I’m Tired of the Disability “Lip Service” — You Can’t Preach Inclusion and Practice Exclusion

The disability world is full of sweet words and good appearances. 

Everyone wants to appear to be disability inclusive, because we know it’s the right thing to do.

But if you dig deep enough, you’ll find all sorts of hypocrisy and double standards.

I’ve seen it in employment spaces, IEP meetings, and social programs.

It sounds like polished advocacy on stage, but behind the scenes, it’s often dismissive and selective, excluding those who don’t fit a certain mold.

I’ve been in rooms where leaders of major organizations nod along to my presentations, only to quietly say afterward: “That’s great, but disability advocacy just isn’t everyone’s focus.”

Forgetting that disability advocacy isn’t a job description, but it’s a way of life. 

It’s a mindset. 

It’s a responsibility.

At Mikey’s Hope Disability Services, I’ve worked hard to create opportunities for disabled individuals, to bring tailored guidance to families, and to make resources for organizations. We don’t serve only one type of disability, we have amazing clients with autism, Down syndrome, visual impairments, physical impairments, and more in 3+ different countries.

But a lot of our work depends on partnering with other organizations. I’m going to give some real-life examples (no exaggerations) of scenarios I’ve dealt with in the past 6 months. 

Scenario 1

So what happens when so-called “disability professionals” hire your student to do a job for them, but later delay payments, ignore emails, and treats their labor as optional? What can we do when we continuously follow up but there’s only silence, excuses, and flat out bias on the other end? And when they finally do pay 6 weeks later, they only send 1/4 of the originally agreed upon price.

Sometimes, no amount of lecturing about disability inclusion and advocacy can change this kind of person. (Trust me, we tried).

Scenario 2

How do you respond when a highly trained therapist who specializes in Level 1 autism says, “Oh, my autistic clients are different than yours — they're professionals”?

So what does that mean, exactly? Are they implying that only degree-holding, “high-functioning” neurodivergent people that count? 

I’m not sure why making a distinction like this even matters. All disabilities are different. 

Disability is a broad term. It can describe physical, cognitive, sensory, or social impairments, all of which come with different needs and experiences.

Many people with disabilities are professionals who have overcome incredible odds. Of course, some are not.

But their worth isn't defined by that.

Disability is not a bad word. It only becomes one when we use it to divide, diminish, or dismiss.

Scenario 3 

A disability advocate commented that some of our events that celebrate people with disabilities only exist to “make neurotypical people feel better.”

Why are people with disabilities not worth celebrating? Especially if they are in a society that has never celebrated them?

I believe that everyone deserves to be celebrated in their life at least once. We all need to feel special, seen and valued. We celebrate children all the time — for their birthdays, school awards, dances, sports, and more.

So why is it patronizing to celebrate someone with a disability?

This same advocate also told me I shouldn’t speak on behalf of disabled people because I’m not disabled myself.

I actually agree that disabled voices should be prioritized. This is especially important when decisions are being made about their lives. But that doesn’t mean non-disabled people should be silent. We can and should advocate alongside, with respect and humility.

However, we need to remember those who literally cannot speak for themselves — like my brother Mikey and other level 3 autistic individuals.

Their stories are usually neglected unless someone speaks up for them.

Is everyone really “welcome”?

You can’t keep using the word “inclusion” if your version of it only includes people who:

• Speak “professionally”

• Need minimal accommodations

• Or look good on your website

I’m tired of watching programs that say “everyone’s welcome” quietly exclude certain disabilities, especially those with high support needs. This is the two-faced nature of much of disability inclusion today. So many are always promised a seat at the table, but never given one.

But real inclusion isn’t easy. It’s not tidy. And it’s not limited to the people who make you comfortable.

If you’re in this field leading an organization, hiring speakers, or building programs, you need to ask:

• Who is always included?

• Who is always missing?

• And who is silently cleaning up the messes you pretend not to see?

Because if your advocacy only includes the most “independent,” the most “verbal,” the most “professional,” then it’s not advocacy — it’s branding.

And if you’re allowing your staff, your admin, or your team to treat disabled professionals with anything less than full respect, you’re not being inclusive. You’re being complicit.

Don’t just include disability when it’s convenient.

Include it when it’s complicated.

When it’s slow.

When it’s messy.

When it’s human.

Because that’s where the real work begins.