Inclusion, particularly in the disability and NDIS space, has started to sound like a favour being done for people with disabilities.
You can hear it in the language: “We’re trying to include you.” “We want to make sure you’re looked after.” The tone is kind, but the framing is wrong. It places people with disabilities in a passive position, recipients of goodwill, rather than as equal participants in a shared society.
The problem with this is subtle but significant. When inclusion is treated as generosity, it creates a quiet hierarchy: those who grant inclusion and those who receive it. And hierarchies always carry consequences. They shape how we allocate time, space, and opportunity.
In the disability sector, this hierarchy shows up in how people with disabilities are expected to be available for services rather than for work. Many are told, directly or indirectly, that their main job is to be cared for. That their days should orbit around provider timetables rather than personal or professional goals.
This isn’t inclusion. It’s a soft segregation, wrapped in politeness.
True inclusion raises expectations, not lowers them. It recognises that support should enable contribution, not replace it. It sees people with disabilities as citizens with responsibilities and gifts to offer, not just needs to be met.
Belonging isn’t a favour. It’s the ground we all stand on — or sit on — together. And it isn’t limited to the disability space; the same dynamics play out everywhere we confuse kindness with equality. The same is true in mainstream settings as well, but that’s a conversation for another time.