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“No one else would ever hire you!” my manager told me. I was in my early twenties, recently disabled, and still coming to terms with my new limitations. The disagreement we’d found ourselves in had nothing to do with my disability, my performance, or my reasonable adjustments, but there it was – the workplace bully’s trump-card when dealing with young disabled subordinates - “no one else would ever hire you”.
There’s a particularly toxic power dynamic that can only occur when an employer knows that you will face discrimination if you try to leave.
Employment for disabled people is often couched in terms of how it benefits us –the gift of meaningful work! - rather than the mutually beneficial exchange we understand it to be for non-disabled workers. There is an expectation that you will be grateful, loyal, compliant (over and beyond what non-disabled employees are expected to be). You owe that to your employer because they’ve done you a favour, performed an act of charity, by hiring you at all, and well, “no one else would ever hire you”.
I’ve been hired by quite a few people since those words were uttered, so, as it turns out, my manager was dead wrong, but the implied threat of long-term unemployment and poverty was not entirely without teeth, and it landed with a gut punch that I still remember viscerally two decades on.
My reasonable adjustment back then was flexible hours, which had zero impact on my work. I met deadlines and consistently received positive feedback. My manager and I both knew damn well that it was not my performance as an employee that might make me unemployable elsewhere, but the ableism inherent in employment systems.
When job-hunting as a chronically ill, disabled person, the first barrier is the reduced pool of accessible jobs. Rule out “full-time”, “requires driver’s licence”, and anything involving standing or speaking for long periods, and the pickings are slim. That’s before you even start the conversation about flexible hours and working from home.
Working in the disability advocacy sector, I’ve had the opportunity to speak with a lot of disabled people about their experiences of employment (or unemployment). Some find themselves barred from opportunities because their abilities are underestimated. Those with less visible conditions are more likely to be penalised for failing to perform “abledness” on the job (regardless of any reasonable adjustments supposedly in place). Some find themselves ghosted after bringing up reasonable adjustments at an interview, but raising them after an offer is made can also be risky. An employer who feels deceived on day one can make life difficult.
Legally, employers are required to provide reasonable adjustments to disabled employees, but unfortunately, the rules are vague enough (and ableism is rife enough) that “reasonable” often translates to whatever an employer finds “convenient” or “preferable” rather than what is reasonably achievable. “It wouldn’t be fair to other employees” and “it goes against our policy” are common phrases we hear when our reasonable adjustments are denied.
Challenging discriminatory employment practice via The Human Rights Commission is always an option, of course, but when your life is already an obstacle course of bureaucracy (NDIS, Centrelink), most of us simply don’t have the spoons for yet another round of evidence gathering for less than certain results.
A system that holds employers more accountable to the Disability Discrimination Act, without placing the burden of proof on disabled employees, would go a long way toward solving the problem.
Systems involving quotas, or stronger reporting requirements around Disability Action Plans and subsequent progress might be a start.
Employers might also adopt more flexible approaches, improving the morale (and by extension the work ethic) of the whole workplace by routinely meeting everyone’s reasonable adjustments rather than making “special exceptions” for disabled people.
For example, data now shows that employees are overall more productive when they have the option to work from home, yet more and more workplaces are enforcing back-to-office policies post-COVID. Disabled people who had new opportunities during lockdowns now find themselves shut back out of the workforce, while the compulsory commute is unlikely to be motivating for those who can but would just rather not.
Recruitment could involve routinely advertising positions as potential job shares. Employers could seek the best combinations of people with complimentary skills and abilities, rather than limiting their options to people with the capacity to work full-time. I once (successfully) applied for a full-time job with a friend, including a proposal for how we would work together (splitting the hours). Two disabled people were gainfully employed in a role that wasn’t accessible to either of us the way it was originally advertised, and the project we managed together was a great success.
A range of exclusionary workplace conventions could easily be set aside with a little innovation from employers, who could then gain access to the best possible candidates from a more diverse pools of applicants.
My own access to the workforce remains sketchy, and I have, over the years, regularly returned to applying for project grants, or offering sole trader services, to stay afloat.
Ultimately, the best and safest employer I’ve had, the one that consistently met my access needs without a fuss, has always been myself.