How to create accessible spaces | A complete guide to inclusion
Learn what accessibility really means, how to identify your own needs, and how to create spaces that work for everyone, not just those they were originally designed for.
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Learn what accessibility really means, how to identify your own needs, and how to create spaces that work for everyone, not just those they were originally designed for.
Accessibility needs, or support needs, are about making spaces, interactions, and systems usable for as many people as possible. This means recognizing that people interact with the world in different ways and designing for that diversity from the start, rather than as an afterthought.
These needs span multiple dimensions of human experience: physical, digital, social, sensory, and cultural. The goal is ensuring people can participate fully without having to contort themselves to fit systems that weren't designed with them in mind.
People's needs are as diverse as people themselves. Someone might need elevators and ramps, noise control and lighting adjustments, clear instructions and flexible timing, language access and diverse representation, scent-free spaces and executive function support, automatic doors and captioning services. Many people have multiple, intersecting needs that don't fit into traditional categories. At its core, accessibility is about reducing barriers before people have to ask for their needs to be met.
Neurodivergent people, including those with ADHD, Autism, dyslexia, trauma responses, anxiety, depression, OCD, and other neurological differences, often need support that isn't immediately visible or intuitive to others. What feels "normal" or "functional" to one person might be exhausting, triggering, or overwhelming to another. Rather than creating separate categories, neurodivergent accessibility needs often overlap and intersect. Here are some common examples of what support might look like:
Environmental needs might include noise-canceling headphones, quiet spaces, or the freedom to verbally stim. Some people need soft, natural lighting instead of harsh fluorescents, while others require predictable lighting that doesn't change suddenly. Movement needs could mean standing desks, fidget tools, the ability to leave and re-enter spaces, or having multiple seating options available.
Communication support often involves offering both written and verbal options, since many neurodivergent people process information differently. This includes using clear, direct language while avoiding implied meanings or unspoken expectations. Trauma-informed communication might mean avoiding sudden topic changes or providing content warnings. Many people benefit from processing time: pauses in conversation, written follow-ups, or advance notice of what will be discussed.
Structure and routine can look like flexible schedules that accommodate varying energy levels, asynchronous work options, or deadline extensions. Some people thrive with detailed task breakdowns and clear priorities, while others need open-ended flexibility. Body doubling (working alongside someone for accountability and focus) helps many neurodivergent people, as does having backup plans when routines change unexpectedly.
Emotional and sensory regulation might involve scent-free spaces, access to comfort items, or the ability to take breaks without explanation. For people with trauma histories, this could include avoiding sudden loud noises, having clear exit routes, or knowing who will be present in advance.
The key is recognizing that these needs aren't accommodations but design features that help everyone participate more fully.
If you're unsure what your accessibility needs are, start by paying attention to patterns over time. Accessibility needs often show up as things that drain you, create frustration, or make certain tasks harder than they need to be.
Once you start seeing patterns, frame them as support needs rather than personal failures. Society often teaches us to see our differences as deficits, but these are actually valuable insights about how you function best. Instead of saying "I'm bad at remembering things," you might say "I need written reminders." Instead of "I can't handle loud spaces," try "I need quiet or noise-canceling options to focus." It's normal to have been taught that these needs are weaknesses or something to overcome. But recognizing your needs isn't giving up or being difficult, it's understanding how you work best.
Advocating for yourself can feel challenging, especially if you're used to pushing through discomfort to fit in. But stating your needs clearly helps create a more accessible world for everyone.
Try direct, solution-focused language:
I do this by adding my access needs to my email signature. This way, people I collaborate with know upfront how to create a working relationship that supports both of us.
Some other examples of email signatures are:
Keep it friendly and straightforward:
Accessibility should never be an afterthought or last-minute add-on. It should be built into how we collaborate, meet, and engage from the start. Instead of putting the burden on people to advocate for themselves repeatedly, proactively ask about accessibility and support needs at the beginning of any interaction.
If you're hesitant about asking, think about how seen and valued you would feel if someone took the time to ask what would help you do your best work or feel most comfortable.
Rather than making someone spell out their needs from scratch, try offering choices upfront:
The key is integrating these questions naturally so accessibility becomes a normal part of creating inclusive spaces together, not an inconvenience to work around.
Accessibility isn't just a responsibility for disabled and neurodivergent people, it's something we all benefit from. Small shifts in how we interact can create meaningful change:
When accessibility becomes woven into everyday interactions, it stops being an afterthought and starts being the norm. We need flexibility, options, and thoughtful design that lets more people fully participate, rather than one-size-fits-all solutions. By making small, conscious changes, we create a world that doesn't just accommodate but genuinely supports all kinds of brains and bodies.
Learn what accessibility really means, how to identify your own needs, and how to create spaces that work for everyone, not just those they were originally designed for.
Accessibility needs, or support needs, are about making spaces, interactions, and systems usable for as many people as possible. This means recognizing that people interact with the world in different ways and designing for that diversity from the start, rather than as an afterthought.
These needs span multiple dimensions of human experience: physical, digital, social, sensory, and cultural. The goal is ensuring people can participate fully without having to contort themselves to fit systems that weren't designed with them in mind.
People's needs are as diverse as people themselves. Someone might need elevators and ramps, noise control and lighting adjustments, clear instructions and flexible timing, language access and diverse representation, scent-free spaces and executive function support, automatic doors and captioning services. Many people have multiple, intersecting needs that don't fit into traditional categories. At its core, accessibility is about reducing barriers before people have to ask for their needs to be met.
Neurodivergent people, including those with ADHD, Autism, dyslexia, trauma responses, anxiety, depression, OCD, and other neurological differences, often need support that isn't immediately visible or intuitive to others. What feels "normal" or "functional" to one person might be exhausting, triggering, or overwhelming to another. Rather than creating separate categories, neurodivergent accessibility needs often overlap and intersect. Here are some common examples of what support might look like:
Environmental needs might include noise-canceling headphones, quiet spaces, or the freedom to verbally stim. Some people need soft, natural lighting instead of harsh fluorescents, while others require predictable lighting that doesn't change suddenly. Movement needs could mean standing desks, fidget tools, the ability to leave and re-enter spaces, or having multiple seating options available.
Communication support often involves offering both written and verbal options, since many neurodivergent people process information differently. This includes using clear, direct language while avoiding implied meanings or unspoken expectations. Trauma-informed communication might mean avoiding sudden topic changes or providing content warnings. Many people benefit from processing time: pauses in conversation, written follow-ups, or advance notice of what will be discussed.
Structure and routine can look like flexible schedules that accommodate varying energy levels, asynchronous work options, or deadline extensions. Some people thrive with detailed task breakdowns and clear priorities, while others need open-ended flexibility. Body doubling (working alongside someone for accountability and focus) helps many neurodivergent people, as does having backup plans when routines change unexpectedly.
Emotional and sensory regulation might involve scent-free spaces, access to comfort items, or the ability to take breaks without explanation. For people with trauma histories, this could include avoiding sudden loud noises, having clear exit routes, or knowing who will be present in advance.
The key is recognizing that these needs aren't accommodations but design features that help everyone participate more fully.
If you're unsure what your accessibility needs are, start by paying attention to patterns over time. Accessibility needs often show up as things that drain you, create frustration, or make certain tasks harder than they need to be.
Once you start seeing patterns, frame them as support needs rather than personal failures. Society often teaches us to see our differences as deficits, but these are actually valuable insights about how you function best. Instead of saying "I'm bad at remembering things," you might say "I need written reminders." Instead of "I can't handle loud spaces," try "I need quiet or noise-canceling options to focus." It's normal to have been taught that these needs are weaknesses or something to overcome. But recognizing your needs isn't giving up or being difficult, it's understanding how you work best.
Advocating for yourself can feel challenging, especially if you're used to pushing through discomfort to fit in. But stating your needs clearly helps create a more accessible world for everyone.
Try direct, solution-focused language:
I do this by adding my access needs to my email signature. This way, people I collaborate with know upfront how to create a working relationship that supports both of us.
Some other examples of email signatures are:
Keep it friendly and straightforward:
Accessibility should never be an afterthought or last-minute add-on. It should be built into how we collaborate, meet, and engage from the start. Instead of putting the burden on people to advocate for themselves repeatedly, proactively ask about accessibility and support needs at the beginning of any interaction.
If you're hesitant about asking, think about how seen and valued you would feel if someone took the time to ask what would help you do your best work or feel most comfortable.
Rather than making someone spell out their needs from scratch, try offering choices upfront:
The key is integrating these questions naturally so accessibility becomes a normal part of creating inclusive spaces together, not an inconvenience to work around.
Accessibility isn't just a responsibility for disabled and neurodivergent people, it's something we all benefit from. Small shifts in how we interact can create meaningful change:
When accessibility becomes woven into everyday interactions, it stops being an afterthought and starts being the norm. We need flexibility, options, and thoughtful design that lets more people fully participate, rather than one-size-fits-all solutions. By making small, conscious changes, we create a world that doesn't just accommodate but genuinely supports all kinds of brains and bodies.
Learn what accessibility really means, how to identify your own needs, and how to create spaces that work for everyone, not just those they were originally designed for.
Accessibility needs, or support needs, are about making spaces, interactions, and systems usable for as many people as possible. This means recognizing that people interact with the world in different ways and designing for that diversity from the start, rather than as an afterthought.
These needs span multiple dimensions of human experience: physical, digital, social, sensory, and cultural. The goal is ensuring people can participate fully without having to contort themselves to fit systems that weren't designed with them in mind.
People's needs are as diverse as people themselves. Someone might need elevators and ramps, noise control and lighting adjustments, clear instructions and flexible timing, language access and diverse representation, scent-free spaces and executive function support, automatic doors and captioning services. Many people have multiple, intersecting needs that don't fit into traditional categories. At its core, accessibility is about reducing barriers before people have to ask for their needs to be met.
Neurodivergent people, including those with ADHD, Autism, dyslexia, trauma responses, anxiety, depression, OCD, and other neurological differences, often need support that isn't immediately visible or intuitive to others. What feels "normal" or "functional" to one person might be exhausting, triggering, or overwhelming to another. Rather than creating separate categories, neurodivergent accessibility needs often overlap and intersect. Here are some common examples of what support might look like:
Environmental needs might include noise-canceling headphones, quiet spaces, or the freedom to verbally stim. Some people need soft, natural lighting instead of harsh fluorescents, while others require predictable lighting that doesn't change suddenly. Movement needs could mean standing desks, fidget tools, the ability to leave and re-enter spaces, or having multiple seating options available.
Communication support often involves offering both written and verbal options, since many neurodivergent people process information differently. This includes using clear, direct language while avoiding implied meanings or unspoken expectations. Trauma-informed communication might mean avoiding sudden topic changes or providing content warnings. Many people benefit from processing time: pauses in conversation, written follow-ups, or advance notice of what will be discussed.
Structure and routine can look like flexible schedules that accommodate varying energy levels, asynchronous work options, or deadline extensions. Some people thrive with detailed task breakdowns and clear priorities, while others need open-ended flexibility. Body doubling (working alongside someone for accountability and focus) helps many neurodivergent people, as does having backup plans when routines change unexpectedly.
Emotional and sensory regulation might involve scent-free spaces, access to comfort items, or the ability to take breaks without explanation. For people with trauma histories, this could include avoiding sudden loud noises, having clear exit routes, or knowing who will be present in advance.
The key is recognizing that these needs aren't accommodations but design features that help everyone participate more fully.
If you're unsure what your accessibility needs are, start by paying attention to patterns over time. Accessibility needs often show up as things that drain you, create frustration, or make certain tasks harder than they need to be.
Once you start seeing patterns, frame them as support needs rather than personal failures. Society often teaches us to see our differences as deficits, but these are actually valuable insights about how you function best. Instead of saying "I'm bad at remembering things," you might say "I need written reminders." Instead of "I can't handle loud spaces," try "I need quiet or noise-canceling options to focus." It's normal to have been taught that these needs are weaknesses or something to overcome. But recognizing your needs isn't giving up or being difficult, it's understanding how you work best.
Advocating for yourself can feel challenging, especially if you're used to pushing through discomfort to fit in. But stating your needs clearly helps create a more accessible world for everyone.
Try direct, solution-focused language:
I do this by adding my access needs to my email signature. This way, people I collaborate with know upfront how to create a working relationship that supports both of us.
Some other examples of email signatures are:
Keep it friendly and straightforward:
Accessibility should never be an afterthought or last-minute add-on. It should be built into how we collaborate, meet, and engage from the start. Instead of putting the burden on people to advocate for themselves repeatedly, proactively ask about accessibility and support needs at the beginning of any interaction.
If you're hesitant about asking, think about how seen and valued you would feel if someone took the time to ask what would help you do your best work or feel most comfortable.
Rather than making someone spell out their needs from scratch, try offering choices upfront:
The key is integrating these questions naturally so accessibility becomes a normal part of creating inclusive spaces together, not an inconvenience to work around.
Accessibility isn't just a responsibility for disabled and neurodivergent people, it's something we all benefit from. Small shifts in how we interact can create meaningful change:
When accessibility becomes woven into everyday interactions, it stops being an afterthought and starts being the norm. We need flexibility, options, and thoughtful design that lets more people fully participate, rather than one-size-fits-all solutions. By making small, conscious changes, we create a world that doesn't just accommodate but genuinely supports all kinds of brains and bodies.
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