Inclusion Without Limits   3 min Inclusion is In…convenient?

At a time when presentation matters more than substance, inclusion has become a trend rather than a commitment. Among those supposedly welcomed into these spaces, people with disabilities are left asking whether inclusion extends beyond rhetoric. Ancy Alexander examines what it takes to enter a setting that labels itself inclusive while systematically sidelining the disabled.

According to the World Health Organisation (as of March 2023), an estimated 1.3 billion people around the world live with a significant disability. I want to park this number here and return to it in a bit.

I was a little over four years old when I was diagnosed with partial Cerebral Palsy. The condition affected my gait and balance. For a middle-class Indian family residing in the UAE in the late 80s, this felt like a cruel verdict - a physically disabled daughter.

My parents were told that very little could be done to reverse the condition. What could be done was to prevent it from worsening through regular physiotherapy and physical activities such as swimming and dancing. That is how dance was prescribed for me - little did my parents (or I) know it would be for life.

Dancing in shame

A little over six years old, I began my training under the sagacious Guru (Sanskrit for mentor, master), Melattur Late Sri S. Natarajan. Growing up, I despised having to show up to dance class before my batchmates for additional warm-ups. I despised repeating the same steps. I despised practising at home, which my mother ensured I did.

I repeat despised because, today, as a dancer, choreographer and creative movement facilitator, I realise it is a luxury to despise it. Everything I considered boring and frustrating between the ages of six and ten is something many people with disabilities don’t even get the chance to dislike.
  Long before inclusion was trending, I was being trained in dance and in life by a teacher who focused on what persistent training could achieve instead of pushing me to the back of the class. What I internalised at that young age - that showing up, training, and practising are non-negotiable - would eventually become the foundation of my advocacy work today.

In school, when I expressed interest in joining the school dance troupe, I was told, “Don’t waste your time.” In the 90s, mainstream schools were no place for a student with a physical disability trying to explore talent. Back then, no one was handing out awards and recognition to schools in the UAE for admitting students with disabilities, let alone creating pathways for their extracurricular development.

Inclusion...everywhere

Inclusion is “in” now loudly and visibly. With the disability population rising, mainstream schools and universities want to be seen as preferred institutions for students with different disabilities. Up until the early 2000s, disabled students were accepted only if they could keep up academically. Without a shadow teacher, which many families could not afford, the student had to manage independently and cause minimal “disturbance”.

Fast forward to today: educational establishments proudly identify as inclusive environments for neurodivergent and physically disabled students. They may even face backlash for refusing students from the People of Determination community.

This change is largely the result of parents who spent years challenging systems and proving with patience and persistence that their child with a disability, even those without an extraordinary IQ, deserved a seat in the classroom.

In recent years, as a part-time lecturer in communications at universities in the UAE, I have been pleased to receive lists of students with disabilities before each term. Many institutions now have dedicated departments, too.

However, many of these institutions overlook one thing - educators who are People of Determination. An inclusive school or university looks impressive on a prospectus or website. But what about educators who braved earlier systems and workplaces long before inclusion became a hashtag?

Just because we survived those systems, is the expectation that we continue being “above average” while causing minimal interruption to institutional convenience?

Although many individuals with disabilities may indicate they require no adjustments, is that an excuse not to offer simple things like parking access, regular check-ins, or ask whether improvements can be made?  

Inclusion in real

While inclusion is trending across education and corporates in the UAE, many neurodivergent and physically disabled individuals don’t request any support - to avoid being seen as less capable or inconvenient. After all, not everyone is Stephen Hawking, whose brilliance the world queued for.

Hiring people with visible disabilities has become an easy way for corporations to appear empathetic and inclusive. Consider the number of disabled individuals in customer-facing roles versus those in senior management positions. Employing individuals because they have a disability and employing capable individuals with disabilities who contribute meaningfully are two different things. Tokenism is not inclusion.

Similarly, performance opportunities offered to People of Determination at corporate or cultural events have become a visible form of inclusion. But does stage time equal meaningful participation? The stigma of having a child with a disability still runs deep in many communities. This may be why many parents run toward any opportunity that offers a cup, certificate, or moment in the spotlight. In the rush for visibility, what is often overlooked is the importance of systematic, regular training in any discipline.

This is where the conversation on token inclusion needs to deepen. Stage time without training is visibility, not development. A photograph or video on social media can be a representation, not empowerment. A ramp at a location is access, not opportunity. Meaningful inclusion demands investment of time, resources, training, and long-term commitment. Anything less risks reducing disability to a visual symbol of corporate or social sympathy.

Government and private rehabilitation and recreational centres for People of Determination, along with consulate-affiliated support groups such as Prerana under the Indian Consulate of Dubai, have been around for a long time. However, now, compared to just 15 years ago, there is significantly greater support in the UAE for families and caregivers of individuals with disabilities to establish and run non-profit organisations and community-driven initiatives such as Team Angel Wolf, FAME, Heroes of Hope, and G3Enable, to name a few.

While community is essential, it has also resulted in an increase in the number of companies, including performing arts establishments, using this desire to belong as fuel for marketing and CSR (Corporate Social Responsibility) purposes.

There is no substitute for training and practice in any art form or sport. The benefits of regular practice far outweigh stage time. This is what I have tried to share through the adaptive dance workshops I have conducted since 2019. It has not been easy because we live in a world of trending music and choreography – hook steps learned by watching short videos on repeat.

In this setting, dancing to less popular music, learning adaptive choreographies, and exploring creative expression may seem dull compared to what corporates and communities offer with performance opportunities and social-media visibility. For the People of Determination community, token opportunities are not enough.

Meaningful opportunities to participate, train, and develop in education, workplaces, and the arts are essential. If galas and fundraisers alone could end hunger, no one in this world would sleep hungry. Similarly, ramps and performances are good to have, but they are not enough to ensure even partial inclusion of approximately 1.3 billion people with a disability on this planet. Inclusion can be realised only when those most affected - People of Determination - are respectfully and responsibly involved in shaping the decisions that impact their lives. The cost is not their participation, but society’s will to change.

April 2026