Erik Schneider: A Pillar of Canisius University

By: Kira Rodriguez, Contributor 

*Author’s note: This is a condensed version of the full story. To read the full story, please visit https://medium.com/@authorkirarodriguez/a-pillar-of-canisius-university.

Nearly everyone at Canisius University knows Erik Schneider, and if they don’t, they will. Erik can be seen taking out the garbage, cleaning bathrooms and handing out fistbumps like candy on Halloween night. You can find him cleaning the bathrooms under the dining hall by the club rooms. He will say “hello,” and out of respect, you will say “hello” back. Then, you will quickly find yourself talking about your day with him while he listens and gives encouragement that makes the clouds above your head vanish, as if they were never there. 

From afar, Erik seems like every other maintenance worker. He does his job thoroughly, working hard to earn eighteen dollars an hour to clean for students, professors, guests and his coworkers, who may not understand why Erik does what he does. Taking a step further, you start to see who Erik is: a man who is no different from the rest of us and never claims to be anything other. A man who will always say hello when he sees you and call you his friend even though you have only talked once or twice. Behind all that is a man not all of us get to see, a man who has his own battles, yet supports others in their journeys. 

If you wish to give Erik a title, he is a first-shift housekeeper and a 2025 graduate of Canisius University. He is a member of the Lockport Toastmasters Club and a poet. Erik began working at Canisius in 2016, and since then, his circle of friends has grown. I asked a few people around campus to describe Erik in a word or two. One student said, “a light in the world,” and a Petey’s Pantry worker said, “He reminds me of Olaf the snowman… nice and jolly.” I asked Dr. Maura Snyder the same question, and she responded, “super positive, optimistic about the world, tenacious, sunshiny…” I had to stop her; she had so much to say. Erik is loved by many at Canisius, and for good reason. He is incredibly kind to others, has a cheerful attitude and is selfless. His personality and attitude have a long-lasting impact. Scott Reddinger, Erik’s social studies teacher from Lockport High School, still has his ninth and 10th-grade work, keeping it for over fifteen years. He often called Erik “old man,” a nickname Erik still laughs at to this day. 

I was sitting in Petey’s Pantry, talking to Caitlyn, one of the pantry workers, when Erik came in. She had come early for her shift after mine and was talking about vacuuming. Erik overheard. He popped his head in and said hello. He offered to vacuum the pantry before putting the vacuum back in the utility closet – cleaning Petey’s Pantry isn’t even in Erik’s job description. Once he was done vacuuming, he stayed and talked for a few minutes, sharing his words of encouragement. He asked Caitlyn what year she was and her major. He wished her luck and to keep up the good work, even though this was his first conversation with her. “I consider us friends. I consider everyone on campus my friends,” he said with his usual cheerful smile. 

I read Erik’s poem that he published in The Quadrangle in the spring of 2025. Erik’s poem “My Learning Disabled World” follows The Quadrangle’s 2025 theme, point of view. Erik’s poem about his disability left many readers, including myself, in silence as we stepped into Erik’s world for just a moment, a moment that is too short to understand who he is. His poem didn’t talk about the fact that he was diagnosed “globally slow” at the age of five or six, a term Erik hates. He prefers the term globally delayed. The poem doesn’t talk about how his parents tried their best to keep their promise that nothing was going to happen to him. The poem doesn’t talk about the fact that he had IEPs (individualized education programs) or his many CSE (committee on special education) meetings for special education.

His family worked hard and helped him a lot, especially his parents and siblings. His father worked as a New York state law enforcement officer for 23  years, and his mom was a certified nursing aid. As a student at Canisius, Erik had to take a math course that his older brother, Patrick, described as discrete math. Patrick is a chemistry professor at St. Bonaventure, and Erik, knowing his brother was good at math, turned to him for help. “He and math don't get along,” Patrick said, “but with his determination and my assistance, he managed to pass the course to graduate.” Patrick’s story about Erik barely touches on what Erik goes through daily. Erik wrote and published his poem, hoping more people would understand what he and many others go through. In most cases, Erik gets two different responses whenever he tells people that he has a learning disability. He told me many people say, “Oh, you don’t have a disability,” or they look down on him, seeing him as someone who can’t survive in this world on his own. “I wish people would understand what I go through all the time with a disability,” Erik told me, adding, “Yes, I know what’s right and what’s wrong. I know what I need to do. I have a car, I have an apartment… I know what I’m doing and to the best that I can.” 

Erik became a regular at the Canisius University Writing Center. Erik used the Writing Center often, not because he was struggling with the work, Dr. Graham Stowe explained, but because he was lacking confidence. Erik often utilized the resource for his English 111 course. He would come into the Writing Center with a paper, saying, “I don’t think I can do it,” and Dr. Stowe and other members of the Writing Center would say, “Yeah, you can.” Dr. Stowe and tutors of the writing center would sit and work with him. Sometimes it was two steps forward, one step back. “He’s had to overcome a lot of, not intelligence issues, but confidence issues,” Dr. Stowe began, continuing, “and it has been really amazing to watch over the years.”

There is so much more to a person than what meets the eye. We all know this, but most of us may not believe it. We may look at someone like Erik Schneider and believe their lives are simple, when in reality, they may be just the opposite. Erik is a pillar keeping Canisius standing, and a pillar needs support, a base to keep standing on. He doesn’t seek out attention, but rather looks for a base to stand on through friends, family, professors and colleagues. We all seek out support whether we mean to or not. Erik does so with a smile and a fist bump.

Eric Schneider Headshot via Kyra Laurie