Remote Work Isn’t a Perk—It’s a Lifeline for Disabled Federal Employees

People walking past the Department of the Treasury building, a historic structure with large columns and engraved signage, on a chilly day with some leaves scattered on the ground.

For more than a decade as a federal employee, I’ve been proud to serve the public. I’ve earned awards, glowing reviews, and built a career I love. But here’s the truth: my success wouldn’t have been possible without telework. As a disabled professional managing multiple disabilities, remote work is more than a convenience—it’s a lifeline. It enables me to thrive in an environment that meets my needs and eliminates barriers that might otherwise exclude me. Now, all of that progress is at risk.

The Wall Street Journal's John McCormick and Te-Ping Chen report on the newly envisioned Department of Government Efficiency effort to mandate full-time in-office work is alarming. Elon Musk and Vivek Ramaswamy, leading this charge, have made it clear that they expect resignations, with Ramaswamy predicting as many as 25% of federal workers could leave. To them, this might sound like trimming bureaucracy. In practice, this is a targeted assault on equity and inclusion.

Telework gave disabled employees the chance to participate in record numbers, eliminating barriers like long commutes and inaccessible environments. Meg O'Connell, PHR of Global Disability Inclusion, LLC explained it best to HR Brew ™️'s Kristen Parisi: “People with disabilities have what they need in their homes. They don’t have to ask for accommodation [because] they’ve already built out their space.” Why dismantle a system that works?

While many argue in-person work fosters collaboration, the private sector is proving otherwise. Glassdoor’s CEO Christian Sutherland-Wong told Fortune, “The biggest benefit we’ve seen…is being able to tap into talent all around the U.S. and the globe.” If companies like Glassdoor see remote work as a future-driven solution, why is the government pushing outdated practices?

This isn’t just about where we work; it’s about who gets to work. Forcing disabled employees back into offices undermines principles of diversity, equity, inclusion, and access. Policies like DOGE’s mandate send a clear message: “We don’t trust you or value your contributions unless we see you at a desk.” As Dannie Lynn Fountain, DBA, EA, SPHR, CDR of Google said, these practices are “still disability discrimination.”

The pandemic proved remote work’s transformative potential. It shattered barriers for disabled workers and redefined productivity. Now, that progress is being reversed. The stakes couldn’t be higher—not just for me but for all of us. Are we building workplaces of the future or clinging to systems that exclude?

Remote work empowered me to thrive, but it also redefined what’s possible for our workforce. Let’s not let fear of change erase that progress. Inclusion is more than a checkbox; it’s a commitment to creating workplaces where everyone can succeed.

Musk, Ramaswamy Want Federal Workers in the Office Full Time. There’s a Hitch.

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.

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.

Piecing It Together: A Story of Self-Discovery and Disability Awareness

A festive indoor celebration scene for the 34th anniversary of the Americans with Disabilities Act. The centerpiece is a large two-tiered cake decorated with the Disability Parking Symbol in blue. The top of the cake features lit candles and large number "34" candles. The cake is inscribed with the message "Happy 34th Anniversary of the Americans with Disabilities Act." The background is adorned with colorful balloons and streamers, creating a joyful and vibrant party atmosphere.

As we celebrate the 34th anniversary of the Americans with Disabilities Act, I want to share a story close to my heart. It's about my best friend, who, in her early thirties, has only recently come to realize she's been disabled for much of her life. Her journey of self-discovery is a testament to the complex and unique paths we each take to understand our own disabilities.

Growing up, she was that quirky, clumsy teenager who fell down all the time. Friends joked that someone needed to be nearby to catch her, and frequent ER visits were chalked up to her being "accident prone." High heels? A fashion no-go because of her wobbly ankles. Gym class? A nightmare, especially when a heart condition—misdiagnosed for years—made sustained exercise impossible.

Her life was a series of "quirks" that never quite added up. Hypermobile joints, ADHD symptoms, and a heart that often felt like it was drowning were all dismissed as part of her "unique charm." It wasn't until her mid-twenties that the pieces started falling into place with proper diagnoses: hypermobility, inappropriate sinus tachycardia, and an ongoing assessment for ADHD.

Reflecting on her journey, she realized how internalized ableism and a lack of confidence about what "counts" as a disability had prevented her from embracing her disabled identity. She had tried to fit into the mold of the manic pixie dream girl, cultivating her issues as endearing quirks rather than recognizing them as signs of her disabilities.

Dating, too, was fraught with challenges. She constantly worried about keeping up with potential partners who enjoyed activities like hiking and running—activities her body couldn't always handle. This anxiety stemmed from societal perceptions of disability hierarchies and the pressure to be "normal."

Her story is a powerful reminder that disability journeys can begin at any time and are often unexpected. Understanding disability through formal or informal diagnosis provides a unique lens and vocabulary to better understand oneself. It's a journey of discovery, relief, and pride.

On this anniversary of the ADA, let's celebrate not only those who fought for our rights but also those just beginning to understand and embrace their disabilities. Their stories are vital in the ongoing fight for diversity, equity, inclusion, and access.

The Power of Words: Trump's Harsh Views vs. Biden's Compassion

A disabled parking logo is depicted with blood dripping down, symbolizing the erroneous belief that disabled people should die. The scene is a dark and eerie, with the surrounding environment having a grim and foreboding atmosphere, including dark, leafless trees and a misty background.

I can’t stop thinking about President Biden’s address to the nation last night—his first since deciding to exit the 2024 race. His speech was filled with humanity and a focus on inclusion, qualities that starkly contrast with sentiments expressed by Donald Trump, as revealed in a recent TIME Magazine article by Fred Trump III.

Biden’s words from the Oval Office were profound: “We have to decide: Do we still believe in honesty, decency, respect, freedom, justice, and democracy? In this moment, we can see those we disagree with not as enemies but as fellow Americans.” This message of unity and respect is essential, especially as we celebrate the 34th anniversary of the Americans with Disabilities Act. The ADA, passed under the George H.W. Bush administration, is more contested than ever in today’s political climate. I’m not sure it would pass Congress in 2024.

Contrast this with the shocking statements from Donald Trump, as recounted by his nephew Fred Trump III. Fred’s article reveals a chilling disregard for disabled people. President Trump reportedly said at the height of COVID-19, “The shape they’re in, all the expenses, maybe those kinds of people should just die,” in reference to his own blood. These words are not just hurtful; they are a stark reminder of how far we still have to go in fighting for the rights and dignity of all Americans.

Biden’s commitment to disability rights has been evident throughout his administration. His support for updates to Section 508 of the Rehabilitation Act is a critical step forward. “The federal government has an obligation to ensure that its services are accessible to people with disabilities, including its websites and technology,” said Senator Bob Casey, co-sponsor of the proposed updates. This legislation aims to make federal technology accessible to all Americans, ensuring that no one is left behind.

I use a wheelchair. I handle a service dog. I leverage assistive technology to navigate the web due to my visual impairment. These updates are not just necessary; they are vital. It’s not just about physical barriers; it’s about breaking down attitudinal ones as well.

Biden’s words remind us that we are all in this together: “We are a great nation because we are a good people...The power’s in your hands. The idea of America lies in your hands. You just have to keep faith.” In contrast, Trump’s comments reflect a divisiveness that undermines the progress we’ve made and the values we stand for.

As we approach this significant anniversary of the ADA, let’s remember the work that still needs to be done. Let’s continue to fight for a world where everyone, regardless of their abilities, has equal access to opportunities and resources. When given the respect and dignity we deserve, we not only thrive, we persevere. The only thing that needs to die is ableism.

My Uncle Donald Trump Told Me Disabled Americans Like My Son ‘Should Just Die’

Honoring Robin Williams: Shedding Light on Invisible Disabilities During Disability Pride Month

A photorealistic image of Robin Williams, dressed in a white robe with golden details, holding a microphone. He is laughing joyfully, with a radiant smile on his face. The background features a dramatic sky with golden clouds and a bright sun shining behind him, creating a heavenly glow around his figure.

Reflecting on Robin Williams’ birthday this past week has brought back a flood of memories and emotions. As a kid who spent countless hours in hospitals recovering from various surgeries, I found immense joy and solace in watching Robin’s comedic genius. His off-the-wall humor in movies like Aladdin, Hook, and Mrs. Doubtfire provided a much-needed escape and a dose of laughter that was as healing (and necessary) as any medicine.

As an adult, my admiration for Robin Williams only grew. I reveled in his masterful performances in a series of now-iconic HBO specials. One of my most cherished memories is attending his final special, Weapons of Self Destruction, at DAR Constitution Hall in 2009. Watching his comic mind at work was nothing short of magical. Robin Williams was more than just a comedian to me; he was, and remains, an inspiration during some of my darkest times.

Robin’s untimely death by suicide in 2014 was a stark reminder of the silent battles many face daily. His struggle with mental health was a poignant example of an invisible disability. According to the National Institute of Mental Health (NIMH), nearly one in five U.S. adults lives with a mental illness, highlighting the prevalence of these unseen struggles. Yet, societal stigma often makes it harder for them to seek help and support.

We, as a society, have a responsibility to create environments that support those with mental health conditions. The American Foundation for Suicide Prevention reports that nearly 50,000 deaths occurred by suicide in 2022, making it the 11th leading cause of death in the United States.

Personal stories, like that of Robin Williams, have the power to drive change. By sharing our narratives, we humanize the statistics and inspire empathy and understanding. Let’s use these stories to spark conversations and promote a more inclusive society.

The workplace is a critical arena for mental health inclusion. A 2023 report from the American Psychological Association reveals that nearly 60% of employees experience negative impacts on their mental health due to work-related stress. Employers must adopt strategies to accommodate and support employees with mental health conditions. Flexible work schedules, mental health days, and accessible resources are steps toward a more supportive workplace.

Robin Williams’ legacy is a poignant reminder of the importance of addressing invisible disabilities. As we honor his memory, and celebrate Disability Pride Month, let’s commit to discussing mental health openly and honestly without shame. Share your stories, challenge the stigma, and advocate for inclusive policies. You never know whose life you'll change by sharing your story.

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.

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