Unit 2: Inclusive Practices – Blog Post 1: Disability

The most inclusive educational spaces I have experienced were not necessarily the spaces with the most resources or the clearest structures, but the spaces where complexity and difference were anticipated rather than treated as exceptions. These were spaces where silence was not mistaken for disengagement and participation was not dependent on confidence, speed or one particular way of communicating. There was an understanding that learning does not move in a singular direction or rhythm. This is the kind of learning environment I continue to aspire to create within my own teaching practice.

My own experience of an inclusive MA, coupled with the dialogue and learning from the first workshop of this unit, has encouraged me to reconsider how inclusive practice within art and design education can move beyond accommodating difference and begin designing for multiplicity from the outset.

The Social Model of Disability offers an important framework for thinking through this shift. Developed by disabled activists in response to dominant medical models, it argues that people are disabled not by their impairments, but by environmental, procedural and attitudinal barriers (Oliver, 2004; UPIAS, 1976). This moves the conversation away from “fixing” the individual and instead asks us to examine the conditions that produce exclusion. In art and design education, these barriers can often appear subtle and deeply normalised: expectations around verbal presentations, confidence, English language proficiency, productivity, rigid assessment formats and narrow ideas of professionalism.

Kimberlé Crenshaw’s (1990) concept of intersectionality further complicates this conversation by reminding us that disability is never experienced in isolation. A student’s experience of learning is also shaped by race, gender, class, language, culture, caring responsibilities and previous educational experiences. These intersecting identities influence not only access to education, but also a student’s sense of belonging and legitimacy within institutional spaces.

This resonated deeply with me throughout the workshop. As a mixed-heritage British-Jamaican woman who grew up with a mother living with ME and a brother with ADHD, I have become increasingly aware that people move through educational spaces carrying very different relationships to learning, embodiment, communication and support. These experiences have shaped how I think about care and participation, while also reminding me that I cannot assume what support a student may need, or whether they feel able to disclose it.

One of the most valuable ideas I took away from the workshop was the importance of focusing on barriers rather than diagnoses. The questions we explored–What has helped in the past? What isn’t working here? How can we make this work together?–feel significant because they shift the conversation away from deficit and towards collaboration. They also acknowledge that some students may still be discovering their own access needs, may not identify as disabled, or may not feel comfortable declaring this within institutional settings.

Interestingly, only 3% of the current MA Design for Social Innovation and Sustainable Futures cohort have declared a disability through institutional processes (UAL, 2025). Given our discussions around invisible disability, disclosure and stigma, I read this statistic less as a reflection of disability within the cohort and more as a reminder of the limitations of institutional data in capturing students’ lived experiences. It reinforces the importance of creating learning environments that anticipate a diversity of needs, rather than relying solely on formal disclosure to determine where support may be required.

Within my own teaching practice on MA Design for Social Innovation and Sustainable Futures, I have found myself making small adjustments that reflect this way of thinking. I combine spoken, written and visual forms of communication during workshops and tutorials, and I provide follow-up notes afterwards, recognising that listening, processing and note-taking simultaneously can create barriers for many students. When introducing somatic or embodied activities, I try to build in moments of choice so students can decide how they wish to participate according to their own needs and comfort levels.

These reflections have also encouraged me to think differently about Universal Design for Learning (CAST, 2024). Rather than viewing accessibility as something added once barriers become visible, I am beginning to see it as an approach to designing learning experiences that anticipate difference from the outset. This extends beyond teaching methods and into the spaces we teach within. The classrooms I currently use, with fixed furniture and front-facing layouts, quietly communicate assumptions about how learning should happen. They leave limited room for movement, collaborative making or different ways of inhabiting the space.

Alongside this, I have been thinking more deeply about the possibilities and tensions of integrating somatic and embodied practices into learning environments. I am interested in how embodied learning can create space for different forms of knowledge production beyond purely intellectual or outcome-driven approaches. For me, embodiment offers a way of exploring consent, relationality, power dynamics and decolonial ways of knowing through lived experience rather than discussion alone. At the same time, I am conscious that these approaches may also create barriers for some students, including those living with physical disabilities, chronic illness, trauma, or cultural discomfort around vulnerability and bodily expression. Rather than assuming these practices are inherently inclusive, I think they require the same ongoing critical reflection as any other pedagogical approach.

This leaves me asking: who is considered welcome within educational spaces, and whose ways of learning are being centred?

I am understanding more and more that inclusive practice is less about achieving a perfect or universal model of accessibility and more about remaining attentive to the assumptions that shape our pedagogies, institutions and relationships with one another. Moving forward, I want to continue designing learning environments that anticipate difference through spatial design, multiple modes of participation, collaborative dialogue and opportunities for students to exercise greater agency in how they engage, contribute and learn. Increasingly, I see inclusive practice as an ongoing commitment to designing with complexity, curiosity and care, recognising that no single approach will work for everyone, but every learning environment can become more responsive.

References

CAST (2024) Universal Design for Learning Guidelines version 3.0. Available at: https://udlguidelines.cast.org/ (Accessed: 15 July 2026).

Crenshaw, K. (1990) ‘Mapping the Margins: Intersectionality, Identity Politics, and Violence against Women of Color’, Stanford Law Review, 43(6), pp. 1241–1299.

Jain, S. (2022) ‘Why crip assessment? Critical disability studies theories to advance assessment for inclusion’, International Journal of Inclusive Education, 26(1), pp. 29–44.

Oliver, M. (2004) ‘The social model in action: if I had a hammer’, in Barnes, C. and Mercer, G. (eds.) Implementing the Social Model of Disability: Theory and Research. Leeds: Disability Press, pp. 18–31.

Union of the Physically Impaired Against Segregation (UPIAS) (1976) Fundamental Principles of Disability. Available at: https://disability-studies.leeds.ac.uk/wp-content/uploads/sites/40/library/UPIAS-fundamental-principles.pdf (Accessed: 15 July 2026).

University of the Arts London (2025) Student Profiles – Summary Grids: MA Design for Social Innovation and Sustainable Futures, 2025/26. Internal student profile dashboard. Accessed: 10 July 2026