The Cost of Silence: How DEI Rollbacks Are Erasing Disability from the Conversation

Person tied to a ship’s mast in stormy seas, surrounded by flying papers, rough waves, and glowing lights on rocky shores—symbolizing focus amid chaos and distraction.

I’ve been thinking a lot about sirens. Not the ones on ambulances—the other kind. The ones Chris Hayes describes in The Sirens’ Call: mythic, seductive, dangerous. They don’t just scream for your attention—they lure it, sing to it, steal it. And they drag you straight into the rocks.

What happens when an entire government starts operating like that?

Over the past few weeks, the Trump administration has turned civil rights enforcement into political theater. Agencies like the EEOC and Federal Communications Commission are being used not to protect marginalized groups—but to punish them. DEI programs that once opened doors for Black and Brown students, queer workers, and yes, disabled professionals, are being framed as threats. The EEOC has launched investigations into university internships and law firm diversity programs. The FCC is probing The Walt Disney Company over inclusive storytelling. The OFCCP, once a watchdog for federal contractor discrimination, is being gutted from the inside. And while that’s happening, the president is casually floating the idea of a third term—telling NBC News, “There are methods.”

It’s not just authoritarian. It’s a masterclass in distraction. And in that swirl of headlines and spectacle, something deeply dangerous is happening: disabled people are disappearing from the narrative. Again.

We are not just being excluded. We are being erased. DEI policies that included disability are being dismantled. Federal workers with disabilities—many who’ve built careers serving their country—are being laid off or pushed out, quietly and en masse. States like New York and Wisconsin are scrambling to rehire them, but the national spotlight is elsewhere. The sirens are too loud.

Chris Hayes writes, “Attention is the substance of life… Every moment we are awake, we are paying attention to something.” That means what we don’t pay attention to? It can be just as powerful. Just as dangerous. I’ll be honest—this isn’t theoretical for me. I’ve been in the rooms where disability was a box no one wanted to check. Where accessibility was always someone else’s job. Where inclusion didn’t extend to people like me. And now those gaps have become openings for erasure, policy by policy, silence by silence.

We’re watching a full-scale rollback of civil rights—framed as “equity” for those who already hold power—and it’s working because we’re not paying attention to who’s falling through the cracks. Especially disabled folks. Especially those at the intersection of race, gender, and disability.

So here’s my ask: Pay attention. Look past the spectacle. Follow the stories that aren’t being told. Because attention isn’t just a resource. It’s a form of protection. And when we withhold it, people get hurt.

The sirens are singing louder every day. Some of us are still tied to the mast. Don’t look away.

Disability Accommodations at Work: Why Employees Fear Speaking Up

A diverse group of professionals, including wheelchair users and employees with headphones, collaborate in a modern office, promoting workplace inclusion and accessibility.

Who gets to be "disabled enough"?

That’s the uncomfortable debate unfolding in workplaces across the country—and one I recently discussed in The Wall Street Journal alongside Justina Plowden and Keely Cat-Wells.

As more employees request accommodations, some worry we’re stretching the definition of disability too far. But here’s the real question: Are we diluting the meaning of disability, or are we finally acknowledging the full spectrum of barriers people face?

Here’s where I stand: Pitting disabilities against each other is dangerous. It’s not up to me, an employer, or anyone else to decide whose disability is “valid enough” to deserve support. If someone says they need an accommodation, believe them. Full stop.

And yet, many disabled employees don’t feel safe disclosing their disability at all. Why? Because they know what happens next:

🚫 They’re seen as less competent.
🚫 They’re overlooked for promotions.
🚫 They’re often the first to go in layoffs.

This is why so many people don’t ask for accommodations, even when they’re legally entitled to them. It’s not simply that remote work itself makes disabled employees more vulnerable—it’s that stigma and workplace bias make disclosing a disability a risk.

I appreciate WSJ and Callum Borchers for giving space to this conversation, and I hope it pushes more employers to rethink how they support disabled workers—both those who disclose and those who don’t.

Disabled Workers Debate Who Is Really One of Us

Mass Federal Layoffs: How Schedule A Employees Became the First to Go

A digital illustration of an email notification with the bold subject line "You're Fired" displayed on a white sheet emerging from an open blue envelope. The background shows a blurred email inbox interface with unread messages, reinforcing the theme of job termination or layoffs.

It’s Valentine’s Day. A day for love and connection. But instead of unwinding, I’m fuming.

Because once again, disabled federal employees are being treated as disposable.

Last night, reports by The Washington Post, The New York Times and others confirmed what many of us feared: the Trump administration has escalated mass federal layoffs, targeting probationary employees first—including those hired under Schedule A, the federal hiring program for workers with disabilities.

It’s infuriating. It’s discriminatory. And it’s completely predictable.

For those unfamiliar, Schedule A is not a handout. It’s a hiring path for people with disabilities that requires extensive documentation, qualifications, and agency approval.

But here’s the kicker: while most new federal employees serve a one-year probationary period, Schedule A employees must prove themselves for two years. The justification? That disabled workers need extra assessment to determine if they "belong" in public service.

It’s blatant discrimination baked into policy.

And now, those extended probationary periods have made Schedule A employees an easy target for mass layoffs.

On Thursday, 200,000 probationary workers were put on notice. The U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs, U.S. Department of Education, and U.S. Small Business Administration were hit hard.

🔹 More than 1,000 VA employees—gone.
🔹 Entire teams at U.S. Office of Personnel Management (OPM) and SBA—fired overnight.
🔹 Education Department employees helping disabled students—cut loose.

These weren’t performance-based firings. No warnings. No due process. Just emails that never arrived and pre-recorded layoff videos.

This isn’t just about budget cuts. It’s part of a broader attack on disability inclusion in federal employment.

This administration has already gone after:
✅ Remote work policies (which help disabled workers)
✅ Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion initiatives
✅ Reasonable accommodations (now “under review” by some agencies)

The pattern is clear. They don’t want us here.

What Needs to Happen Next?

🔹 Share this post. Get the word out.
🔹 Contact your representatives. Demand oversight.
🔹 Support federal worker unions. AFGE is fighting back—help them.
🔹 Push for Schedule A reform. The two-year probation rule is discriminatory and unjust.

People with disabilities fought for decades to secure a place in the federal workforce. We’ve been overlooked, underestimated, and discarded at every turn.

And now, we’re being purged again—just because we were the easiest to cut loose.

If we stay silent, this will happen again.

And next time, it might be worse.

The Fight for Disability Rights: How Dismantling the Education Department Endangers Millions

A low-angle view of the U.S. Department of Education building at 400 Maryland Avenue, SW, Washington, D.C., with a brown sign in the foreground displaying the department's name. The sky is partly cloudy with a lens flare visible.

Let’s be real: Without the U.S. Department of Education, millions of disabled students will be left behind.

If you’re not paying attention to what’s happening, now is the time to start.

The Trump administration is making good on its long-standing goal to shut down the Department of Education—a move that could hamper enforcement of the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act and Section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act, the very laws that make education accessible for students with disabilities.

Additionally, 17 states have filed a lawsuit aiming to dismantle Section 504 entirely.

I know firsthand how much these protections matter.

Without Section 504 accommodations, I wouldn’t have made it through school, let alone built a career. I had the tools I needed not because the system was generous, but because it was my legal right. These protections weren’t optional, and they weren’t a privilege—they were the reason I succeeded.

Now, those rights are under attack.

Trump’s nominee for education secretary, Linda McMahon, has been told to “put herself out of a job”—meaning her role isn’t to strengthen education but to dismantle the very department she’s supposed to lead.

Without the Department of Education enforcing these laws, millions of disabled students will face fewer services, fewer trained educators and fewer legal protections.

Denise Stile Marshall, CEO of the Council of Parent Attorneys and Advocates, Inc., put it bluntly to Disability Scoop: “We see no indication that the administration understands its obligation to protect our kids.”

And that’s the terrifying part: They don’t care.

People love to talk about how “resilient” disabled people are, how we should just keep fighting. But here’s the truth: We’re exhausted.

Every single day, we have to fight for basic access, for accommodations, for a seat at the table. And now, we’re fighting to keep the very laws that made our education possible.

If you care about equity, if you care about education, if you care about civil rights—this is your fight too.

Federal Workforce Cuts Are Coming—And Disabled Employees Are the First to Go

Elon Musk, with his son X Æ A-Xii, speaks with President Donald Trump and reporters in the Oval Office at the White House on Tuesday.

When the now infamous “buyout” offer hit my inbox a few weeks ago, I was dumbfounded. Just type, ‘resign’ in the body of the e-mail and we’ll pay you through September. It’s that easy!

I’ve seen Nigerian princes put more energy into their scams.

Federal employees like me—many of whom are disabled—are being left in limbo as the latest executive orders attempt to gut the federal workforce under the guise of “efficiency.” The latest round of chaos?

👉 A deferred resignation program designed to “persuade” employees to quit, which a judge has already paused due to legal challenges.
👉 A hiring freeze that mandates one new hire for every four who leave—essentially ensuring agencies shrink rapidly, with no plan to sustain essential functions.
👉 Agencies signaling they may reevaluate reasonable accommodations, adding yet another layer of red tape for disabled employees who already face enough hurdles.

These executive orders aren’t about “efficiency.” They are designed to break the civil service. And disabled employees—who rely on accommodations to do their jobs—are among the most vulnerable.

A judge temporarily paused the deferred resignation program after unions representing 800,000 civil servants called it an “arbitrary, unlawful, short-fused ultimatum,” according to The Washington Post. Yet OPM is still pushing it, with the White House calling it a “very generous, once-in-a-lifetime offer.”

This administration has already been slapped down in court multiple times for executive overreach. Trump’s orders gutting birthright citizenship, freezing federal grants, and mass-firing USAID employees have all been blocked. That doesn’t stop them from trying.

When agencies need to cut positions fast, who gets targeted first? The
answer isn’t theoretical—it’s happening now:

✅ Federal workers with disabilities already face disproportionate scrutiny. Any reevaluation of accommodations means we’ll have to fight harder just to keep the support we already have.
✅ Layoffs disproportionately harm disabled employees who may have fewer opportunities to find comparable private-sector jobs with the same level of accessibility.
✅ The rhetoric doesn’t match reality. They claim this is about “efficiency,” but efficiency doesn’t look like forcing out experienced professionals while agencies struggle with understaffing.

As one EEOC lawyer put it:

“OPM’s breezily condescending emails don’t mention federal ethics laws at all. They’re either intentionally lying to us or didn’t bother to do basic research. Either way, they can’t be trusted.”

I have been a federal employee, a disability advocate, and a firsthand witness to the barriers disabled people face in the workplace. If these executive orders move forward unchallenged, we will see an exodus of talented, dedicated disabled professionals—pushed out not because we can’t do the job, but because bureaucracy is being weaponized against us.

Trump executive order vows substantial cuts to federal workforce

The Harmful Myth of “Never Letting Disability Stop You” – Why We Need to Rethink Resilience

A screenshot of a tweet by Ryan Honick (@ryanhonick), posted on March 3, 2020, at 1:59 PM. The tweet reads: 'I don’t know who needs to hear this but the “I never let my disability/pain/illness stop me” is an ableist and harmful narrative. Sometimes chronic issues are debilitating and they do stop you. And you shouldn’t be made to feel guilty about it. Period.'

On March 3, 2020, I wrote a tweet that continues to resurface in conversations about disability and chronic illness:

"I don’t know who needs to hear this, but the ‘I never let my disability/pain/illness stop me’ is an ableist and harmful narrative. Sometimes chronic issues are debilitating and they do stop you. And you shouldn’t be made to feel guilty about it. Period."

I wrote that in the midst of the most painful period of my life, after years of chronic pain. I didn’t expect it to go viral, but it did—and it still does. It has been screen-grabbed, reshared, and discussed across Meta, Instagram, Reddit, Inc., and Twitter/X, popping up repeatedly like clockwork. The response? A mix of gratitude, validation, and, of course, criticism.

Too often, society presents disability as something to be overcome rather than lived with. We hear phrases like:

👉 "Mind over matter!"
👉 "You’re so strong for pushing through!"
👉 "You’re such an inspiration!"

While well-intended, these comments send a damaging message: that acknowledging our limitations means we are weak. They erase the reality of chronic pain, energy limitations, and the simple fact that sometimes, our disabilities do stop us—and that’s okay.

This kind of toxic positivity pressures disabled people to perform an unrealistic level of resilience. It tells us that resting or honoring our limits is "giving up." But accepting the reality of disability isn’t defeat—it’s survival.

Over the years, responses to my tweet have fallen into predictable categories:

✅ “Thank you. I needed to hear this.” Many disabled people found validation in the idea that it’s okay to rest, to pause, to honor what their bodies need.

❌ “This is just giving up.” Some—both within and outside the disability community—claimed my perspective promoted a defeatist attitude. 🤦

These reactions highlight a deeper societal issue: many people are uncomfortable with the idea that disability is, at times, limiting. They need the feel-good narrative of disabled people triumphing over adversity because it reassures them that they would do the same in our position. But disability isn’t a morality test—it’s a reality of life.

Disabled people don’t exist to inspire you. We are not here to be motivational backdrops for non-disabled people. We have our own goals, dreams, ambitions, and struggles—just like anyone else.

Here’s the truth:

• Some days, I can push through. Other days, I can’t—and both are valid.
• Disabled people don’t need to perform resilience for your comfort.
• Accepting our limits isn’t "giving up"—it’s respecting our bodies.

We live in a world that tells us we must constantly justify our existence. That we must "overcome" disability rather than demand societal changes that accommodate us. But disability isn’t a battle to be won—it’s a reality to be acknowledged.

“Did You Do Anything Related to DEI?”—The Question That’s Destroying Federal Careers

The Education Department headquarters in Washington on Jan. 15.

I’ve spent over a decade in federal service, working across multiple administrations. I’ve proudly served my country, navigating shifting policies, political climates, and leadership changes. But what’s happening now? It’s not just a shift. It’s an erasure—one that’s putting careers, rights, and fundamental American values on the line.

If you’ve ever attended a DEI training, served on an affinity group, or simply advocated for fairness, you might be next.

This administration isn’t just eliminating DEI programs—it’s purging people. At least 50 Department for Education employees have been placed on leave, yet “almost none of them worked in jobs directly related to DEI,” according to The Washington Post. Their crime? Being associated with diversity efforts in any way.

That’s the threshold for being removed from service.

This isn’t just about diversity training—it’s about who belongs in the federal workforce at all. The U.S. Office of Personnel Management (OPM) sent a mass email giving employees a “choice”: resign now with a deferred resignation package or risk losing your job without guarantees.

A U.S. Department of Justice worker summed it up perfectly to POLITICO “It felt like we were being asked to swear allegiance to a new form of government.”

DEI isn’t a radical concept—it’s the very promise of this country.

We have fought, legally and morally, to build a system where opportunity isn’t dictated by race, gender, ability, or background. And yet, this administration is doing everything it can to undo that progress.

They aren’t just removing DEI from federal offices—they’re erasing it from history. Government websites with EEOC information were taken down for days, making it harder for employees to even report discrimination .

For those of us with disabilities, this isn’t theoretical. I’ve advocated for policies that make federal spaces more accessible—not just for myself, but for millions of Americans who need those same protections.

So when people say “DEI is dead”, as Trump recently did , I hear something else: “People like you don’t belong.”

But here’s the thing: we’re still here. And we are not going quietly.

Federal employees—especially those of us from historically excluded backgrounds—are exhausted. We’re being pushed out, threatened, and told we don’t matter. But the truth is, we are the backbone of this government. Career staff keep the country running regardless of who is in office. We have institutional knowledge that no executive order can erase.

So if you’re reading this, check on your friends in government. We are holding on by a thread. We need allies. We need people to speak out. We need each other.

And if you’re in the private sector thinking, “This won’t affect me”? Think again. Because when DEI disappears from government, it emboldens companies to follow suit. And when institutional knowledge is lost, we all pay the price.

Trump’s DEI purge targets federal workers who did not work in DEI

Trump Blamed DEI for a Plane Crash. Here’s Why That’s Dangerous.

Emergency response units assess airplane wreckage in the Potomac River near Ronald Reagan Washington Airport on January 30, 2025 in Arlington, Virginia.

I wish I could say I was surprised. But I’m not.

A tragic plane crash happens at Ronald Reagan National Airport, and instead of waiting for the facts, instead of mourning the lives lost, Trump rushes to the mic with an all-too-familiar playbook: Blame Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion. No evidence, no logic—just another reckless attempt to weaponize tragedy to attack marginalized communities.

And this time? He went straight for disabled professionals.

In his press conference, Trump suggested that DEI efforts were responsible for putting “unqualified” people in roles like air traffic control, even going so far as to claim that under Biden, the Federal Aviation Administration was hiring people with “severe intellectual disabilities and psychiatric problems” as part of diversity initiatives. He made it sound as if DEI is about lowering the bar, as if safety has taken a backseat to inclusion .

Let’s set the record straight.

DEI doesn’t weaken standards—it strengthens them. It ensures that highly qualified individuals—people who have always had the skills but have historically been shut out due to bias—get a fair shot. The FAA’s hiring requirements haven’t changed. Air traffic controllers still go through the same intense screening, the same rigorous testing, the same high-pressure training. Nobody gets a free pass. The idea that disabled people are handed these jobs without meeting the same standards as everyone else is not just false—it’s insulting.

Maria Town, President of the American Association of People with Disabilities said it best, “Preventing the FAA from hiring people with disabilities does not make planes more safe, It just removes opportunities for disabled people."

And yet, here we are again.

For those of us in the disability community, these kinds of attacks aren’t new. We’re used to people questioning our qualifications, assuming we’re only here because of some imaginary quota. It doesn’t matter how hard we work, how much we achieve—someone, somewhere, will always suggest we don’t belong.

Trump’s words don’t just spread misinformation. They do real harm. They give people permission to question whether disabled professionals should be allowed in the workforce at all. They fuel narratives that say our presence in critical jobs is a “risk” rather than an asset.

Here’s the truth: Disability doesn’t make a person unqualified. It doesn’t make them less capable, less intelligent, or less deserving of responsibility. I know this firsthand. I have spent my career proving what I—and countless others—already knew: We belong.

Trump didn’t just attack DEI. He attacked the very idea that people like me, people like us, deserve to be here.

And we cannot let that stand. The only way to drown out falsehoods is with truth. And the truth is, DEI isn’t the problem—it’s the solution.

Trump Blames DEI, Democrats for Deadly Plane Crash

The Forgotten in the Flames: Why Emergency Planning Must Include Disabled People

A scene of intense wildfires, with palm trees and vegetation engulfed in flames, embers scattering through the air, and a vibrant orange hue dominating the environment.

Reading the recent story from Sonja Sharp at Los Angeles Times about Anthony Mitchell Sr. and his son Justin—a father and son who both had disabilities and died because of inadequate evacuation planning during the devastating LA wildfires—has left me angry and heartbroken. Their deaths were preventable, and yet they were left to wait, pray, and perish. This tragic event reflects systemic failures that disabled people, like me, fear every day.

I can’t ignore how often disabled people are overlooked in emergency planning.

Growing up, I was never truly part of evacuation plans. After 9/11, I remember my math teacher pointing to a football player and saying, “Ryan, that’s your escape plan.” That moment encapsulated the lack of planning, forethought, and value placed on the lives of disabled individuals. Now, as an adult living in a 25-story high-rise in D.C., those fears haven’t gone away. During fire drills or alarms, the elevator shuts down, the hallway doors automatically lock, and I’m left wondering: “Will anyone come?” I’m on supposed watch lists, but those plans are never practiced. The truth is, I don’t have faith that help will come when it matters most.

Anthony Mitchell Sr., an amputee who used a wheelchair, and Justin Mitchell, who had cerebral palsy, couldn’t escape on their own. Firefighters stopped family members from entering the evacuation zone to save them. As the flames closed in, they huddled together, waiting for a rescue that never came.

Officials have known for years that disabled individuals are disproportionately impacted by disasters. A 2019 state audit highlighted how emergency management agencies were woefully unprepared for this threat, despite California being home to 4 million disabled residents, including nearly a quarter-million in Los Angeles​

We can and must do better. Emergency response plans need to be inclusive, regularly practiced, and accessible to everyone. This means involving disabled individuals in planning processes, investing in assistive technology, and ensuring first responders are trained to address the needs of disabled people during disasters.

We’re one-fourth of the global population. Our lives are just as valuable, and our voices need to be heard. Let’s stop apologizing after the fact and start making proactive changes now. The cost of inaction is far too great.

The FTC’s $1M Wake-Up Call to accessiBe: Why Accessibility Overlays Are Failing Us

A colorful and abstract digital artwork depicting a judge's gavel. The gavel is stylized with splashes of vibrant paint in shades of yellow, green, blue, purple, orange, and black, creating a dynamic, graffiti-like effect. The background is a chaotic blend of splattered colors, giving the image an energetic and bold appearance

As someone who uses assistive technology on a daily basis, I understand the value of true accessibility. Overlays purport to perform magic, but instead simply render many websites unusable, particularly for people with screen readers or those using other assistive devices. That’s why the recent $1 million Federal Trade Commission fine against accessiBe is not just a headline — it’s a landmark moment for digital accessibility.

The Federal Trade Commission revealed accessiBe’s deceptive practices, which included paying reviewers to talk about its products. Samuel A.A. Levine, the director of the F.T.C.’s Bureau of Consumer Protection, said in the statement, “Companies seeking assistance to make their websites [accessibility] compliant need to be able to trust that products do what they promise.” When they fail to do so, everyone loses — and so does the disability community.

Advocacy groups have been ringing the alarm for years. National Federation of the Blind condemned accessiBe’s business practices as “disrespectful and misleading” and more than 400 accessibility advocates signed an open letter imploring businesses to abandon automated overlays. And the risks for companies? Huge. In 2021, over 400 organizations utilizing accessibility widgets were sued over non-compliance with accessibility standards.

This isn’t just about the failings of one company; we need to rethink our whole approach to accessibility in the digital age. You might think overlays are the solution, but the reality is, there are no shortcuts to inclusion. Real accessibility is the result of audits, user testing with people who have disabilities and compliance with WCAG standards. It’s not just about keeping away from lawsuits — it’s about building an internet that benefits everyone.

The FTC’s action should be a wake-up call. Convenience should not come at the expense of inclusion, transparency, and accountability — so it’s time for businesses to prioritize it.

FTC orders AI accessibility startup accessiBe to pay $1M for misleading advertising