Project 2025 and America’s Choice: What Trump’s Reelection Means for Disability Rights and DEI

Black background with white text reading 'What's at Stake for Civil Rights: Project 2025,' framed by a gradient border transitioning from purple to blue to pink.

For many in the disability community, the outcome of this election is a profound blow. It's a stark reminder that this is not an anomaly; it's a deliberate choice by the electorate. As disability advocates, we must confront this reality, grieve its implications, and prepare for the arduous journey ahead.

Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion efforts are essential for creating spaces where all people, including disabled individuals, can thrive. Yet, with Project 2025’s clear intent to politicize the federal workforce, these efforts face a direct threat. The plan to replace nonpartisan civil servants with political loyalists doesn’t just jeopardize the integrity of government agencies; it also poses a serious risk to any DEI initiatives within the federal government. When leadership is handpicked to fit a rigid ideological mold, DEI initiatives—particularly those that protect marginalized groups—become targets for dismantling.

For disabled federal employees like myself, this change isn’t abstract. It could mean the erosion of inclusive hiring practices, the rollback of workplace accommodations, and a shift toward a culture that prioritizes conformity over diversity. By undercutting DEI, the federal government risks creating a hostile environment for all who rely on its protections, effectively shutting the door on years of progress in fostering an equitable workplace.

Moreover, Project 2025 aims to politicize the federal workforce by replacing nonpartisan civil servants with loyalists. This shift could transform agencies like the U.S. Department of Justice from protectors of civil rights into enforcers of a singular ideology, jeopardizing the rights of marginalized communities.

In 2016, we told ourselves, "This isn't who we are." Today, we must face the hard truth: This is who we are. Our society has twice chosen a path that marginalizes, excludes, and actively silences people like us. As Scaachi Koul wrote for Slate Magazine, "This is a country where half the population is content in its hatred of women, of queer people, of brown and Black people, of anyone who comes to the United States from a poorer country."

Acknowledging the pain doesn't mean we give up. We have work to do, even if it's uphill, exhausting, and heartbreaking. But we have to begin by mourning what we've lost—the hope for a more inclusive future, the belief that our voices mattered, and that progress was possible. We may be in the crosshairs, but we are not powerless. We are still here, advocating, fighting, and demanding that our nation's policies reflect everyone's needs, not just those who conform to a narrow idea of "American."

So let's grieve today, gather strength, and prepare for what comes next. Tomorrow, we continue the work, not because it's easy, but because it's necessary.

Rest Easy, Pico

A montage grid of photos featuring Ryan and Pico

Many of you know me for my advocacy work around disability rights, accessibility, and inclusion. Those who have followed my journey also know what an integral part of that advocacy my service dog, Canine Companions® Pico, has been. He was not just my companion but a key part of my mission to break down barriers and create a more inclusive world.

Last night, I had to say goodbye to my best friend, my partner, and my loyal service dog, Pico. Nearly 13 years of unwavering loyalty, love, and trust — Pico was more than a service dog. He made me a better human, a better advocate, and someone who could navigate the challenges of the world with confidence.

Waking up to the quiet today hits hard. It’s a silence I wasn’t ready for. Pico not only helped me navigate the world physically, but he also helped me grow as a person and reminded me every day of the power of loyalty, patience, and love.

Rest easy, Pico. You’ve earned your peace. Thank you for being the most amazing boy. I’ll carry your lessons and your love with me always.

Creative, Inclusive Workspaces: What We Can All Learn from the Adaptive Umbrella Workshop

Ryan presents via Zoom at a workshop on creating inclusive workspaces.

As we kick off National Disability Employment Awareness Month, yesterday I had the incredible honor of delivering the closing keynote address at the Adaptive Umbrella Workshop, hosted by the Bloomfield Township Public Library. This workshop focused on fostering creative, inclusive workspaces, and it was a privilege to share my thoughts on how we can create environments where everyone feels like they belong.

I've seen firsthand how conversations around diversity, equity, inclusion, and access are often treated like checkboxes—something to do out of obligation rather than a genuine effort to celebrate difference. During the workshop, we talked about how true inclusion goes beyond merely checking off boxes; it’s about cultivating a culture where disability isn’t a dirty word or something to dance around.

We discussed how equity, not just equality, must be the goal. Equity recognizes that everyone needs different tools to succeed. The idea that reasonable accommodations—whether it’s telework, flexible schedules, or assistive technology—are “special” or “unfair” is still prevalent in many workplaces. But these accommodations are about creating a level playing field.

In the federal government, where I've worked for over a decade, telework has been a game-changer, especially during the pandemic. But it isn’t just about the pandemic—it’s about offering flexibility for employees who navigate complex physical and invisible disabilities like chronic pain. Accommodations like these are about empowerment, not favoritism.

Another important topic we tackled was the disclosure of invisible disabilities. A 2023 study by the SHRM revealed that 47% of employees with invisible disabilities haven’t disclosed them to their employers. This comes from a place of fear—fear that disclosure will harm career prospects or lead to workplace stigma. Employers must create safe spaces where employees feel empowered to disclose if they choose to, without fearing repercussions.

Finally, we talked about resentment. Sadly, workplace accommodations are often misunderstood, leading to friction among coworkers who don’t see or understand the need. But as I shared during my keynote: It’s not the manager’s job to justify accommodations to other employees. Accommodations are about equity.

This workshop reminded me that building inclusive workspaces is an ongoing process. It’s about continuous education, open conversations, and creative solutions. The more we talk about what inclusion really looks like, the better we get at building work environments that uplift everyone, not just a select few.

A huge thank you to Jennifer Taggart and the Bloomfield Township Public Library for hosting such an important event, and to everyone who attended and asked thought-provoking questions. Your engagement fuels the work we’re doing to create a more equitable future.

The Floor, Not the Ceiling: Continuing the ADA's Legacy

A brick wall with a round button labeled "PUSH TO OPEN" featuring a wheelchair accessibility symbol.

All month long, I've been reflecting a lot on how disability is so often misunderstood. The Americans with Disabilities Act was a groundbreaking achievement for disability rights. But let's be real—it should be seen as the floor, not the ceiling, for what we aim to achieve.

A major misconception about disability is viewing it as a monolithic experience. It's not. Disability is vast, varied, and beautiful. Just like NPR readers pointed out, “Disabilities aren't one size fits all” and “not all disabilities are visible or immediately recognizable.” This diversity within our community needs more acknowledgment and understanding. We must break free from narrow definitions of what’s considered a “legitimate” disability. The ADA definition of disability is broad, in large part due to the recognition that disability affects everyone differently.

The ADA has indeed been instrumental in advancing the rights of people with disabilities. It opened doors and provided legal protection against discrimination. Yet, as Andrew Pulrang emphasizes, the ADA is often seen as “toothless” because of inconsistent enforcement and the persistent barriers—both physical and societal—that we encounter daily. Accessibility should be a basic right, not an inconvenience that gets ignored when it’s costly or challenging.

People’s ideas of what disability looks like are often so limited. They have these fixed notions that lead to gatekeeping and judgment. I remember when I got matched with Canine Companions® Pico, in 2014. Moving through the world with him opened my eyes to many nuances of disability access. Even though I’ve been disabled my whole life, being a new service dog handler was an entirely new experience. Pico and I faced challenges, but we also created positive change by challenging perceptions of what we could accomplish as a team.

True inclusion begins with empathy and a willingness to understand the varied experiences of those of us with disabilities. It means challenging preconceived notions and really listening to the voices within our community. As one NPR reader aptly put it, “Disability is not a fate worse than death. You can adapt, and you would if you suddenly became disabled.”

“Our disabilities are not flaws to be fixed, but integral parts of our identities that shape our unique perspectives and strengths,” Kim Chua told NPR. “We’re not defined solely by our disabilities. We’re whole, complex individuals with dreams, talents, and contributions to make.” By fostering a culture of empathy and understanding, we can work toward a society that truly values and includes everyone. The ADA was just the starting point, but our journey toward full equity and inclusion is ongoing. Let’s keep moving forward together.

As we close out Disability Pride, remember to lead with empathy and curiosity.

What NPR readers want you to know about living with a disability-readers-stories

Disability Pride: Beyond the Celebratory Facade

A wheelchair user wearing a superhero cape navigates a city street filled with obstacles like stairs and debris. The cityscape includes tall buildings, narrow doorways, and inaccessible paths.

Disability is like any other complex relationship, filled with highs and lows. Some days are easy, some days are challenging, and some days we triumph over societal barriers—lack of access, accommodations, empathy, or compassion. And then there are days when we’re simply too exhausted to fight and need time to recoup. We don’t owe anyone 24/7 optimism, even during Disability Pride Month, but that doesn’t mean our lives hold any less value.

My entrepreneurial father Craig Honick once told me, “Advocate so well you put yourself out of business.” It’s a lofty goal I still think about often. Ideally, we’d live in a world where disability awareness is ingrained in our societal fabric. But we’re not there yet. So, we fight. The progress we’ve made excites us, but the fight is exhausting, and we feel it deeply. As the calendar flips to a new month, we’ll still be here, fighting, and we’ll still be disabled.

Throughout this month, I and other advocates have spotlighted daily examples of our community’s struggle for basic equity and inclusion. But awareness without action is empty. Now that you’re aware of the struggles, what are you going to do? Too often, our voices are drowned out by our non-disabled peers. So here’s our ask: pass the mic when you can, amplify our stories, and when you see something wrong, speak up. We need your allyship not just in July, but all year long.

Emily Ladau put it best on the latest episode of The Accessible Stall podcast: “Sometimes I just don’t feel like practicing [Disability Pride]. I’m exhausted.” This sentiment resonates deeply. Pride in our disability is indeed an ongoing practice, a muscle that needs stretching. Awareness is step one. What will you do to be a better ally once the spotlight dims?

Here are some actionable steps to support disability advocacy and inclusion:

• Educate Yourself and Others: Learn about the issues facing the disability community and share this knowledge with those around you.

• Amplify Disabled Voices: Use your platform to highlight the stories and experiences of disabled individuals. Folks like Kristen Parisi, Tiffany A. Yu, MSc, Alexa Heinrich, Marisa Hamamoto, Margaux Joffe, CPACC, 🦻 Meryl Evans, CPACC (deaf), Keely Cat-Wells, Julie Harris, Jamie Shields, Catarina Rivera, MSEd, MPH, CPACC, Donna Cruz Jones, Sheri Byrne-Haber (disabled) and so many others who do amazing work.

• Advocate for Accessibility: Push for accessible practices in your workplace, community, and beyond. Accessibility benefits everyone.

• Offer Genuine Support: Ask disabled people what support looks like for them and follow through.

• Speak Up: When you see discrimination or inaccessibility, don’t stay silent. Use your voice to advocate for change.

Let’s move beyond just awareness. Let’s take action together to create a more inclusive and equitable world for all. Your allyship matters every day.

A Legacy of Inclusion: Thank You, President Biden

President Joe Biden, wearing a dark suit, light blue tie, and aviator sunglasses, waves to the camera.

I’ll be honest: the news that President Biden won't seek reelection in 2024 hit me hard. It's a defining moment for a leader who has profoundly shaped the disability community. His tenure has brought about unprecedented changes and set a new standard for inclusion and accessibility. As we reflect on his legacy, it's clear that President Biden's impact will be felt for generations to come.

Did you know that in 2023, the employment-population ratio for people with disabilities hit 22.5%? That’s the highest since the Bureau of Labor Statistics started tracking this data in 2008. The unemployment rate for people with disabilities dropped to 7.2%. These numbers reflect real, positive change in our lives.

Biden's commitment to the disability community is clear. Take Medicaid, for example. It now covers over 80 million Americans, including many of us with disabilities. He also boosted special education funding by $2.6 billion in 2021.

Let’s talk about student loans. The U.S. Department of Education's PSLF program was a mess, with a 99% rejection rate under the previous administration. President Biden stepped in and made real changes. He streamlined the application process, expanded eligibility, and fixed past errors. Now, thousands of public servants, including many with disabilities, are finally getting the loan forgiveness we were promised.

Air travel has long been a nightmare for many with disabilities. Recently, the U.S. Department of Transportation announced a proposed rule aimed at ensuring passengers who use wheelchairs can stay in their own wheelchairs while flying. This rule, if implemented, would mark a monumental shift in air travel accessibility.

The new proposal also includes several key improvements. Airlines would be required to notify passengers immediately if their wheelchair has been mishandled, repair or replace damaged wheelchairs, and return lost wheelchairs to the passenger's final destination within 24 hours.

We owe President Biden a big thank you. His dedication to disability rights has been unwavering. His administration’s focus on accessible infrastructure has modernized public transit systems across the country, making it easier for wheelchair users like me to get around. These improvements have touched the lives of countless people who rely on public transportation daily.

The policies President Biden put in place have laid a strong foundation for future advancements in disability rights and inclusion. As we continue to advocate for equity and access, we need to build on his legacy to create a society where everyone, regardless of ability, can thrive.

Thank you, President Biden, for your unwavering support and dedication to making our lives better. Your legacy will endure, and we will carry the torch forward.

The Crip Tax: Unveiling the Hidden Costs of Disability

A close-up image of a person in a white shirt holding a fan of hundred-dollar bills in their hand. The focus is on the money, showing several crisp banknotes prominently featuring Benjamin Franklin. The background is blurred, drawing attention to the hand and the cash.

Today, I want to talk about what is colloquially known in our community as the "Crip Tax." This term encompasses the increased cost of living that accompanies being disabled. Whether it’s accessible housing, home modifications, therapies, treatments, medications, or elevated electric bills to maintain medical equipment—these costs are substantial.

Selma Blair shared her struggles with the financial strain of managing her multiple sclerosis with the The Hollywood Reporter: "People perceive you as rich and famous but there were many years I’d have to take off work that deeply impacted [me]. If I don’t [get] my SAG-AFTRA insurance, then I don’t get my blood products." This sentiment resonates deeply with many of us who face similar financial burdens.

Accessible housing is often limited to more expensive areas, and making one's home accessible through modifications can be financially draining. The cost of mobility aids, which are often not covered by insurance, further strains our finances. But the Crip Tax extends beyond monetary costs. The psychological impact of being perceived as exploiting our disability for preferential treatment, when all we seek is basic equity, is profound. We face conscious and unconscious biases that affect our dating lives, career progression, and personal relationships.

In the workplace, requesting necessary accommodations can be a delicate balance. The fear of being perceived as a burden looms large. If we ascend to positions of leadership and conquer these prejudices, we are often met with accusations of tokenism and claims that we are less qualified and less deserving. On the other hand, asking for too many accommodations can lead employers to assume we will underperform. Add to that the often bureaucratic and adversarial nature of making such requests, and many of us simply won’t, effectively making our jobs harder and feeding into the false narrative of our capabilities.

Additionally, the medical field often discounts our experiences. If ailments aren’t found on routine tests, they are frequently deemed imaginary. This constant need to defend our reality is exhausting. 

Socially, the unpredictability of our health means we sometimes have to decline invitations, leading to perceptions of flakiness. Chronic pain and fatigue turn every decision into a game-time choice, based on our body's state that day. The Crip Tax also includes spending time defending yourself to people who don't believe you, expending extra energy from our already limited supply, defending our right to exist.

This tax is a lifetime of financial, psychological, and emotional burdens that seem only to increase.

What did I leave out? Sound off in the comments. Additionally, share your thoughts with NPR for an upcoming feature story.

Selma Blair on Getting “Back on Track” With MS Treatment: People Don’t “Get How Expensive It Is to Be Disabled”

Why Removing Equity from DEI Is a Step Back for Disability Inclusion

Two hands, one from the top left and the other from the bottom right, grasp a large, yellow letter 'E' against a grey background, symbolizing the tug-of-war over the concept of equity in DEI (Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion) initiatives. Credit: Annelise Capossela/Axios

Recently, I've been reflecting on the troubling trend of companies removing 'equity' from their DEI initiatives, a move now endorsed by the SHRM. This shift is particularly harmful to the disability community.

Equity ensures that everyone has what they need to succeed. For disabled employees, this might mean accessible workplaces, assistive technology, or flexible work arrangements. SHRM's decision to drop 'equity' from its strategy undermines these critical supports. The Wall Street Journal's Ray Smith reports the organization is "moving away from equity language to ensure no group of workers appears to get preferential treatment." However, this perspective ignores the unique barriers faced by the disability community and other marginalized groups.

Removing equity from DEI efforts sends a concerning message: that the specific needs of marginalized groups are less important. This is not just a theoretical issue; it's a tangible setback. A recent piece by Bloomberg's Khorri A. Atkinson explored the impact on colleges and universities that have already begun eliminating hundreds of DEI-related jobs, impacting support for historically marginalized students. In the workplace, this trend could mean fewer accommodations and less understanding of the unique challenges faced by disabled employees.

Moving through the world with various disabilities, I’ve experienced firsthand the difference that equitable policies make. Equity isn't about giving some people an unfair advantage; it's about leveling the playing field. Without it, disabled employees like myself are left at a significant disadvantage.

We need to recognize that inclusion without equity is incomplete. Equity should be uncontroversial. It just means equality of opportunity. “Who are the people that find 'equity' confusing?" Deb Muller, the CEO of HR Acuity, told Axios’s Emily Peck. This is why the removal of 'equity' is so alarming—it risks undoing years of progress and harms those who rely on these measures the most.

I urge my fellow advocates and allies to speak out against this shift. It's crucial that we maintain a holistic approach to DEI that includes equity. We need to push for policies that recognize and address the diverse needs of all employees.

What are your thoughts on SHRM's decision to drop 'equity' from their DEI strategy? How do you think this will impact the disability community and other marginalized groups?

When DEI gets downgraded to I&D

Why 'Dateable' is the Book Every Disabled Person Needs

Book cover of "Dateable: Swiping Right, Hooking Up, and Settling Down While Chronically Ill and Disabled" by Jessica Slice and Caroline Cupp. The background features a gradient of pastel colors including yellow, blue, and green. The title is in bold yellow text, with the subtitle and authors' names in smaller white and green text respectively.

Today, I am reflecting on the incredible opportunity to be featured in the transformative book, "Dateable" by Jessica Slice and Caroline Cupp. This book is a definitive primer on dating with a disability, and I couldn't be more grateful for the chance to contribute to this important text.

Representation in media and literature is crucial for people with disabilities. "Dateable" fills a significant gap by addressing the unique challenges and triumphs we face in the dating world. The book tackles the lack of representation and role models that can prevent us from seeing ourselves as desirable, romantic, and dateable. As the authors poignantly state, "There are huge numbers of disabled people dating, hooking up, and marrying. But if we don’t see that playing out on-screen, especially if we operate in actual communities made up of predominantly nondisabled people, it can feel like we’re the only ones on earth trying to figure this out."

One of the key themes in "Dateable" is the struggle against internalized ableism and the complicated questions around disclosing one's disability in the context of dating. The book explores the trauma of dating apps, the biases they perpetuate, and the often painful interactions that come with them. The chapter "S*?! (AHEM, STUFF) PEOPLE SAY" features my own story, an anecdote encapsulating the absurdity and the humor that often accompany dating with a disability. The book uses humor to address serious topics, making them more accessible and relatable. I often speak about my medical history and experiences, but having one of my favorite stories immortalized in print, with its perfect mix of humor and reality, is truly special.

"Dateable" provides a platform to advocate for disability rights and awareness. The book doesn't shy away from difficult topics like the fetishization of disability, the need for open communication and consent, and the challenges of navigating sex and relationships with various disabilities. It shines a light on the broader societal changes needed to foster a more inclusive understanding of dating with a disability.

"Dateable" is the book I wish I had when I was younger, coming to terms with my body, its limitations, and what it would mean for my life in the dating space. It’s a book that every disabled person should read, regardless of where they are in their dating journey. It reminds us that our disability makes us just as human, dateable, and desirable as anyone else. Our dating lives may be more complicated, but we deserve to be represented, talked about, and yes, sexualized. We date, we love, we break up, we struggle just like everybody else, and this book puts all of that front and center unapologetically.

Thank you, Jessica and Caroline, for putting this book into the world. It was so needed and could not have come at a more perfect time.

No Way to Run a Country? The Harmful Narratives of Ableism in Media

Cover of The Economist magazine dated July 6th-12th, 2024, featuring an image of a walker with the Presidential Seal of the United States and the headline 'No Way to Run a Country’.

As a disability advocate, I am often reminded of the pervasive ableism that infiltrates many aspects of our society. The recent cover of The Economist, depicting a walker with the presidential seal and the caption "No way to run a country," is a stark example of this issue. Regardless of political views or the current debates around President Biden's fitness, framing his capability to govern based on a disability is not only cruel but highlights a deep-seated ableism that must be addressed.

This kind of representation perpetuates harmful stereotypes, suggesting that those who use mobility aids are less capable. Such images can have far-reaching consequences, reinforcing negative perceptions and fostering environments where people with disabilities feel pressured to hide their conditions. The Economist should be ashamed of themselves for this front-page cover and for continuing to push a harmful narrative that deems individuals with disabilities as less competent.

The Economist's cover is not just an isolated incident; it reflects a broader issue within media representation. This portrayal underscores the editorial team's lack of understanding and empathy toward disability. It's a reminder of the significant work needed to educate and shift societal perspectives. Media outlets have a powerful influence on public opinion, and with that power comes the responsibility to portray all individuals fairly and accurately.

This is not the first time we've seen such blatant ableism in politics. Senator John Fetterman faced criticism for using assistive technology to perform his duties, with many questioning his ability to serve. While the office of the President is indeed a different challenge, ableism should have no place in our political discussions. As advocates, we must highlight these issues and push for a more inclusive narrative recognizing the capabilities of all individuals.

Ableist portrayals like The Economist's cover can discourage employees from disclosing their disabilities, fearing judgment and discrimination. This reluctance prevents many from accessing necessary accommodations that could enhance their productivity and well-being. It's crucial that we create workplaces where disability disclosure is met with support and understanding, not prejudice.

To combat these harmful narratives, media organizations must take actionable steps to improve their representation of individuals with disabilities. This includes hiring more people with disabilities in visible roles, consulting with disability advocates when creating content, and committing to ongoing education on disability issues. By doing so, they can help dismantle ableist stereotypes and promote a more inclusive society.

Let's use this moment to spark a conversation about ableism in the media and beyond.