Author: admin_bmedia@able2

When my son was diagnosed with autism and developmental delays in the 1980s, I did what any parent does—I imagined his future. But in one meeting, a professional told me bluntly: “Your child’s not going to be a brain surgeon.”

I remember thinking: I don’t need him to be a brain surgeon. I just want him to have a good life.

That simple wish has required 40 years of relentless advocacy. But even back then, I knew I shouldn’t have had to fight this hard. 

In the 1990s, when I advocated for my son to be integrated into a regular classroom alongside special programming, I was almost always the lone voice at the table. Professionals told me all the reasons why it couldn’t be done. 

But we got there. Through high school, he was fully integrated. Things were adapted to meet his needs. He had friends he could eat lunch with, assistants who supported him, and a life that included him in his community.

It took exhausting advocacy. It took being his everyday champion—and having other champions in his life: grandparents, aunts, uncles, a network of people who believed he deserved more than survival.

After 40 years, I can tell you this with certainty: you don’t raise a child with a disability without a network of support. People have told me that I was brave or courageous, but I was simply doing what I had to do for my child to live a meaningful and fulfilling life. 

Watching my son take the bus alone for the first time terrified me. But he wanted that independence—and part of being in a community means trusting him to navigate it. I’ve had to learn that it’s not my life; it’s his. My role is to help facilitate what he wants, not always what I think he needs.

Today, my son makes friends wherever he goes. He enjoys his work and chores. He likes working out, going to the mall, having his special lunch every week—just like anyone else. He’s a nice, loving person living the life he wants.

And that’s all I had ever hoped for— that he lives his best life.

But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t still need champions. We’re planning ahead for when we’re no longer here, ensuring his sibling is involved, making sure he has advocates beyond family. Because the reality is, we all need someone in our corner when life gets hard. We all need someone to champion for us when we’re too exhausted to advocate for ourselves. 

People need people to thrive. It’s not just a disability issue— it’s a human one.

We have indeed come a long way since the 80s, but we haven’t come far enough. Parents today are still advocating as hard, or even more than we did decades ago. They’re still navigating fragmented services alone, still fighting for inclusion as if it’s optional, still hearing “no” when they ask for their children to be treated with dignity.

It’s exhausting. It’s frustrating. But it doesn’t have to be this way.

Not every person with a disability has a parent who can advocate. Not every parent has the network of support we had. And even those who do shouldn’t have to fight alone.

This Giving Tuesday, I’m asking you to become an Everyday Champion for people with disabilities.

Your support means a parent doesn’t have to be the lone voice at the table. It means a young adult has someone advocating for housing, employment, and independence as their parents age. It means people with disabilities have champions beyond their families—professionals, allies, and community members who believe they deserve more than survival.

When you support ABLE2, you’re strengthening the advocacy, programs, and networks that ensure no one fights alone. You’re creating the inclusive community we should have built decades ago.

My son grew up to be a nice, loving person who enjoys his life. That’s what makes me proud—not what he accomplished by society’s standards, but that he’s living the life he wants.

Every person with a disability deserves that. They deserve champions who will advocate when they’re exhausted, fight when systems fail them, and believe in their potential even when others don’t.

This Giving Tuesday, will you be an Everyday Champion for people with disabilities?

Champion lives of meaning and joy today: https://www.able2.org/be-an-everyday-champion/

Published by

Heather Lacey

Experienced Non-Profit Executive Director

Read Heather’s other articles here

Canadian businesses face a stark paradox: a critical labor shortage of more than 527,000 vacancies remains unfilled, while 740,000 qualified, eager Canadians can’t find work. The talent gap is right in front of us, but outdated hiring practices are keeping too many employers from tapping into it, costing the Canadian economy up to $422 billion in lost potential.

For years, conversations about hiring people with disabilities have leaned on the same language; ‘it’s the right thing to do’, ‘it’s about corporate social responsibility’, ‘it’s a moral imperative’. It’s all true, but also only part of the story. Disability inclusion isn’t just a moral imperative, but a strategic business advantage. 

The numbers don’t lie— businesses excelling in disability inclusion report 1.6 times more revenue and 2.6 times more net income compared to competitors. Research from the Institute for Work & Health shows that closing the employment gap could yield between $252.8 to $422.7 billion into Canada’s economy, create 450,000 new jobs by 2030 and add $50 billion to Canada’s GDP by 2030. This is more than just inclusion talk, but a growth strategy. 

Yet here we are, facing talent shortages while overlooking a highly skilled, diverse talent pool. The disconnect isn’t about capability. What is holding employers back is the outdated misconception that accommodation is costly or complicated. In reality, most accommodations like flexible schedules, remote work, adjustable workstations, are low-cost practices that benefit all employees. Research shows that for every dollar invested in accommodations, companies earn an average $28 return. Retention tells the same story. One franchise study showed that stores employing staff with disabilities saw 35% turnover rate, compared to 75% industry average. 

The accommodation problem is a myth. The real problem is that workplaces have built their systems around an outdated idea of the ‘ideal employee’, and anyone who doesn’t fit that narrow mould is treated as requiring special treatment. 

When employers remove unnecessary barriers and build supportive cultures, everyone benefits. Productivity, engagement, and loyalty increase. Teams become more innovative and resilient.

When I became Executive Director of ABLE2 in August 2018, I could never have imagined that just two years later, a global pandemic would push us into remote work. I expected challenges and pushback, but what I got instead was a revelation.

Transportation and scheduling barriers were removed. Staff had the flexibility to manage health and family matters, and overall productivity went up. Team members who found our office environment overwhelming could finally focus without the sensory overload. We extended this same flexibility to the people we support, meeting them where they are, and how it works best for them. 

We didn’t set out to reinvent workplace accessibility. But the pandemic revealed just how many barriers we had quietly accepted as “normal.” In September, we made a strategic shift to fully remote operations and closed our office space. We see this as a competitive edge where our staff is more productive, more loyal and more innovative. And we better serve our community because our workforce reflects it. 

As leaders and employers, you can build inclusive hiring practices through: 

• Accessible job postings: Use plain language, focusing on essential skills and clearly state that accommodation is available. Ensure websites, forms and assessments are accessible.
• Diversifying your outreach: Work with disability-focused agencies and participate in job fairs to connect with skilled candidates.
• Accessible interviews: Offer interview format options such as video, written or in-person to suit diverse needs, and encourage candidates to request accommodation upfront, ensuring they can perform at their best. 
• Embedding support systems: Ensure tools, technology, and workspace adjustments are in place. Adopt a person-centered approach by asking candidates what would allow them to bring their full potential to work. 
• Fostering a culture of belonging: Train teams on disability inclusion, make inclusion visible in leadership, and embed it into company values. 
• Investing in career growth: Pair employees with mentors, create advancement pathways, and diversify leadership. 

October is National Disability Employment Month, and we celebrate employees with disabilities who make our workplaces more inclusive, innovative, and resilient. But it’s also a moment to confront the barriers that remain and how much potential remains untapped. 

Employers who embrace disability inclusion gain what others overlook: exceptional talent, innovative teams, and a stronger connection to diverse markets. People with disabilities bring lived experience, adaptability, and problem-solving skills that are invaluable in a changing economy. They have long made significant contributions to our communities, and at ABLE2, we see them thrive and have meaningful and fulfilling lives when they are empowered and given opportunities to participate in the community. 

Expertise, support, and qualified candidates already exist. The real question isn’t whether you can afford to hire people with disabilities, it’s whether you can afford not to. The future of work is inclusive. Will your company lead or lag behind? 

Leaders, it’s a perfect time to ask yourselves— what would it take to transform these barriers into opportunities?

Published by

Heather Lacey

Experienced Non-Profit Executive Director

Read Heather’s other articles here

As a parent who raised a child with a disability, I know firsthand the feelings of exhaustion and helplessness that shapes our daily reality. When my son was diagnosed with autism, the hardest part wasn’t his diagnosis. It was realizing I had to raise him in a world that saw his limitations rather than his potential. 

Like every parent, my wish was simple: for my child to be accepted, to grow, and to thrive alongside his peers. But back in the 1980s, children with disabilities were often segregated from their peers, and programs would routinely turn us away because they “weren’t equipped” to support him. I spent countless sleepless nights researching, advocating, and fighting for my son’s fundamental right to simply belong. 

Things have progressed since then, but what I learned, and what drives my work now, is that the barriers our children face aren’t inherent to their disabilities. They are constructed by systems that haven’t learned to see ability within difference. 

This experience has given me deep empathy for parents of children with Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder (FASD). In addition to living with the daily realities of supporting a child with a lifelong brain injury, these families also face the weight of the stigma and judgment attached to the disability— a burden that compounds their isolation and exhaustion. 

FASD is a brain-based disability resulting from prenatal alcohol exposure, impacting critical executive functions including memory, learning, judgment, decision-making, among others. (Canada FASD Research Network) It affects over 1.5 million Canadians, but many remain undiagnosed, hidden by stigma and misunderstanding. Unlike other disabilities, FASD carries the additional judgment towards birth mothers, unfounded assumptions about choice, and misconceptions about prevention that create shame where there should be support, silence where there should be advocacy.

The consequences are devastating. Parents find themselves navigating systems designed for other disabilities, working with well-meaning professionals who lack FASD-specific knowledge. Their children’s unique needs— the distinct ways they process information, respond to environments, or regulate emotions— are often misunderstood as defiance, manipulation, or poor parenting. And when these young people age out of social services at 18, often without proper supports, they face increased risks of substance abuse, homelessness, and criminal justice involvement. 

The economic impact is also staggering at $1.8 billion annually in Canada. But the human cost is immeasurable: families fighting to be understood, young people struggling to fit into a world that has made no space for their way of being. 

In recognizing this gap and the costs of ignoring it, ABLE2 launched the Fetal Alcohol Resource Program in 2015 in partnership with Kids Brain Health Network (KBHN), the Children’s Aid Society of Ottawa, and CHEO to provide support to people of all ages with FASD and their families. The goal was simple but urgent: provide specialized, evidence-based support to people with FASD and their families, while building the knowledge of service providers across sectors. 

Since then, we have seen what becomes possible when stigma is replaced with compassionate understanding. Families who once felt isolated now have robust networks of support. Educators, justice workers, healthcare providers, and social workers trained by FARP bring new insights, empathy, and evidence-based strategies to their work. And most importantly, individuals with FASD once dismissed as “non-compliant” or “difficult,” are finally being recognized for what they have always been: people with unique needs, considerable strengths, and the right to thrive.

I was privileged to eventually find the support that helped my son thrive. Today, he is supported to live the life he wants, and contributes meaningfully to his community. But I carry the sober awareness that this outcome isn’t available to every family, and I stand in solidarity with parents who simply want their children to thrive, to have meaningful and fulfilling lives, and to belong without condition.

September marks FASD Awareness Month, with this year’s powerful theme: “Everyone Plays A Part: Take Action!” I want to challenge all of us, as individuals, professionals, and community members, to move far beyond the comfortable realm of awareness, toward the work of compassionate understanding and systemic change. 

That means recognizing FASD as the complex, lifelong neurological disability that it is. It means training professionals across sectors in FASD-informed approaches that honour both challenges and capabilities. Building communities that offer practical support without judgment, resources without shame. Most critically, shifting our collective narrative from blame to shared responsibility, acknowledging that creating inclusive, supportive environments isn’t just good policy or compliance, it’s a moral imperative. 

Every child deserves to be seen not through the narrow lens of their challenges, but through the promise of their potential. Children with FASD aren’t ‘difficult’ and the question is not whether these children can succeed— it’s whether we’ll finally build the supports that allow them to succeed. 

Beyond September, I invite you to play your part for families caring for individuals with FASD. Listen to their stories with empathy. Advocate for FASD-informed training in your workplace and community. Support policies that recognize FASD as a disability deserving of accommodation and support. Challenge stigma wherever you encounter it.

When we choose understanding over judgment, support over stigma, and action over awareness alone, we don’t just change outcomes for individuals with FASD, but we truly become the inclusive, compassionate society we claim to be.

Published by

Heather Lacey

Experienced Non-Profit Executive Director

Read Heather’s other articles here

As Executive Director of ABLE2, I see every day how systems that were never designed with disability in mind create unnecessary barriers. People wait months, or even years, for basic supports. Programs are underfunded, social services are stretched thin, and accessibility is often treated as an afterthought, available only to those who know to ask. Charities like ours step in where systems fall short, but we too, are underfunded and overstretched. The result? People who simply want to belong, pursue their passions, and live meaningful lives hit barrier after barrier.

I recently came across a LinkedIn post by Edmund Asiedu who said “You could become a person with a disability before this year ends.” This is a hard truth we don’t talk about enough. Disability can happen to anyone, at any time. And when it does, no one should have to fight for access, dignity, or inclusion.

Building on Edmund’s point, ask yourself: if you knew disability was going to be part of your future, would it change how you think about public spaces, workplaces, transit systems, or digital platforms? Would you demand programs and services that open doors instead of closing them? Would you demand full accessibility, not someday, but today?

This is the reality for nearly 8 million Canadians living with disabilities, and it could be yours too. Accessibility is not just about ramps or captions. It’s about equity. It’s about designing systems, spaces, and policies that work for everyone from the start. Think about curb cuts on sidewalks built for wheelchair access, but equally useful for parents with strollers, delivery workers, travellers with rolling luggage, and seniors. Inclusion benefits everyone.

We cannot keep patching the gaps in systems. We need to redesign them from the ground up. That means adequately funding disability programs, streamlining access to services, embedding accessibility into every policy and product, and including people with disabilities at every decision-making table.

At ABLE2, lived experience drives everything we do. People with disabilities sit on our Board. Program users shape our events and advocacy efforts. Over the years, we’ve seen that when accessibility is built in from the start, barriers come down, and everyone is empowered to thrive, advocate for themselves, and feel a sense of belonging.

Imagine a world where nobody has to ask to be included, because accessibility is already built in from the start. 

We don’t need to wait until disability happens to us or our loved ones. We can build better systems, spaces, and supports now. Inclusion is not a favour to anyone. It’s a shared responsibility and the smartest investment we can make for our future. 

If you knew disability was going to be part of your life tomorrow, what would you change today?

Published by

Heather Lacey

Experienced Non-Profit Executive Director

Read Heather’s other articles here

Every July, we celebrate Disability Pride Month to honour the history, culture, and contributions of the disability community. The celebration traces its roots to 1990, when the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) was signed into law. This landmark legislation was a hard-won victory in the fight for civil rights, accessibility and inclusion. Since then, Disability Pride has evolved far beyond policy. It has become a powerful movement—one that confronts stigma and reclaims disability identity with pride.

For too long, disability has been framed through the lens of limitation: something to be fixed, pitied, or overcome. Disability Pride flips that narrative. It is not about inspiration or sympathy. It’s saying, “We belong— not in spite of our disabilities, but with them.” It affirms that disability is not a flaw, but a vital part of human diversity. And in a world that often devalues it, to be proud of a disabled identity is a radical act of resistance. It challenges ableism at its core and reclaims space that has too often excluded them. 

Disability Pride offers a vision for the kind of world we are working to build. A world where accessibility is the standard, where disabled leadership is expected, and where interdependence is valued. Disability Pride is a call to action for systems, institutions, and individuals to move beyond performative inclusion, toward real, structural change.

At ABLE2, we believe real inclusion demands more than policy statements and good intentions. It requires action that is informed by people with lived experience. That is why we ensure people with disabilities are meaningfully involved in shaping our programs, services, and strategy. From our Board of Directors to advisory committees and event planning teams, their voices are not just included but are leading the conversations. 

We put this commitment into action through all our programs and services that are built with inclusion at their core. For instance, the Matching Program combats social isolation by fostering genuine one-to-one friendships between people with disabilities and community volunteers— relationships rooted in mutual respect and belonging. Through the Reach Legal Referral Services, we ensure that individuals with disabilities can access justice and assert their rights.

Inclusion is our operating principle. Every program, policy, and conversation begins with a question: How are we building an inclusive community where every person is seen as able, important, and valued? Because without intentional action, inclusion remains a promise unfulfilled.

You too can have a hand in building a more inclusive world. Here are a few ways to take meaningful action:

• Support disability-led initiatives. Invest your time, resources, and platforms in organizations run by and for people with disabilities. 
• Educate yourself. It’s not the job of people with disabilities to educate everyone. Take initiative to read books, watch documentaries, and follow disability advocates online.
• Audit your spaces. Identify inaccessible practices and methods in your workplace or community, whether it’s physical, digital or cultural. Who is left out and why? Actively advocate for change.
• Speak up against ableism. Silence can be complicity. If you hear ableist jokes or see discriminatory behaviour, speak up respectfully, even when it’s uncomfortable.
• Amplify voices. Listen and ensure that people with disabilities are not only invited to the table, but empowered to shape the conversation.

Being an ally requires humility, listening, and a commitment to equity. You will not always get it right, but staying open to feedback and continuing to learn is what makes you a true ally.

As efforts around Diversity, Equity, Inclusion, and Belonging (DEIB) continue to be threatened, it’s more important than ever to hold the line. Disability Pride matters because inclusion is not a trend. It is a human right. The fight is far from over, but we are not waiting for permission to be proud. The disability community is here, leading, creating, and thriving. 

This Disability Pride Month, let us move beyond all the talk and commit to action. How will you show up for the disability community?

Published by

Heather Lacey

Experienced Non-Profit Executive Director

Read Heather’s other articles here