled the Sutton and Toyota line of cases and commanded that the ADA be interpreted broadly in favor of coverage. The legislative findings of the ADAAA stated that the Supreme Court’s interpretations had been unduly restrictive and that the intent was to revert to a more inclusive understanding of disability.

There are five key changes made by the ADAAA that are highly relevant to educational employers. First, mitigating measures must be ignored. ADAAA says determining if someone is disabled should be done “without regard to the ameliorative effects of mitigating measures”* (except ordinary eyeglasses). So, a teacher with epilepsy is considered on the basis of her condition untreated (i.e., she is disabled if without medication her epilepsy would substantially limit a major life activity), even if medication controls it. A professor with diabetes, an administrator with PTSD who uses coping strategies, or an employee with hearing loss using a cochlear implant all count as having a disability if the underlying condition is limiting. This directly overturned Sutton. For administrators, the practical implication is: don’t dismiss an accommodation request or discrimination complaint on the theory that “Well, your condition is fixed now.” Even well-managed impairments usually qualify, which is the safety net Congress intended.

Second, the ADAAA provided a non-exhaustive list of major life activities, including not just obvious physical actions like walking, seeing, hearing, but also activities like reading, concentrating, and major bodily functions, such as immune system, neurological function. Learning and communicating are on the list, which is pertinent in education settings. Importantly for educational institutions, thinking and concentrating are recognized, meaning conditions like ADHD or dyslexia in an employee can be disabilities if they substantially limit the person’s ability to think or read relative to most people. Even if the individual is high-performing academically, the comparison is to the general population’s ease of performing the activity).

Third, the definition of “substantially limits” is relaxed. The ADAAA told the EEOC to redefine “substantially limits” consistent with a broader scope. The regulations now say it’s “not meant to be a demanding standard” and generally an impairment will meet it if it “substantially limits the ability of an individual to perform a major life activity as compared to most people in the general population.” It need not prevent or significantly restrict the activity, contrary to Toyota’s language. The focus in ADA cases, Congress said, should be on whether discrimination occurred, not an onerous analysis of disability. For administrators, this means when an employee discloses a condition and asks for an accommodation, the employer should usually not spend much energy arguing over whether it “counts” as a disability. Instead, the focus should be on accommodating unless it’s unreasonable or undue hardship.

Fourth, episodic conditions and remission are covered. If a condition like multiple sclerosis or bipolar disorder is in remission or only active intermittently, it still qualifies if it would substantially limit a major life activity when active. This addresses illnesses that flare up, such as a teacher’s lupus that might only sometimes impede her, or a professor’s cancer in remission, they are protected.

Fifth, ADAAA broadened “regarded as” prong. Under ADAAA, an employee can meet the definition of disability if they were subjected to an adverse action because of an actual or perceived impairment, whether or not that impairment is limiting, with an exception for minor/transitory issues. The individual doesn’t have to prove the employer perceived the impairment as substantially limiting, reversing earlier strict interpretations. For example, if an employer refuses to hire an applicant because of a mild limp, assuming they “must have health problems,” the applicant can sue under ADA’s “regarded as disabled” prong even if the limp wasn’t actually disabling. This change, which explicitly referenced the Arline case’s broad view of perceived disability, reinforced that biases and stereotypes are prohibited, even if the person isn’t truly limited.

The ADAAA was a game-changer that restored the ADA’s reach. After 2009, many more employees can clear the hurdle of being “disabled” under the law. Data from the EEOC show a rise in ADA charges after the ADAAA, which indicated more people bringing claims who previously might have been excluded. For educational institutions, the ADAAA essentially says: assume the person is covered if they have any non-trivial impairment. This simplifies an administrator’s job. You no longer need to be an amateur diagnostician deciding if someone’s condition is severe enough to count. In practice, it is usually safer, and legally required, to proceed to the accommodation stage. If a librarian has anxiety disorder and requests schedule changes as accommodation, you discuss how to help; you don’t quibble that her anxiety isn’t “substantial” enough.

Let's summarize the **seminal cases and statutes**. Starting with Arline and Davis, we learned the importance of individual assessment and not letting myths dictate decisions. The ADA brought a comprehensive mandate of non-discrimination and reasonable accommodation into everyday employment, including in schools and colleges. The late 90s Sutton/Toyota era briefly limited coverage, but the ADAAA corrected course to ensure protection for a wide range of disabilities. And in Garrett, the Supreme Court carved out state immunity, reminding us that public institutions may use different legal channels, like Section 504, but still have to meet the substantive requirements of ADA. Each of these developments set the stage for how disability discrimination issues play out in educational workplaces today.

Recent Developments & Controversies

The COVID-19 Pandemic and Remote Work as an Accommodation

The COVID-19 crisis of 2020–2022 forced schools and universities into remote operations and brought the issue of telework as a reasonable accommodation to the forefront. Before the pandemic, courts often deferred to employers’ judgment that being physically present was an essential function of most jobs. But when almost all teaching went online in 2020, it became evident that many educational jobs could be done remotely, at least for a short period of time, without sacrificing outcomes. As schools transitioned back to in-person, some employees who had disabilities affecting their immune system, or other conditions that made them especially vulnerable to COVID, requested continued remote work or other protections as accommodations.

One illustrative case is Oross v. Kutztown University (E.D. Pa. 2023). Oross was a tenured professor who had a disability affecting his immune system. In Fall 2021, as Kutztown University, a public university in Pennsylvania, returned to in-person classes, Oross asked to teach online because contracting COVID-19 could pose a severe risk to his health. The university denied the request flat-out, mandating that all faculty teach in-person. Oross took medical leave to avoid exposure and sued under Section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act, as the university, a state entity, was subject to 504 and also possibly avoiding ADA Title I damages due to Garrett. In early 2024, the court ruled in favor of the professor, issuing a summary judgment that the university had violated the Rehabilitation Act by failing to accommodate him.

The court’s reasoning in Oross is instructive for a few reasons. First, the university argued that teaching in-person was an essential function of a professor’s job. The court disagreed, noting that during 2020 all classes had been taught online successfully, and that nothing inherent in the content of Oross’s job required physical presence. It concluded that “teaching in-person and conducting in-person office hours are not essential functions of the job” of a professor generally, if the classes can be effectively taught remotely. This finding was context-specific, as another discipline or younger grade level might differ. However, it pushes administrators to carefully distinguish tradition from true “essential function.” Is face-to-face interaction truly essential for delivering a lecture or holding office hours? In Oross’s case, the answer was no: remote methods could achieve the educational purpose.

Second, the university claimed that allowing one professor to teach remotely while others taught in-person would fundamentally change its course offerings or student experience. The court found this was a pretext, which was essentially an unfounded excuse. Importantly, the court highlighted that the university refused to individually assess Professor Oross’s situation, and instead imposed a blanket rule denying all remote requests. This blanket denial was the undoing of the university’s defense: under disability law, employers must evaluate each accommodation request on its own merits. An across-the-board policy, such as “no remote work for anyone”, will not hold if it prevents the case-by-case “reasonable accommodations” analysis.

In Oross, the judge granted judgment for Oross on discrimination and failure-to-accommodate claims, effectively ruling that the university should have let him teach online or found some compromise, for example, perhaps teaching a different section that was online, or swapping assignments with another faculty. The court even found the university’s strict “full-duty release” policy, which required 100% in-person or else be on leave, to be an interference with Oross’s ADA/504 rights.

For administrators, the Oross case signals that remote work can be a reasonable accommodation in education, at least under some circumstances. Pre-pandemic, an administrator might have reflexively thought “teaching = in person.” Post-pandemic, that assumption must be re-examined. Now, does this mean any teacher can demand to teach from home whenever they want? No. The accommodation still has to be reasonable and not unduly disruptive. If students genuinely need in-person supervision (e.g., a kindergarten teacher or a biology lab instructor where physical presence is more tied to the pedagogy, the employer can argue remote work isn’t a reasonable accommodation in that context. But if the past years have shown that certain courses or tasks can be done remotely effectively, an administrator faced with an immunocompromised or otherwise at-risk employee should weigh those options seriously. A possible middle-ground might be hybrid arrangements or reassignment to duties that can be done online. The key legal lesson: be flexible and individualized. The pandemic proved that many jobs in education can adapt; therefore, a court might view an outright refusal to consider remote work as lacking good faith.

Beyond immunocompromised persons, COVID-19 also raised issues about Long COVID as a disability, and accommodations like adjusted schedules for those experiencing fatigue or brain fog. The EEOC has recognized Long COVID can qualify as a disability under ADA/504. Employers are now dealing with employees who have lingering post-COVID conditions. An administrator should treat these like any other disability request: engage in interactive process, get medical documentation if needed about limitations, and accommodate if reasonable, perhaps with flexible sick leave usage, part-time transitions, or modified duties temporarily.

The enduring controversy is figuring out when remote work is appropriate as a long-term accommodation. Some management attorneys worry that too broad an allowance undermines job expectations; disability advocates counter that if the work gets done, physical presence fetishism shouldn’t trump safety and inclusion. Courts like in Oross are siding with a balanced view: consider remote work earnestly, deny it only with specific justification (e.g., “lab experiments cannot be supervised through a screen” or “young children need in-person guidance”), not with generalizations.

What Constitutes an ADA Violation? The Adverse Action Debate (Circuit Split)

If an employer fails to accommodate an employee’s disability, is that alone a violation of the ADA, or must the employee also experience an additional adverse employment action, such as being fired or losing pay, to sue? This seemingly technical legal question has practical implications for administrators: it affects how liability is determined and how proactively employers must respond to accommodation requests before things escalate.

There is currently a split among U.S. federal courts on this issue. The majority view held by most circuits is that the failure to provide a reasonable accommodation in itself is an act of unlawful discrimination, regardless of whether the employer also took a separate adverse action like termination. Under this view, the denial of a needed accommodation is tantamount to denying equal employment opportunity, which is exactly what the ADA forbids. For instance, if a college refuses to permit a dyslexic administrator extra time to complete certain paperwork and that accommodation was reasonable and needed, the administrator can claim discrimination even if they haven’t been demoted or lost pay yet, as the harm is the denial of accommodation.

However, the Eleventh Circuit, which covers Georgia, Alabama, Florida, takes a stricter stance. In a 2023 decision, Beasley v. O’Reilly Auto Parts (11th Cir. 2023), the court reaffirmed its rule that an employee must show an adverse employment action resulting from the failure to accommodate in order to have a viable ADA claim. In Beasley, the plaintiff was a deaf warehouse worker who wasn’t provided an interpreter for meetings or adequate communication, and as a result he missed information and got written up for attendance issues. The Eleventh Circuit found that because these failures arguably led to lower performance ratings and disciplinary actions, which affected his pay and status, he could proceed with his claim. But the court explicitly stated the rule: “failure to provide reasonable accommodations under the ADA is actionable only if such failure negatively impacts the employee’s hiring, advancement, discharge, compensation, training, or other terms, conditions, and privileges of employment.” In plain English, in states like Georgia, a teacher or staff member must show that the lack of accommodation caused a tangible harm, such as not getting a promotion, or having to quit, or some material disadvantage, to win an ADA case.

This Eleventh Circuit position deepened a circuit split, because other circuits, such as the Seventh, Nineth, and Tenth Circuits, have said the opposite. Being denied a reasonable accommodation is itself a discriminatory act. The Tenth Circuit, for example, in Exby-Stolley v. Boulder County (2019) explicitly held no adverse action is required.

In the Second Circuit, a notable recent case is Tudor v. Whitehall School District (2025). Angel Tudor, a high school math teacher with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), worked for Whitehall Central School District, NY, for approximately 20 years. Tudor had post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), and requested an accommodation: a guaranteed 15-minute break each afternoon, during which she could step away from class to manage stress and prevent PTSD episodes. She had been receiving this accommodation for years informally and another staff member would cover her class briefly. However, a new administrator questioned it. The teacher acknowledged that even without the break, she could still perform her teaching duties, but “under great duress and harm” to her mental well-being. The school district denied the accommodation going forward, essentially saying if she can do the job, no accommodation is needed. A district court initially sided with the school district, but on appeal the Second Circuit vacated that ruling.

The Second Circuit’s opinion clarified ADA obligations. The court held that an employee does not need to prove an accommodation is absolutely essential to performing essential job functions, only that it is reasonable and would enable them to do the job without undue hardship. The court stated, “accommodations that are not strictly necessary for an employee’s performance of essential functions may still be reasonable and therefore required by the ADA.” In Tudor's case, she could soldier through the day without the break, but at great psychological cost. It did not mean the school was free to refuse the break. The ADA’s aim is not to make employees with disabilities choose between their health and their job performance, but to reconcile the two through reasonable adjustments.

Why is this significant for educational administrators? Because many accommodations fall into this category of improving circumstances rather than enabling bare-minimum capability. Under the reasoning of Tudor, and the ADAAA’s broad mandate, the accommodations should be given if they are reasonable and don’t impose undue hardship, because they allow the employee to perform optimally and safely. An administrator should not say, “You’re doing fine without it, so we won’t grant it.” Instead, the focus is on whether the accommodation facilitates equal employment opportunity. In Tudor, a 15-minute break is minor and was found likely to be a reasonable accommodation for PTSD, subject to an undue hardship analysis on remand. The school can try to argue it’s an undue hardship, but given they managed it for years, that’s a tough sell.

The Tudor case also underscores the importance of engaging with mental health disabilities on par with physical ones. PTSD, anxiety, depression, and similar conditions are increasingly prevalent and have gained recognition as disabilities requiring accommodations (e.g., schedule changes, break time, remote work days for therapy appointments, etc.). Educational institutions should ensure their HR and leadership treat mental health accommodation requests seriously and without stigma. Tudor helps by providing a judicially approved rationale: even if someone can “get by,” the ADA entitles them to an accommodation that makes their work sustainable and accessible in the long run.

Finally, note how Tudor contrasts with Beasley v. O’Reilly Auto Parts. If Tudor were in Georgia (Eleventh Circuit), and suppose the school gave her the break for years then stopped, but she continued working without an immediate adverse action, the Eleventh Circuit might say she doesn’t yet have a claim unless she, say, collapsed or took unpaid leave (tangible harm). In New York (Second Circuit), denial of the break itself is enough to sue. This discrepancy again highlights the unsettled nature of the law.