Earning a mechanical engineering degree from École Polytechnique de Montréal is a brutal test of endurance. It takes long hours, advanced math, and endless nights of intense focus.
Now try doing that while managing autism spectrum disorder and ADHD.
Victor Bal just pulled it off. When he walked across the stage to collect his hard-earned degree, he wasn't alone. Walking right next to him was Kopeck, his eight-year-old Labrador/Bernese Mountain Dog cross. She didn't just show up for the photos either. She attended every single lecture, lab, and exam right by his side.
This isn't just a feel-good story about a loyal dog. It's a massive milestone for neurodivergent education. Bal is 27 years old, and he's one of the very first Canadians to go from childhood to a university graduation with the help of an autism service dog.
The Real Power of a Passive Partner
Most people see a service dog and assume they're constantly performing cinematic rescue maneuvers. That's not how it works. Kopeck’s job during a complex engineering lecture is mostly to just be there. Her presence provides a steady sensory anchor in an environment that can easily become overwhelming.
When you have autism and ADHD, a crowded lecture hall can feel like a direct assault on your senses. Fluorescent lights buzz. Dozens of people whisper, shift in their seats, and click pens. For Bal, writing, focusing, and managing hyperactivity are daily battles.
Kopeck is trained by Quebec's Mira Foundation to act as an emotional circuit breaker. She watches for the subtle physical signs of escalating stress that Bal might not even notice himself.
When those stress levels spike, she acts.
- She nudges his arm with her wet nose.
- She leans her weight against his legs.
- She makes specific quiet noises to break his spiraling thoughts.
It's a simple disruption, but it forces his brain to reset. It brings him back to the present moment so he can focus on fluid mechanics or structural design instead of panic. Bal describes her as his shield and sword to face the world. She gave him the tools to step out of isolation and show up as the greatest version of himself.
Why True Independence Requires Interdependence
People often misunderstand the goal of accessibility. They think a tool or a service animal is a crutch that keeps a student dependent. The reality is exactly the opposite.
Before Bal received his first service dog at age 12, he struggled to pass basic elementary school classes. The world felt too chaotic to navigate. Ironically, learning to care for an animal taught him how to care for himself.
As a child, he admitted he was careless when crossing busy streets. He simply didn't look. But when his first Mira dog arrived, his perspective flipped completely. He suddenly felt a fierce need to protect the dog from getting hurt. To keep the dog safe, he had to look both ways. He had to be aware of his surroundings.
By learning to protect his dog, he learned to value his own safety. Loving the dog taught him how to love himself. It's a beautiful contradiction. Needing help didn't make him weak; it unlocked his ability to work hard and survive in a rigid academic system.
The Long Hard Road Through Higher Education
Let's be completely honest about what it takes to graduate from a top-tier engineering school. The average student finishes a bachelor's degree in four years. Bal took a different path, and he’s fiercely proud of it.
His academic journey wasn't a sprint.
- He spent six years navigating high school.
- He took four years to complete junior college (CEGEP).
- He dedicated five intense years to his bachelor's degree at Polytechnique.
It takes more time, but he did it. That's the only thing that matters.
In a university culture that often prioritizes speed and perfection over actual learning, Bal's fifteen-year journey through the academic pipeline is a masterclass in resilience. He didn't let a rigid timeline dictate his worth. He adapted, put in the hours, and pushed through the burnout that claims so many neurodivergent students.
Moving Past Simple Accommodations
Polytechnique Montréal recently celebrated its 150th graduating class. Out of more than 2,100 graduates this semester, Bal and Kopeck became absolute legends on campus. Faculty, staff, and students all knew them by name.
But their presence did something much bigger than just boosting school spirit. They forced the institution to evolve.
University accessibility services often rely on invisible accommodations. Students get extra time on exams, quiet rooms, or digital note-taking tools. Those are great, but they keep disability hidden away in the margins. A large, fluffy dog sitting in the front row of an engineering lab forces a public conversation.
At first, professors and peers had questions. It wasn't normal to see a dog in a high-tech lab environment. But over five years, Bal and Kopeck normalized the reality of neurodivergent professionals.
Campus accessibility officials noted that Bal succeeded because he intimately understood his own limits and refused to apologize for them. He worked alongside advisors to map out exactly what he needed to succeed. Because Polytechnique embraced this visible form of support, they are now fully prepared for the next student who walks through their doors with a service animal.
The Shift From Classroom to Workplace
Graduation is over, the degree is secured, and the celebrating is done. Now comes the next real challenge. Bal is currently job hunting, with his sights set on officially joining Quebec's order of engineers (Ordre des ingénieurs du Québec).
The transition from a supportive university environment to the corporate workforce is notoriously difficult for neurodivergent adults. The corporate world doesn't always have a clear framework for service animals in the office or on a job site.
If you are an employer looking to make your workplace genuinely accessible for individuals with autism or ADHD, you don't need to reinvent the wheel. You can take immediate action by shifting your mindset.
Focus on Deliverables Not Design
Judge an employee by the quality of their code, their calculations, or their designs. Don't judge them by how long they can sit perfectly still in a rolling chair without fidgeting.
Normalize Visible Support
If an employee needs a service dog, noise-canceling headphones, or a modified schedule to manage sensory overload, treat it with the same casual acceptance you would show to someone wearing prescription glasses.
Create Clear Sensory Decompression Zones
Just like Kopeck gets her harness removed so she can run around and chase sticks in the grass, neurodivergent employees need spaces where they can step away from open-office noise to reset their brains.
Bal proved that when you give a brilliant mind the exact environment and support it needs, it can master the most complex challenges on earth. Kopeck will be right by his side during his job interviews, and whatever engineering firm hires them will be getting an absolute powerhouse of a team.
