Like it or not, all too often, it is disabled people raising the issue of inclusion. This usually happens because we know what it feels like to be excluded. Not being included or considered can happen unintentionally, even among our friends and family. I would argue it happens even more among our friends and family because they are so used to being around us and accepting our disability unconditionally they no longer see us as disabled. Now, on the surface, this seems like a good thing. And in many ways, it is. But there is a downside too. They don't consider our disabilities' impact on our ability to participate in group activities fully. Particularly among a large group of non-disabled persons.

How these situations are approached and navigated can drastically alter -- positively or negatively-- the experience for both the disabled and non-disabled. However, I assert that lack of access or inclusion often gets left to the disabled person to deal with. This exclusion can cause a lot of unnecessary stress and potentially hurt feelings.

So with this week being Thanksgiving here in the United States, which officially kicks off our holiday season, I wanted to address the topic of inclusion during the holidays. How disabled people can ask for it, help facilitate it, and hopefully, have the most welcoming and accessible outcome possible. Because I believe everyone deserves to have a happy holiday.

Step one: Communication

The first step to making a holiday event more inclusive is communication. It is never wise to assume that someone else knows how a disabled person thinks or feels, even with family members. While the ties that bind can run deep, no one truly knows someone else's lived experience other than themself.

When I am invited somewhere, I try to get as many details about the event as possible ahead of time—the location, schedule of events, menu, etc. If it is somewhere I have never been, I ask for measurements of doorways and if there are steps. Will it be a sit-down dinner or a more casual buffet-style? With there be entertainment like games or a movie? What is the parking situation?

Getting answers to these kinds of questions can help a disabled person know if they need to bring a portable ramp, a food offering they know they can eat, or maybe even a non-disabled companion to assist them with navigating the premises or just feeling more included.

I think these conversations are critical because they open up areas of dialogue perhaps left silent for too long. As a disabled person, I need to feel confident to express what I need, want and expect of my host(s). We all have the right to feel welcomed into a safe space where we can participate as fully or less fully as we choose-- and most importantly, with dignity.

Step 2: Planning

While communication is undoubtedly a step in the planning process, there is more to do beyond that. Whether the holiday event is next door or further away, how a disabled person needs to prepare will differ. You probably won't need an overnight bag to go next door, but packing for a trip is another situation.

For a disabled person, however, some logistics will be the same for either distance, near or far. For example, I always bring things that I can't commonly get anywhere else and are unique to my mobility, health, and independence. These are things like medications, mobility aids, special foods, equipment or accessibility tools, and maybe even an additional set of clothing.

I also think it is important to consider how the holiday festivities correlate to my regular routine. I don't employ a caregiver, but I have friends who do. The schedule of their caregivers somewhat limits their plan. Also, if dinner isn't served until 8, but I need to eat at 6, I'll need to make sure I can eat a snack to tie me over. If my morning routine kicks off at 6 a.m, I might not want to stay for the post-dessert toasts. It's all specifics to be considered.

Closing

In closing, I also want to ask anyone hosting an event and inviting disabled friends or family members to take an intentional few moments to think about what they might need— from the disabled person’s perspective. That, I believe, is where true inclusion begins. If you're not sure, don't be afraid to ask. Again, a lot of this comes down to communication, normalizing, understanding and not just assuming.

Please trust me when I say we, the disabled, are not trying to make life more difficult for our non-disabled hosts. We don't expect them to rip out their stair-cases or accommodate our every last specific need, particularly at the expense of the majority in attendance. All we want is to be thoughtfully included as much as possible. For example, while we may not be able to access your bathroom, could you at least roll up your area rugs, so they don't get caught on our wheelchair?

Inclusion is quite the buzzword right now, particularly in progressive social justice circles. I don't want to see it relegated to those only those spaces. Inclusion HAS to start at home. If it can't exist at home, how can it truly be anywhere else-- especially during the holidays?

For disabled people who have ever felt excluded within their own family, I am here to say I know how that feels. I also know that even though I am loved, sometimes love isn't enough. My life experience is worthy of access and participation. I do not need fixing, explaining, consolation or "good enough." What I need can’t be wrapped up in a bow or served on a dinner plate. What I need is a space where I feel seen, safe, comfortable and included. I don't think that is too much to ask, during the holidays, or ever.