This year marked my third time attending the UNISON National Disabled Members Conference as a delegate. The conference moves around the country, and this year it was held in Brighton from 24th to 26th October. Although it was my third conference, it was a year of firsts. It was the first time I had written a motion and the first time I had spoken at the conference. I rolled up to the lectern in my wheelchair, which was automatically lowered to the right height for me to speak. A small detail, perhaps, but a great example of accessibility being built in from the outset, something I would come to appreciate throughout the conference.

As an occupational therapist, I am used to professional conferences focused on presentations, research, learning and networking. Trade union conferences are quite different. Although there are some speakers, much of the time is spent debating motions submitted by members and agreeing on the actions the union should take.

I remember attending my first conference and wondering what the point of some of the debates was. People would speak in support of motions, often making similar points, and we would inevitably run out of time. In the three years I have attended, I have never actually heard anyone speak against a motion. Why spend so much time debating something everyone seems to agree on?

Three conferences later, I think I am beginning to understand.

Understanding the Value of Debate

What I have come to appreciate is that the debates are about much more than agreeing or disagreeing with a motion. They provide opportunities for disabled workers to share experiences, highlight inequalities and raise issues that others may not have considered. Even when everyone agrees with a motion, contributions from delegates bring different perspectives, helping us develop a greater understanding of the barriers disabled people face.

For me, this is where the real value lies. It is about listening, learning and developing a collective understanding that can influence the priorities and actions of the union. It is also about disabled people speaking for themselves, rather than having others decide what they need. Having written a motion and spoken in support of it this year, I felt much more part of that process.

Uniforms That Work for Disabled Workers

My first motion focused on something I think is often overlooked when we talk about workplace accessibility: uniforms. We frequently consider buildings, equipment and working arrangements, but how often do we think about the clothes people are expected to wear?

Uniforms can create barriers in many ways, including difficulties with fastenings, clothing designed without wheelchair users in mind, sensory sensitivities to fabrics or seams, and designs that do not accommodate physical impairments or long-term health conditions.

What I wanted to highlight through my motion, and when I spoke in support of it, was that this is about much more than uniforms. It is about who we think about when we design and implement workplace policies. If disabled workers have to request adaptations because their needs were not considered when a uniform was introduced, what does that tell us about whose needs were thought about in the first place?

Reasonable adjustments remain essential, but accessibility should not depend entirely on disabled people identifying barriers, disclosing personal information and asking for something different. We need to consider a wider range of needs from the outset, while recognising that individual adjustments will sometimes still be necessary.

My motion called on UNISON to better understand the scale of the issue and work with disabled workers and employers to develop solutions that consider physical access, sensory requirements and other needs. Ultimately, it is about creating uniforms that work for everybody.

For me, this reflects a wider issue about inclusion in employment. Too often, disabled workers are expected to adapt to workplaces that were never designed with them in mind, rather than workplaces being designed to accommodate human diversity.

Disability Does Not Exist in Isolation

Another aspect of the conference that continues to stand out is the diversity of experiences within the disabled community. Although we may experience common barriers, our experiences are also shaped by race, sexuality, gender identity and other aspects of who we are.

Through my studies, I have become increasingly interested in intersectionality, but there is a difference between reading about it and listening to people describe how it affects their lives. Two motions particularly stood out to me this year.

The first called for justice for Professor Jason Arday, a Black autistic academic who died in August following intense public scrutiny of his academic and professional history. An independent review is examining the University of Cambridge’s actions and the support available to him before his death.

What struck me about the debate was the question of how we judge people’s achievements and whether we genuinely recognise different routes to success. It made me reflect on how someone’s competence can be questioned when their journey does not fit conventional expectations, and how racism and ableism may intersect in those judgements. It also raised important questions about the responsibilities of institutions towards the people who work within them.

The second motion concerned the Change the Law campaign following the Supreme Court’s ruling on the meaning of sex under the Equality Act 2010. What stayed with me were the contributions from delegates describing how they had been unable to use the toilets at the conference this year.

As a disabled person, this particularly resonated with me. Access to suitable toilets is something many disabled people have to consider every day. It can determine where we go, how long we stay and whether we can participate at all. Hearing others describe barriers to something so fundamental, although arising from different experiences of exclusion, made me reflect on how access to everyday facilities can become a means of restricting participation.

These debates reminded me that intersectionality is not simply an academic concept. They challenged me to think beyond my own experiences and consider whose voices are heard, whose needs are recognised and who may still be excluded when we advocate for disability rights.

What Does an Accessible Conference Actually Look Like?

Perhaps one of the things that impressed me most was the thought that had gone into making the conference accessible. Having attended many conferences over the years, I have often found accessibility treated as something additional, with reasonable adjustments requested, negotiated or worked around rather than considered from the beginning.

At the UNISON conference, there was a noticeable commitment to doing things differently. Communication was considered through written information and sign language interpretation, while the venue layout, organisation of the conference space and pace of the programme reflected an awareness that delegates would have different access requirements.

Of course, it was not perfect. People’s access needs can differ and sometimes conflict, and no event can claim to have removed every barrier. However, it was definitely the most accessible conference environment I have experienced. What impressed me was not any single adjustment, but the overall approach. Accessibility felt built into the planning rather than added afterwards, with recognition that participation involves how people communicate, move around, process information, manage their energy and contribute throughout the day.

Another thing I appreciated was that there was no question about my bringing a personal assistant (PA) to support me when away from my usual environment. My husband, as always, accompanied me, driving the six hours to Brighton and back. Travelling by train as a wheelchair user can be challenging at the best of times, and given the weather-related disruption to rail services that weekend, I was particularly grateful we had driven. His support also meant I could conserve more of my energy for the conference rather than using so much of it simply getting there.

However, while the conference itself was incredibly accessible, our hotel room was another story. The accessible room did not meet my needs, with a bed so high I needed assistance to get into it, a very low toilet and a shower chair on a tiled floor that became slippery when wet. Without my husband’s support, I would not have managed to attend. I am incredibly grateful that he gives up his time to support me in participating in things that are meaningful to me.

I also raised the accessibility issues with the hotel, which is never an easy conversation. Sometimes you just want to get on with your life without having to explain, complain or challenge yet another barrier. But if we don’t highlight these issues, how will organisations learn? The difficulty is that constantly having to advocate for yourself is exhausting, particularly when you are already managing the additional demands of inaccessible environments.

It was another reminder that accessibility cannot stop at the conference venue. Travel and accommodation are also part of the experience, and all can determine whether someone can attend. My husband’s support enables me to do things that matter to me, but it should not be what makes an inaccessible hotel room usable.

There was also a clear connection with my motion about uniforms. Both raise the same question: who are we considering when we design something? Whether it is a conference, workplace policy, hotel room or uniform, decisions made during planning can either enable participation or create barriers that disabled people are then expected to overcome. It is something I think other conference organisers, including those within healthcare and occupational therapy, could learn from.

Finding My Voice

Looking back over the three conferences I have attended, I can see how my understanding and participation have changed. At my first conference, I was largely observing and questioning the process. This year, I was contributing to it, bringing forward an issue I felt strongly about and asking the union to take action.

I have also come to appreciate that collective action is not about everyone having the same experiences. It is about bringing different perspectives together, listening to one another and deciding what needs to change.

As an occupational therapist, I often talk about participation, inclusion and occupational justice. This conference has given me another perspective on what those principles look like in practice. Participation is not simply about being present. It is about having the opportunity, support and access to contribute, influence decisions and be heard.

The UNISON National Disabled Members Conference may look very different from the professional conferences I am used to, but perhaps that is exactly why I continue to learn so much from attending.

And this year, rather than just listening to the debate, I found my own voice within it.

Leave a Reply