Chris Rogerson
As a senior accessibility staff member, Chris Rogerson became a key gatekeeper in MRU’s disability support system — rerouting communication, obstructing student access, and consolidating control in ways that directly harmed those he was tasked to protect.
What Happened
Chris Rogerson currently operates as a controlling figure within MRU’s accessibility services and student affairs. Rather than assist vulnerable students, he has consolidated communication, rerouted disability support, and built a bottleneck of administrative power that now protects the institution — not the people it claims to serve.
This page documents how Chris used his position to override staff, silence disabled students, and manage the optics of MRU’s systemic failures. Staff are audibly afraid on the phone. Students are blocked from direct contact with their case workers. And the man at the center of it all — Chris — is now being recorded, quoted, and made publicly known.
Gatekeeping as Control Strategy
- Forced Rerouting: MRU accessibility staff were told to reroute all communication through Chris Rogerson.
- Case Worker Blocked: I was denied access to my own assigned case worker — something no student should ever experience.
- Implication: This is a deliberate effort to limit transparency, centralize power, and control narrative flow. That’s not accessibility — that’s obstruction.
Staff Fear & Emotional Coercion
"He sounded scared to even talk to me. That’s not on me — that’s workplace fear baked in from above."
During a recent call, a student staff member’s voice was trembling — audibly shaken just from speaking to me. He seemed terrified. That wasn’t from me. That’s workplace fear, baked in from above. If your presence as a manager causes visible anxiety in your staff, you’re not a leader — you’re a bully in a chair.
If we find out Chris Rogerson has been intimidating or threatening his own coworkers, this page will triple in size. And it will no longer just be a report — it’ll be a full investigative log.
Gaslighting Disabled Students
I disclosed that I’m autistic. Instead of accommodating that, Chris and his office attempted to play memory games. “Don’t you remember her name? That was just last week!” No — I speak to a hundred people a day. Names blur. I’m neurodivergent.
Using memory recall as a credibility test is textbook gaslighting. When you do it to a disabled person, you’re not just being dismissive — you’re being harmful.
“If your first instinct is to gaslight someone you know is disabled, you're not a helper — you're a threat with a name badge.”
Performative Advocacy, Real Harm
When I pointed out this behavior, their response wasn’t to fix it — it was to get offended. Sarah, a staff member under this umbrella, got mad that I referred to them as “you guys.” Apparently, acknowledging shared institutional behavior is now offensive.
That’s the heart of performative advocacy: more upset about tone than harm. These people aren’t supporting students — they’re supporting each other, emotionally, while students drown.
“When your job is student advocacy, but your values stop at the enrollment office, you’re not an advocate — you’re just pretending to care.”
This Is a Public Record
This page is part of a growing documentation campaign against abusive, performative, and harmful staff within Canadian postsecondary institutions. Every quote, name, and incident here is real. If you are staff and wish to contribute a statement about Chris Rogerson’s conduct, you may do so through the secure form at formant.ca/contact.
This is not harassment. This is not defamation. This is documentation — and it’s protected.