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

“What Did You Do This Week?” – The Bureaucratic Nightmare That Sent Federal Employees Into a Frenzy

A futuristic office scene featuring Elon Musk in a suit, sitting at a high-tech workstation. He stares at the screen with an intense, authoritative expression. The glowing text overlay reads: 'What did you do this week?'

Anything interesting hit your inbox this weekend?

Nothing says "competent workforce management" like a weekend email from U.S. Office of Personnel Management (OPM) demanding that 2.3 million federal employees submit bullet points of their accomplishments.

And the best part? Even the government doesn’t know what to do.

Some agencies: “Reply immediately.”
Others: “DO NOT REPLY.”
NOAA: National Oceanic & Atmospheric Administration: “Maybe reply, maybe don’t? We’ll get back to you Monday.”

It’s a choose-your-own-adventure, but every ending involves getting yelled at.

Why is this happening?

Because Elon Musk—a man who spends more time posting memes than running his companies—has apparently been put in charge of federal workforce management. His grand strategy? A mass email. And nothing says ‘productive workforce’ like an email from your new billionaire overlord.

Which is adorable because absolutely no one is reading all these emails.

🔹 That’s 11.5 million bullet points.
🔹 If printed, 700,000 filing cabinets of bureaucratic joy.
🔹 At best, this is going straight into a Microsoft Excel sheet that an intern will delete in three weeks.

But wait, it gets better.

Musk implied that failure to respond = resignation.

Which is, in legal terms...completely illegal.

OPM literally said mass email responses must be explicitly voluntary. Yet here we are, wondering if silence will get people removed from payroll.

Meanwhile, employees are being told to CC their managers. Because nothing builds trust like looping in your boss on an email you don’t understand.

So what’s the right move?

Some agencies handled this beautifully:

The Washington Post reports:

U.S. Secret Service almost had agents send: “This week, I accomplished 100% of my job. Also, I exceeded expectations.”

Meanwhile, a U.S. Geological Survey (USGS) Survey employee simply replied:"I categorically refuse."

Which, frankly, is the energy we all need.

If you’re a federal employee caught in this mess, just copy-paste this:

To: Elon Musk, OPM, and whoever is pretending to be my boss this week

Subject: RE: What did I do last week?

Hello,

Last week, I accomplished 100% of my required duties, as outlined in my position description.

✅ I supported critical government operations.
✅ I successfully maintained employment, despite this nonsense.
✅ I did not accidentally leak classified information to a billionaire.
✅ I watched in horror as my inbox became a battlefield of conflicting instructions.
✅ I exceeded expectations by not rage-quitting over this email.

Please do not hesitate to reach out if you’d like to waste more taxpayer-funded bandwidth on this charade.

Best,
A Federal Employee Who is Definitely Real and Not a Bot™

So let’s recap:
🎯 This is dumb.
🎯 The government doesn’t know what to do.
🎯 Elon Musk should not be running OPM.
🎯 And the only rational response is to mock this until it disappears.

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.

DEI Under Attack? Kendrick Lamar’s Halftime Show Just Sent a Powerful Response

Kendrick Lamar performs at the Super Bowl XIL Halftime Show in New Orleans, February 9, 2025. He is surrounded by dancers dressed in red, white, and blue.

The National Football League (NFL) Super Bowl halftime show is one of the biggest stages in America. And Kendrick Lamar used it to make damn sure we all got the memo:

We’re still here. We’re not going anywhere. And we will not be silenced.

At a time when Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion is under attack in boardrooms, classrooms, and legislation, Kendrick turned his performance into a statement of resistance—unapologetically centering excellence, activism, and the kind of storytelling that makes certain people very uncomfortable.

And then… there was Samuel L. Jackson as Uncle Sam.

Now, let’s be clear: he didn’t actually curse. But did he need to? The man who practically trademarked the word “motherf—” stood on that stage as the literal face of American power, and you felt the message:

“We see what you’re doing. We’re not going anywhere. And you can’t erase us.”

Speaking of trademarks, Kendrick himself has trademarked his own name with the USPTO, pretty cool!

This wasn’t just a show. It was a masterclass in subversion—and the fact that it happened while the sitting President of the United States was watching? Chef’s kiss.

In a political climate where DEI initiatives are being gutted, this was a defiant cultural moment. Kendrick reminded us that art has always been a tool of protest, and now, he’s carrying that torch, proving that no matter how much pushback DEI faces, the voices demanding justice aren’t leaving the stage.

The Non-Sports Fan’s Survival Guide to Super Bowl LIX (Yes, You Can Fake It)

A photograph of a rugged, slightly worn "Survival Guide" handbook sitting on a living room coffee table cluttered with snacks, a remote control, and a half-empty soda can. The title "Survival Guide" is embossed in bold, comic-style block letters on the cover, with a distressed yet humorous aesthetic. The background features a blurred TV screen showing a football game.

It’s that time again—when nacho consumption soars, brands spend millions to make us cry over a talking golden retriever, and for one night, everyone suddenly becomes an expert on “momentum shifts.”

But what if you, dear reader, couldn’t care less about National Football League (NFL) Super Bowl LIX? What if you'd rather be anywhere else but trapped in a four-hour football marathon?

Good news! My annual guide will help you fake it, escape it, or—dare we say—actually enjoy it (without suddenly developing “strong opinions” about pass interference).

Step 1: Know Just Enough to Survive

The Game: Kansas City Chiefs vs. Philadelphia Eagles. Yes, again. Just say, “This rematch really adds an extra layer of narrative intrigue.” People will nod.

The Halftime Show: Kendrick Lamar featuring SZA. Expect one spectacular performance and at least one person loudly declaring that nothing will ever top Prince in the rain.

The Commercials: The only time people shush each other to watch an ad for Doritos chips. Be on the lookout for confirmed spots from Kawasaki Motors Corp., U.S.A., Starbucks, Best Buy, Dove, GoDaddy, and of course, hims & hers.

Step 2: Your Three Foolproof Phrases

These timeless lines work every single year:

1️⃣ “I just hope it’s a good game.” (Safe, neutral, cannot fail.)
2️⃣ “That’s a bold call. Let’s see if it pays off.” (Say this during any big play, and you’ll sound like an analyst.)
3️⃣ “I’m really just here for the commercials.” (Truth.)

Step 3: Accessibility = Super Bowl MVP

Want to sound insightful and support inclusivity? Drop these into conversation:

“Glad they have ASL interpreters again this year!”

Super Bowl LIX will feature ASL performers for the anthem & halftime show. Shoutout to Matthew Maxey for making the music accessible!

“More events should have live descriptive audio.”

The game has real-time play-by-play for blind & low-vision viewers.

“Can we turn on captions?”

Accessibility helps everyone, especially during loud parties (or when your uncle won’t stop explaining the rules).

Step 4: Your Escape Plan

If the game drags on, try these classic moves:

The Kitchen Gambit: “I’ll check on the snacks.” (Never return.) Anheuser-Busch, Totino's, Häagen-Dazs Shops, Uber, Instacart, PepsiCo, and DoorDash all paid a fortune to influence you. Did it work?

The Bathroom Break of Unusual Length: No one will question 20+ mins of doomscrolling.

The Pet Excuse: “The dog looks anxious. I should sit with them.” (Even if they are sound asleep.)

Final Thoughts: Just Ride It Out

Look, the Super Bowl isn’t just a game—it’s a national event, an excuse for excessive dip consumption, and a night where even the most football-averse people must endure sports commentary.

But with these survival tips, you’ll make it through Super Bowl LIX unscathed.

Now, repeat after me:

“I just hope it’s a good game.”

DEI is Under Attack—But Inclusion Can’t Be Optional

A modern office features an illuminated sign reading "Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion: Strength in Unity" with a colorful gradient background. In the background, a diverse group of employees collaborates around a conference table in a well-lit space with large windows.

Every day, I watch as the policies meant to ensure my dignity, my inclusion, and frankly, my survival, get dismantled. It’s not hypothetical. It’s not a distant issue. It’s personal.

Like many disabled professionals, I see the writing on the wall—diversity, equity, and inclusion are under attack in ways that go beyond policy changes. These aren’t just bureaucratic shifts; they send a chilling message about whose existence is valued and whose is not. And for so many of us, that message is hitting hard.

But here’s what I also know: not everyone is backing down. Not every company, every leader, every organization is willing to let progress be erased. Some including Apple, Microsoft, Delta Air Lines, Johnson & Johnson , and JPMorganChase are doubling down, choosing to be louder, more intentional, more committed to inclusion than ever before. And if you’re one of those people—if you believe that workplaces should be places of opportunity for everyone, not just the most privileged—then now is the time to act.

I’ve spent my career navigating the intersections of disability, policy, and workplace equity. I don’t just speak about inclusion—I live it. And I know firsthand what it takes to create workplaces where disabled professionals don’t just survive but thrive.

If your company, conference, or organization is still committed to real DEI—not just as a buzzword, but as a practice—I want to talk. Hire disabled speakers. Bring in disabled consultants. Invest in perspectives that aren’t just theoretical but lived. Because right now, at a time when so many of us feel like our voices are being pushed aside, inclusion can’t just be a quiet value. It has to be a loud, unwavering action.

Think That 2 A.M. Email Means Workaholism? Think Again

A dimly lit home office at 2AM, illuminated by a glowing computer screen displaying an email inbox with multiple unread messages. Coffee cups, papers, and an open notebook sit on the desk, evoking a sense of late-night work.

With all the uncertainty surrounding the federal workforce, the flood of emails, and my need to shut out the noise, I’ve been reflecting on how my coping skills and work habits often align with neurotypical norms.

The first time a colleague asked why I was working so late, I was caught off guard. It hadn’t occurred to me that a 2 a.m. email might seem unusual. But over time, I’ve realized that for many disabled and neurodivergent professionals, working outside conventional hours isn’t just a preference—it’s a necessity.

I often structure work around chronic pain flare-ups or medical appointments. Others align their schedules with fluctuating energy levels or assistive care needs. And then there are those who thrive when the world is quiet, free from the constant buzz of notifications and interruptions.

Late nights are when I do my best thinking. With an empty inbox and a silent phone, I can focus deeply and be productive. But I also understand that receiving a 2 a.m. email might seem urgent or unsettling to others. That’s why I’ve started adding a simple disclaimer:

“Please note that the timestamp on this email reflects when it was convenient for me to send it. It does not imply an expectation of immediate response. Please prioritize your work-life balance and reply during your regular working hours.”

It’s a small adjustment, but it helps. It reassures colleagues that I don’t expect them to match my schedule. Still, there’s a bigger issue: unconventional work hours are often misunderstood.

Managers might see off-hours emails as a sign of inefficiency. Clients may misinterpret them as urgent. Some assume the sender is overworked or struggling with boundaries.

But here’s the truth: flexibility makes sustainable work possible for many disabled and neurodivergent employees.

People often assume working odd hours signals poor time management or workaholism. The reality? It’s about playing to our strengths. When we work in ways that align with how our minds and bodies function best, productivity increases, stress decreases, and burnout is less likely. The traditional 9-to-5 schedule doesn’t work for everyone—and for many of us, it actively creates barriers instead of fostering success.

So, if someone’s best work happens outside the typical workday, why fight it? Why enforce a rigid system when flexibility leads to better outcomes for everyone?

If you’ve ever wondered why a colleague is sending emails at odd hours, consider that they might not be struggling—they might just be working when they’re at their best. And if you’re someone who thrives on a nontraditional schedule, how have you navigated conversations around it? I’d love to hear your experiences.