When the barrier becomes bigger than the disability

Kopele Tepa
Founder, Bumblebee Society, Kohima

Having worked in inclusive education, as a special educator for over a decade, I have often found myself thinking about what it really takes to create an inclusive society. We speak about creating spaces where people of different abilities can learn, work, participate and simply coexist with dignity, respect and acceptance. But the longer I work in this space, the more I find myself asking: Where does inclusion actually begin? Perhaps it begins much earlier than school.

We often think of disability as the limitation. Yet, very often, it is the environment around a person, the inaccessible road, the staircase, the bus they cannot enter, the building they cannot navigate, the absence of information or an appropriate accommodation, that turns an impairment into exclusion. In other words, sometimes the barrier we create becomes bigger than the disability itself.

This is particularly worth thinking about in Nagaland. Our terrain is predominantly hilly, and steep roads, steps and uneven pathways are part of everyday life. But what is an ordinary feature of our landscape can become a significant barrier for someone using a wheelchair, someone with limited mobility, an older person, or even a parent carrying a child. Then there is transportation. Can a person with a disability independently use public transport to get to a hospital, school, work, or simply meet a friend? For many, the answer remains no. And beyond transport are our buildings, footpaths, public toilets, community spaces and recreational areas. Are these being designed with the understanding that people move, see, hear and communicate differently? These may sound like small questions, but together they determine whether someone can participate in everyday life.

We are making important progress in talking about rights, policies and inclusion. But while we work towards these larger goals, perhaps we also need to pause and look at the basics. Inclusion cannot only be something we add later, once a building is complete, or a road is constructed or a service is already running. It needs to be considered from the beginning. A road. A bus. A school entrance. A public toilet. A footpath. A playground. A government office. These are not separate disability issues. They are part of how we design a community.

Sometimes, accessibility is also misunderstood as special treatment. Why is a ramp considered a special facility? Why is an accessible toilet a special provision? Why should accessible transport be viewed as something only for persons with disabilities? Think about a bowl of ramen. Providing a fork and a spoon does not change the taste of the ramen. It does not make the meal better for one person than another. It simply allows someone to enjoy the same meal in a way that works for them. Accessibility is much the same. A ramp does not take away the stairs. A handrail does not prevent anyone else from using a staircase. An accessible toilet does not make the existing toilet less useful. Accommodation does not create an advantage. It removes a barrier. And many of these adjustments benefit far more people than we initially imagine, older persons, people recovering from injuries, pregnant women, parents with young children and anyone who may temporarily or permanently experience reduced mobility.

Education, of course, remains important. Every child should have the opportunity to learn and participate. But even here, perhaps we need to think beyond simply placing a child in a classroom. For some children, academic education may be the right pathway. For others, vocational education, functional learning, life skills or supported employment may provide a more meaningful route to independence. The goal should not be to make every child fit into exactly the same pathway. The goal should be to ensure that every child has a pathway. And that pathway can only work when the larger environment allows them to participate.

For too long, much of the responsibility for promoting inclusion has rested with a small number of organisations, special schools and families. Their work is essential, but they cannot carry the responsibility alone. A teacher can create an inclusive classroom. A special educator can provide support. A parent can advocate tirelessly for their child. An organisation can raise awareness. But none of them can independently redesign our transport system, our roads, our public buildings or our towns. That requires us to think about inclusion as a community and development issue, not simply a disability issue.

Perhaps the question is therefore not only, “How do we make our schools inclusive?” Perhaps we should also ask: Can people with disabilities move through our towns independently? Can they access healthcare? Can they travel to work or education? Can they use public spaces? Can they participate in community life without constantly needing someone to make an exception for them? These are not unreasonable demands. They are questions about whether we have designed our communities with everyone in mind.

I do not believe the answer is to wait for one institution, one department or one organisation to solve everything. We need policy. We need institutions. We need specialised services. We need advocacy.

But we also need to start much closer to the ground. The next time we build a public space, can we ask whether someone using a wheelchair can enter it? The next time we plan a road, can we think about the person who walks with difficulty? The next time we procure public transport, can accessibility be part of the requirement rather than an afterthought? These may not sound revolutionary.

But perhaps that is exactly the point. Inclusion does not always require a grand gesture. Sometimes it requires us to notice the barrier that has been sitting in front of us all along and decide that it does not need to be there.

If we truly want an inclusive society, inclusion cannot be something we add later. It has to be part of the design from the very beginning. Because disability may be part of a person’s life, but the barriers around them are something society can choose to remove.