access

Advocacy Burnout: The Untold Story of Disability Activists

A black candle with a wild flame burns surrounded by smoke and a dark desolate background.

As we near the end of Disability Pride Month, I find myself reflecting on the journey we've embarked on together. Nearly every day, I've shared stories, raised awareness, and spotlighted the diverse aspects of disability life. The response has been overwhelming, and I'm deeply grateful for each one of you who has engaged with my posts, learned something new, or found solace in shared experiences.

But today, I want to shed light on a seldom-discussed aspect of disability advocacy: the exhaustion. The reality is, advocacy doesn't pause when the calendar flips or the spotlight dims. We advocate every day, not because we crave attention or conflict, but because we must. We strive to live in a world where our advocacy is no longer necessary, where disability discourse is so normalized that it doesn't require amplification.

There are days when the weight of this work feels unbearable. Days when I wish I could "just live my life," as some well-meaning yet misguided individuals have suggested. But here's the thing: I advocate so that I can do exactly that. So that we all can.

We yearn for a future where months like Disability Pride or National Disability Employment Awareness Month are no longer needed because people with disabilities are treated as equals. We yearn for a future where we don't have to justify our existence or fight for our rights. We yearn for a future where we can just live our lives.

Today, I'm not spotlighting a specific issue or cause. Instead, I'm offering a behind-the-scenes look at the toll advocacy takes. It's rewarding, yes, but it's also physically, mentally, and emotionally draining. And I promise you, your disabled friends are feeling it too.

We can't wait for the day when our advocacy puts itself out of business, as my entrepreneurial father Craig Honick once said. But until then, we need you. We need our allies to step up, to share the load, to amplify our voices. We are tired, but we are not defeated. And with your help, we can build a world where disability advocacy is a chapter in history books, not a daily fight.

Thank you for being part of this journey. Let's keep the conversation going, not just this month, but every day.

How The Twitter Layoffs Affect The Disability Community

The Twitter Logo with the quote “Twitter can not become the de facto Town Square Musk envisions at the expense of the accessibility that once made it great.” Attributed to Ryan Honick

The Twitter Logo with the quote “Twitter can not become the de facto Town Square Musk envisions at the expense of the accessibility that once made it great.” Attributed to Ryan Honick

If users want to emphasize how important the continued prioritization of accessibility actually is, we need to lean into one of the best parts about Twitter: how easy it makes it to amplify a cause.
-Alexa Heinrich, Adweek

For many disabled activists, Twitter has long been a place to connect, amplify, and create change. I owe much to a platform that allowed all of that to happen. Conversations with one-time virtual strangers turned into lifelong friends and allies, virtually and otherwise. The platform was never perfect, and detractors abound, but advocacy always faces pushback. Still, Twitter served as an important space where many found community and support as well as a direct line to key influencers; from journalists and brands to celebrities. Twitter was the first social network where it seemed accessibility was its foundation—in more ways than one.

Prior to layoffs, The Accessibility Experience Team was working on myriad projects focused on improving the user experience. For folks with visual disabilities, the team revamped its icons and automated reminders for the use of alt-text. The deaf community saw improvements with captions, and for those with sensory sensitivities Twitter updated its app sounds.

Unfortunately, all of that progress is poised to stop as Musk looks for ways to improve profitability following a number of high-profile advertisers rethinking their relationship with the platform. Companies including General Mills, Oreo company maker Mondelēz International and Pfizer Inc., have temporarily paused their Twitter advertising, according to The Wall Street Journal.

That pressure, coming from groups like Color Of Change, Free Press, the Anti-Defamation League, and GLAAD is the result of Musk haphazardly cutting teams dedicated to diversity, equity, inclusion, and access.

“We are witnessing the real-time destruction of one of the world’s most powerful communications systems,” Nicole Gill director of Accountable Tech told MarketWatch.

Sandra Sucher, a professor of management at Harvard University, told The New York Times Twitter’s cuts were among the most poorly handled that she had seen.

Speaking at an investment conference in New York Friday, Musk said: “Our goal is with Twitter, how do we get 80% of the public to join a digital town square and voice their opinion and exchange ideas and once in a while change their mind?”

With his latest actions, Musk is deliberately leaving out the 20% of the population with disabilities, setting Twitter up to become yet another inaccessible space where disabled people find ourselves unwelcome. Twitter can not become the de facto Town Square Musk envisions at the expense of the accessibility that once made it great.