We know you're not actually sorry
Accessibility is the difference between being inside the room and being left outside of it.
And I'm tired of being told to understand.
Tired of being asked for grace.
Tired of being told people are listening.
At some point, exclusion has to stop being considered acceptable.
That's what my latest article is about.
🔗 Link in bio or https://www.autostraddle.com/this-pride-disabled-lgbtq.../
Image 1:
Cream-colored graphic with rainbow stripes along the top and illustrations of raised hands holding various Pride flags at the bottom. Large blue text asks: "If nearly half of LGBTQ adults are disabled, why is accessibility at Pride still treated like a nice to have and not a necessity?"
Image 2:
Cream-colored poster with vertical rainbow stripes on the left and Pride-themed stickers. Large black text reads: "Accessibility isn't charity or generosity. It isn't going above and beyond. It's the absolute bare minimum for belonging."
Image 3:
Illustrated Pride scene featuring diverse LGBTQ people, including a wheelchair user and a person with a prosthetic leg, holding signs and flags. Large black text on a blue background reads: "Disabled LGBTQ women are less likely to feel connected to their communities than their non-disabled peers."
As someone deeply invested in both LGBTQ and disability advocacy, I’ve realized that the conversation around accessibility at Pride events often misses the mark. The fact that nearly half of LGBTQ adults identify as disabled yet continue to face barriers speaks volumes about the need for systemic change rather than temporary fixes or token gestures. Accessibility is frequently misunderstood as an act of charity, when in reality, it’s a fundamental right and a baseline requirement for inclusion and community-building. When events fail to provide ramps, braille materials, quiet spaces, or sign language interpreters, they inadvertently exclude a significant portion of the community they claim to celebrate. From personal experience, I know how alienating it feels to be in a space where accommodations are an afterthought. It’s not just about physical access but about emotional and social belonging. Disabled LGBTQ individuals often feel disconnected because their needs are sidelined, making Pride feel like a celebration from which they are excluded. True inclusion means consulting disabled community members from the start and integrating accessibility into the planning process—not adding it as an afterthought. It also means challenging organizers and participants to move beyond complacency and to recognize that accessibility is essential for equality. This approach not only benefits disabled individuals but also enriches the entire community by fostering authentic connections and shared experiences. Elevating accessibility from a “nice to have” to a non-negotiable reflects a commitment to justice and real progress within LGBTQ spaces. Ultimately, Pride should embody the spirit of inclusion in all its forms, ensuring everyone—regardless of physical ability—can fully participate, be seen, and feel valued.