Accessibility: A Right, Not a Request

Why accommodations can't replace intentional, inclusive design

A while back I wrote a short post about why accommodations are not enough on my social media. It was more of an overview on their inadequacies and why we should rethink and reframe accessibility.

I've been thinking about this a lot today, so I thought I'd explore it a bit more..

Why accommodations aren't enough: rethinking accessibility from the ground up

For far too long accommodations have been seen as the gold standard, as if simply adding them at the last minute somehow solves the deep, systemic issues of exclusion and inequity. But the truth is accessibility should never be an afterthought. It’s not about simply accommodating those who need it but about designing from the very beginning with every person in mind. Accessibility has to be intentional, proactive, and collaborative. It is about building inclusion from the foundation up, not just slapping on a few changes and calling it a day - tokenism at it's finest, right?

Here’s the real problem: accommodations, while critical, are reactive. They are the band-aid we put on wounds that could have been prevented in the first place if accessibility had been considered at every step. Sure, they help people overcome barriers in environments that weren't designed with them in mind, but that's not enough. We’re talking about creating a world where everyone belongs, not just those who are able to fight for their right to access.

When we rely on accommodations as the main solution, we’re placing the burden on the individual. The responsibility falls on those who need support to speak up, advocate for themselves, and prove their worth. That’s not just a logistical issue but a psychological one. Too often, people are made to feel like they’re asking for special treatment or favours rather than having their basic needs met. The stereotypes, stigmas, and societal assumptions about disability make this process feel like an uphill battle. Asking for accommodations can feel like admitting you don’t fit in, which brings with it a host of internalised shame or ableism and the pressure of having to justify why you deserve them in the first place.

This is where the deep flaws in our thinking about accessibility come into play. We make the individuals with disabilities do all the work. We demand that they not only cope with a system that wasn’t built for them but also fight to change that system, which they often do alone.

Shameful..

Imagine a world where accessibility isn't something you request, but something that is already built into every aspect of society. It’s woven into the fabric of the spaces we inhabit, the services we use and the experiences we share. Accessibility isn't just about adding a ramp at the entrance or providing a few extra hours for a task. It’s about fundamentally understanding that different people engage with the world in different ways and making room for those differences from the moment the space or system is conceived.

Accessibility means thinking about all the potential barriers before they even exist. It means creating environments—physical, digital, or otherwise—that are flexible and open to everyone whether or not they disclose a disability. It’s direct integration rather than seeing access as a separate entity that only some people get after the fact. When accessibility is prioritised, it shows that anyone irrespective of their neurodivergence, mobility challenges, sensory needs, or any other difference, is welcome, supported, and able to fully participate. Not as an exception or afterthought, but as the rule.

Creating accessibility isn’t something that can be done in isolation. It’s not just about making physical spaces accessible, but about building a culture that embraces everyone from the start. This takes collaboration from all angles: designers, policymakers, community leaders, and individuals who know what it’s like to navigate the world without proper access. These voices must be heard and understood because accessibility doesn’t just serve those with visible disabilities, it helps create environments that are flexible enough for anyone.

When accessibility is a team effort, everyone benefits. Designing for inclusion leads to better solutions for all. A ramp for instance, benefits not only wheelchair users but anyone who needs a little extra time or space, such as parents with pushchairs or individuals with temporary injuries.

The ultimate goal should be to shift from a reactive model (accommodations) to a proactive one (accessibility). Accommodations will always have a place because they help us support people when accessibility isn't enough. But accommodations should never be the foundation of inclusion. They are meant to fill the gaps in a system that was never designed for people who don't fit into the default moulds. Accessibility is what removes the need for those gaps to begin with.

Accessibility isn’t a privilege, it’s a right. And until we start designing spaces, systems, and societies that recognise that right, we will always be fighting to fix something that shouldn’t have been broken in the first place.

The bottom line is this: accommodations are temporary solutions to a much deeper issue. They support individuals when accessibility principles have been ignored. But true accessibility doesn’t just support, it integrates. It makes sure that no one is left out of the conversation, no one is forced to ask for permission to be seen, and everyone can participate fully and meaningfully.

Creating access means thinking beyond accommodations—it's about building systems and environments where everyone’s needs are met from the very beginning. Accessibility isn’t something you add on later but something you build in, proactively, with the understanding that inclusion benefits everyone.

Thank you for reading, until next time!