Carly Findlay's Blog, page 31

My speech on choice and control in education and employment for Community Transition Support

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CTS staff and Shanti Wong with Carly Findlay. Image: five people standing in front of banners. They’re smiling.

 

I was the keynote speaker at the Community Transition Support (CTS) forum on Tuesday 8 May. I spoke to a group of people working in the specialist education system – teachers, council workers and disability support workers. Community Transition Support aims to ensure that young disabled people receive adequate accessible information about education and employment opportunities so they can fully participate in the community. The audience was so receptive. And i was impressed by the outcomes of using the CTS resources – so many young disabled people preparing for mainstream work.

A big thanks to Taylah and Meri from CTS who were so great to work with when preparing this speech and no the day, and to Catia Malaquias who guided me to some great materials she created. 

I asked how many in the room identify as being disabled. No one put their hand up. The response to my question shocked us all. We must ensure that disabled people are trained as educators – to influence education policy and delivery, and so young disabled people can see themselves in their teachers. 

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Image Carly Findlay giving a speech. A woman standing side on, holding a microphone and speaking. She’s got a red face and short curly dark hair. She’s wearing a sea green top. Behind and next to her are banners with CTS logo and info on it.

 

I pay my respects to the people of the Kulin Nation, and recognise Aboriginal Elders past, present and future. I also acknowledge the disability activists who have and are still paving the way for equity today. Thank you to Community Transition Support for having m speak today, and to all of you for attending – the CTS initiatives are so promising, and I take heart that you’re committed to improving the lives and career paths of young disabled people.

I’m a writer speaker appearance activist, trainer and occasional model. You may have seen me on The Project or You Can’t Ask That, heard me on ABC Radio, or read my writing in the news. I also have a part time day job as Access and inclusion coordinator at Melbourne Fringe – a job that was advertised for a disabled or Deaf person. And I’m writing a memoir – Say Hello – which will be out early next year.

Firstly I identify as a proud disabled woman. I see disability as part of my identity just as my race, gender, sexuality, lack of religion and love for cheese and fashion. I can’t change it, and nor should I need to.

I believe disability creates a community and culture among those of us who are disabled, and disability contributes to society’s culture, too. I am absolutely ok with saying the words disability and disabled – they’re nothing to be ashamed about, they’re not slurs. #SayTheWord

I also believe in the social model of disability – it’s recognised by the United Nations, is human rights based, and focuses on environmental and attitudinal barriers as being disabling, rather than seeing a disabled person’s body as a deficit.

From People with Disability Australia:

“The social model sees ‘disability’ is the result of the interaction between people living with impairments and an environment filled with physical, attitudinal, communication and social barriers. It therefore carries the implication that the physical, attitudinal, communication and social environment must change to enable people living with impairments to participate in society on an equal basis with others.

The social model of disability is now the internationally recognised way to view and address ‘disability’. The United Nations Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities (CRPD) marks the official paradigm shift in attitudes towards people with disability and approaches to disability concerns.

People with disability are not “objects” of charity, medical treatment and social protection but “subjects” with rights, capable of claiming those rights, able to make decisions for their own lives based on their free and informed consent and be active members of society.”

Community Transition Support has asked me to talk about my time at school and in employment. I absolutely recognise my privilege – I am a middle class woman in a relationship. My education is at post graduate level, and employment status has been mainstream, consistent and above the minimum wage since I was 17. I acknowledge that so many disabled people haven’t had the same opportunities as I have. Some people with ichthyosis, – the skin condition I have – have been put in special schools, and haven’t had access to same education as me. They are a generation before me. This has stifled employment opportunities, and created a cycle of poverty and depression.

I went to a mainstream public primary and high school. Back then I didn’t identify with having a disability, because I thought disability looked a certain way, and that it would be negative to label myself as disabled. There was only one other disabled student that I knew of in my primary school, and they were very different to me.

Of course I had my skin condition since birth and for life. It was severe, and limited some of the things I could do. But because I didn’t know anyone like me, and was encouraged to just get on with it, I didn’t get the help I needed. Kids were often awful – exclusionary and bullying, and there was very little reasonable adjustment from teachers.

What would have been great was tailored assistance – like being to work in the library when I couldn’t do sport, rather than sitting outside in the often 30 degree dry country heat and among the flies. I had a passion for reading and writing, and time in the library would have helped me thrive, rather than being miserable outside, watching others do sport. What would have been great is not being seen like a burden, and the barriers removed. What would have been great is diversity and inclusion being as big a part of the school curriculum as maths. English and sport was.

Similarly, a couple of years into a government workplace, where I worked for 15 years, I encountered the guilt that came with attending regular long hospital appointments and unepxrcted inpatient stays. Colleagues thought I was making their lives difficult by being in hospital attached to an IV drip and bandaged like a mummy. When I asked to go part tiome in 2005, I was denied, unless I had a baby – this option wasn’t then a part of the Fair Work Act when I asked. I only just found out about this option this year – as I got a Fair Work Statement on commencement of in part time work. Getting through an eight hour work day when my skin is throbbing, not to mention the possibility of encountering discrimination on my way to work, can be hard at times.

These attitudinal and physical barriers are more disabling than my skin condition – because they created a cycle of stress. I got sicker and sicker. And I had to advocate for my needs. Which meant, I had to recognise I am disabled, and that disability wasn’t a bad thing.

I came to identify as being disabled when I met others with chronic illnesses and disability. We had different impairments but the barriers we faced were very similar.

In my final year of high school, I was encouraged to apply for a casual job. My parents wanted me to work when I finished year 12, but I got a job at Kmart in the middle of the year. I wish I had have started at 14 years and 9 months. This was a different environment to school – no bullies and entirely confidence building. I worked at Kmart for almost four years, from eight to 20 hours a week.

I had a small wage that afforded me a social life while I was at university. There I learnt how to work in customer service and the responsibility of money handling, but more so, I learnt how to politely and professionally deal with curious and rude customers who asked about my skin.

A customer once called me a lobster, and I was unsure how to deal with that. With the help of management, I worked out strategies in how to respond – I could either continue to serve these type of customers or pass them on to a colleague. Most importantly I made a bounty of friends who I’m still friends with.

The man who hired and managed me at Kmart almost 20 years ago died last week. In my sadness, I reflected on how he changed my life. I wasn’t locked away working out of customers’ sight (like some expected me to). I was visible, representing Ichthyosis in a very public job, even when I didn’t realise it. I was paid award wage which gave me freedom and control. And I was truly included in mainstream employment which led to full time work. I regret not telling him this when he was alive. It was more than just a casual job on my days off uni. Thanks Andrew.

My parents were adamant that I went to university and got a full time job afterward. I did a bachelor of ecommerce, which I wasn’t very good at, and a Master of Communication which I adored but took years to complete because I juggled a full time job and my health. It was with the assistance of the Disability Liaison Unit at university that I could complete my Masters without worry – they understood my health demands.

My time in mainstream education ensured I had an opportunity in mainstream employment. It allowed me to choose a path for university and then to enter work.

It hasn’t been easy, and I haven’t always been optimistic. I’ve also encountered discrimination when applying for jobs and within the workplace. I’ve experienced bullying. There has been such low expectations of me. There have been many jobs that I’ve gone for because I met the selection criteria, only to be rejected after they’ve met me. Of course their biases were never overt, but I’ve become all too familiar with the rejection and silent discrimination. I’ve found my feet now and doing work for myself as well as an organisation that I really enjoy. While I’ve been able to speak up about discrimination and bullying when I’ve felt courageous enough – but not always listened to, I worry for the disabled people who cannot – and who aren’t listened to.

But while I have been relatively lucky to get and stay in work, young disabled people are not afforded this opportunity. Segregation and a lack of information about education means disabled Australians don’t complete their studies. And this has greater consequences.

Some stats:

36% of people with a disability aged 18-64yrs, have completed Year 12, compared with 60% of those without a disability – ABS 2011
25% of people with a profound or severe disability aged 15 – 64 have completed Year 12 [6] – Price Waterhouse Coopers
A lack of employment leads to decreased economic and social participation in the community. It leads to disabled people living in poverty. Did you know that 45 per cent of disabled Australians live on or below the powerful line? – Price Waterhouse Coopers

(source)

In 2015, the ABS reported 53.4% of people with a disability aged 15-64 years participate in the workforce, compared with 83.2% of people without a disability.

(Source)

And Disabled People’s Org Australia reports:

“90% of women with intellectual disability have been sexually assaulted in their lives, and 60% before the age of 18;

“children with disability are three times more likely to experience abuse than other children

In many cases, people with disability experience violence in places where they are meant to be receiving support”

With better access to education and employment, I believe these statistics can be improved. But we must raise the expectations society has of disabled people – and I think that starts with language. I mentioned before that I call myself disabled, and am not afraid to say the word disability. But so many are, and in the school system, the term disability is softened to make disability and segregation of disabled students more palatable. Special needs is often used, but what’s so special about that?

Catia Malaquias, Mum to nine year old Julius who has Down Syndrome, and founder of

Starting with Julius – a project committed to improving the representation and inclusion of disabled people in media and advertising, wrote:

“A child with “special needs” catches the “special bus” to receive “special assistance” in a “special school” from “special education teachers” to prepare them for a “special” future living in a “special home” and working in a “special workshop”.

Does that sound “special” to you?

“In the minds of many in our society a “special needs” label is effectively a one-way ticket to a separate, segregated, low-trajectory pathway through life.”

Inclusive education is a human right. Article 24 of the UN Convention on the rights of persons with disabilities states:

“Persons with disabilities can access an inclusive, quality and free primary education and secondary education on an equal basis with others in the communities in which they live.”

Catia Malqiuas is also the founder of All Means All – the Australian Alliance for Inclusive Education also compiled some research about the impacts of segregated vs inclusive education, which can be found on the All Means All website.

Catia summarised the 2017 Alana Report on inclusive education run by Harvard University.

Catia writes:

“The Report recognises that the growth in inclusive educational practices stems from increased recognition that students with disabilities thrive when they are, to the greatest extent possible, provided with the same educational and social opportunities as non-disabled students.”

“Furthermore, the research shows “The benefits of inclusion for students with disabilities extend beyond academic results to social connection benefits, increased post-secondary education placement and improved employment and independence outcomes.”

I want to touch on Australian Disability Enterprises – known as sheltered workshops – for a minute. Just as people are getting really savvy about the working conditions of where their clothes are made – people need to be mindful of disabled people who are not paid enough here in the developed world.

There’s so much discussion about overseas workers being exploited – but what about disabled workers here in Australia? They are stuck in a cycle of segregation, low pay and menial, often degrading work.

Australian Disability Enterprises employ intellectually disabled people – some may argue this allows social interaction and a sense of independence. But many in these disability employment enterprises are paid around $2.80 an hour to do menial work that most non disabled people would balk at doing. From packaging the headphones that you receive on the plane, to making recyclable bags, to the horror of picking worms from pig poo for fishing bait  – all for far less than the legal minimum wage. And so often these organisations are celebrated for giving disabled people an opportunity, but really, it’s segregation. And I’m sure the non disabled workers and bosses are getting a decent wage. Inclusive and meaningful work for minimum wages is what’s needed.

CTS asked me what I’d like to see in an ideal world.

I want to see inclusive education for all disabled children and young people. I want to see better resourced schools, and non disabled students to participate with disabled students.
I want accessible and inclusive sex education – that covers safety consent and pleasurable relationships – be taught to all disabled young people.
I want young disabled people to be told about education options and opportunities like traineeships, apprenticeships, scholarships and development programs. This information should be given in a range of accessible formats – to all students.
I want to see better access to and within TAFE and university courses, I’ve heard some students going to university can’t even get inside the building.
I want to see less segregation and more employment in traditional workplaces. Meaningful work, minimum wage, no more excuses.
I want to see barriers to employment broken down. Disabled people have a right to work. If the thought of employing disabled people scares people, I urge them to start by watching Employable Me on iview, which is a good entry into showing employers that it’s not so hard employing disabled people.
I want to see an increase in disabled people hired in organisations a paid at or above minimum wage, and not just hired for entry level programs, or behind the scenes work. And I want to see disabled employees nurtured and valued and given accessible opportunities once employed.

And I want to see the government and councils to enable disabled people to start their own small businesses through grants, development programs and encouragement to use NDIS funding to do this.
Finally, I want to see disabled people working in areas that make decisions that impact on other disabled people – in schools, in disability organisations, in healthcare and in government and parliament. “Nothing about us without us”, as disability rights activists say.

Sometimes it just takes someone like you to recognise a disabled person’s potential and assist to remove the barriers constructed by society.

You might have heard about the late disability rights activist Annie McDonald who had Cerebral Palsy. She was unable to walk, talk or feed herself. Annie was placed in a government institution at the age of three and lived there for 11 years. She was neglected and starved, and weighed only 12 kg when she was 16. When teaching student Rosemary Crossley met her in the institution, and chose her to participate in a university assignment, she saw potential, and practiced facilitated communication. Anne thrived, and sought a court order to leave the institution and live with Rosemary. She received no formal education in the institution, but completed her HSC and then a degree in humanities 1993. Anne authored academic papers and books, and presented at conferences. People thought that Anne’s inability to speak meant low intelligence. Their low expectations of her were her biggest barrier.

Anne wrote:

“I tried to show the world that when people without speech were given the opportunity to participate in education we could succeed. I went to Deakin University and got myself a degree. That, too, was seen as an exception.

“I gave papers and wrote articles on the right to communicate. I set up a website to show that there was hope for people without speech. People thanked me for being an inspiration; however, they didn’t understand why there weren’t more like me. They continued to act as if speech was the same thing as intelligence, and to pretend that you can tell a person’s capacity by whether or not they can speak.

“Please listen to me now.”

To end, I implore you all to keep working to ensure barriers to employment, volunteering and employment are broken, and that young people have access to information about education and employment opportunities that give them choice, control and freedom. This will change lives.

Thank you

Has this helped you? Will You use it in your workplace or classroom? Plssse consider buying me a drink to say thanks.

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My speech on confidence and resilience at the Australian Tax Office

Some of you who know me might know that I used to work for the Australian Tax Office (ATO).  I never disclosed it when I worked there, because extremely strict social media rules within the code of conduct. But I am able to tell you now, because I resigned in November 2017.  

I was invited back to the ATO last Friday 27 April to give a talk on confidence, resilience, speaking back to power and creating positive change. It was strange to return – some people didn’t even know I left as I left after a years leave without pay, and before that, a secondment.

The audience I had was excellent, though I was sad that more than 15 or so people didn’t attend.   There we’re some friendly familiar faces in the crowd, but for this to truly make a ripple and get people thinking about inclusive workplaces, more people – especially senior staff – needed to have been there, you know?

Thanks for having me back. I really hope this resonates with many emerging and senior leaders and everyone in between – some audience members took lots of notes and the questions I received after my speech certainly indicated that it did.

Here is the transcript of my talk.

I pay my respects to the people of the Kulin Nation, and recognise Aboriginal Elders past, present and future. I also acknowledge the disability activists who have and are still paving the way for equity today.

I’m Carly Findlay, and I used to work at the ATO. Now I’m a writer, speaker, trainer, podcaster, occasional model, and access and inclusion coordinator at Melbourne Fringe. I’m also writing a book called Say Hello, which will be published by Harper Collins early next year.

This has been such a varied work week. I’ve worked on the edits of my book, written an article for a feminist website, flown to Newcastle and delivered disability training there and in Sydney, worked on this speech, worked at my day job, and delivered this speech. It’s far from the structure of 8:30-4:51 at the ATO.

I worked at the ATO for 15 years. For just over one year of that, I was at the Australian Charity and Not for Profits Commission (ACNC), I spent another year as EA to the Aged Care Complaints Commissioner and my final year on unpaid leave. I do miss it – especially running events for Site Leadership, the friends I made, the regular and satisfying paycheck, and the generous superannuation.

I was afforded so many great opportunities here – highlights include being a site coordinator for around six years – the best job with the best managers I’ve ever had – they were supportive, nurturing and great fun; getting a good insight into government social media and communications at the ACNC; communicating the move from five CBD buildings to one building in Collins St in 2012, and winning an Australia day medal.

But I also experienced some difficulties including bullying, discrimination and the low expectations that come with being a disabled person.

I identify as a disabled woman with a facial difference. I’ve been forced into being confident and resilient – to advocate for myself and others, to ensure I lead a full and active life, and also to prove people wrong – inside and out of work.

From being stopped by strangers to enquire about my face and be offered some multi level marketing face cream (that’s happened at the ATO too!), to the unconscious – or conscious – bias in recruitment processes (like the time I was told I didn’t get a job because the clients would be too interested in my skin condition rather than the government product I would be promoting), to being refused service by taxi drivers and cleaners; and being expected to work for free – these things all knock my confidence, but I have to get back up again to prove to people that I am in fact capable, worthy and not what they expect me to be. When it comes to the selection criteria about negotiating difficult situations, I have a lot of examples to list!

People make assumptions about me before I even speak, and these assumptions are often limiting. I feel I have to work harder than many others I know, in defiance. Quite often I went to work when I was very unwell, because I felt I had to show gratitude for the opportunity and for the right to work. That’s resilience.

I lost some confidence while working at the ATO because no matter how qualified I was or how much experience I was getting both within the organisation and working outside, I just wasn’t being promoted. I guess I was seen a risk – assumed I would have a lot of time off work, or didn’t fit the area’s image, or the assumption that my media profile was compromising the ATO’s reputation. So I chose to progress my career outside, writing for the media and speaking at events. This prepared me when I made the leap to quit.

Towards the end of my time at the ATO, I experienced a funny parallel between work in APS and my media and speaking profile. I was often unable to speak in meetings as I was merely an APS 4, sometimes 5, yet my writing was regularly on the front page of The Age website. I once took an extended lunch break to attend a conference where I spoke ahead of Julia Gillard. I returned to my desk, where I filled envelopes and reconciled cab charges. Such a stark difference.

And so I made the decision to gradually go it alone – to do my own thing. I took a year leave without pay to work part time and freelance on the side, and later last year, I resigned. I chose to forgo a stable job and regular pay so I could speak up more about things I couldn’t in the ATO – like echoing Senator Jordon Steele-John’s call to increase the number of disabled employees in the APS, or the concerning decision for the NDIS outsourcing operations to Serco and ditching the increased Medicare levy, or the Victorian Government’s decision to source work from Australian disability enterprises – most pay employees less than $3 an hour – all announced in the past week, and all things I’ve spoken up about on social media. And I took the leap so I could progress my career and not be defined or limited by my APS level.

A lot has happened since I left the ATO. I got married, got verified on social media and got reading glasses! Some highlights have been getting a book deal with Harper Collins, appearing on ABC’s You Can’t Ask That, the rich and varied work I’m doing including being a regular on the ABC, writing for more mainstream media, lecturing medical students, speaking at councils, conferences and NSW Parliament House, and being recognised as a leader in my field.

I now have a part time job as access and inclusion coordinator at Melbourne Fringe – where my lived experience of disability is valued, and I’m able to provide advice on access and inclusion to artists, venues and audiences. My goal in my three year tenure is to increase disabled and deaf artists and audiences to reflect the population – 20 percent – and to make Melbourne Fringe an leader in the arts sector.

And even though I’m often working way more than 36.45 hours a week, my confidence levels – and health – has never been better. Sometimes I can work from bed – like when I wrote this speech – and that helps my pain levels a lot.

Of course, I still experience moments where I lack confidence – and the best thing that has helped me has been to surround myself with people who get it – other activists, writers, and people outside of my industry. Reflecting on those who I have helped through my work, like the woman who read my blog and discovered she was not alone after living with this skin condition for over 60 years, rather than dwelling on the hideous trolling I so often receive online helps too.

Confidence can be lacking because of bullying or discrimination, as I’ve mentioned, because of physical appearance and the way society perceives those who supposedly don’t fit the beauty ideal, and because people feel they’re not listened to.Sometimes I’m forced into situations when I have to speak back to power. It can be pretty scary, to be honest. I’ve lodged a complaint to the human rights commission after being discriminated against by a taxi driver, I’ve addressed bullying with colleagues, and I’ve been assertive to big business after they’ve asked me to write or speak for no pay. It’s not easy, and I suspect I’ve been labelled loud and troublesome more than once.

Most recently, I spoke back to power when Jon Faine suggested my face would be good at Halloween, among other things – live on radio. Faine is a powerful middle class middle age non disabled white man who has his own radio show every day. I’m a regular guest on the ABC. There was a power imbalance.

I was asked to speak about micro aggressions – the exclusionary and discriminatory ways I’m often treated. His interview demonstrated the micro aggressions clearly. I remained cool and calm – answering his questions clearly and politely.

After the interview, I bumped into two of my music idols in the ABC foyer – Tim Rogers and Julia Zemiro – and debriefed with them, and went back to work at Melbourne Fringe. When I told my colleagues what happened, they all gasped and fell silent. No! He didn’t. At the end of my workday, I checked my Twitter and a friend had live tweeted the interview, summarising what had been said, and her feelings about the ableism and intrusion within. Her tweets went viral, with many people in the media and the general public weighing in. I didn’t create a social media storm – others did. I blogged briefly, sharing the audio and wrote how this interview is demonstrative of the microaggressions and intrusions I face. I was a trending topic on Twitter and Facebook. And the next day, it was all over the media.

On advice from my agent, I chose to do two interviews – The Age and The Project, and the story was covered by about six other outlets. Jon Faine apologised on air, apparently his first in 21 years. And I was really careful in how I responded to the social media outrage – I didn’t share any news story apart from The Project, I expressed my love for The ABC, and didn’t berate Faine, instead offering gentle education like sharing the video I did, ironically for the ABC, offering tips on how journalists can cover disability in the media. So many people reached out to see if I was ok, and to offer praise on how I handled it – from Yassmin Abdel Magied – who has experienced her fair share of media storms, to Andrew Denton – one of my favourite interviewers.

I was most worried that this situation would hamper my future with the ABC, but I’ve been invited back to speak already! It’s rare that non disabled people call out ableism and discrimination – often it’s left up to disabled people to fight. But the public had my back. And it was good to see that perhaps the work that myself and so many other disabled people are doing to highlight disability rights issues is becoming a part of the public conscious.

I think I succeeded in this situation because I was polite and gentle during and after the interview, showing gratitude to the ABC, but I was also assertive and educative.

It’s really important for senior leaders to create a safe space for employees to disclose and speak up. Many people I know don’t feel safe speaking up about their disability or being Aboriginal or LGBTI in the workplace – for fear of stigma or losing their jobs.

I was forced to be confident early on in my career at the ATO when my health suffered due to being in a job that wasn’t the right fit for me. I’ve got no choice about disclosing, my skin condition is obvious, but the physical symptoms aren’t well known. I chose to tell my managers and colleagues about my skin condition – that it wasn’t just cosmetic – in the hope they’d understand I wasn’t just going to hospital to let the work pile up for them, I was actually quite unwell.

When I got the confidence to speak up then, I realised that if I told my managers about my skin, and what I needed in terms of flexible work hours, and understanding, my access needs were met and I was happier and healthier and more productive at work. Most years, my sick leave was below the public service average. Since that nervous discussion with my managers and colleagues in 2005, I’ve been able to talk to all of my new managers about my skin and access needs, and regularly disclose when applying for jobs and also in the media.

So how can you create a safe space for diverse people to disclose and speak up?

Walk the talk that your diversity policies state.
Be inclusive by inviting people from diverse backgrounds to lead initiatives about people from diverse backgrounds.
Don’t just recruit diverse employees, but nurture us, promote us and retain us.
No more straight, rich, old, non disabled men as diversity champions – give those roles to diverse people. Nothing about us without us. [This bit got a cheer!]

Finally, I’ve been asked to provide some confidence boosting tips

Don’t let your APS level define you. You all have value.
Have a passion project that’s different to your job – within the ATO or outside. Use that do develop your skills – especially if you feel you can’t within. Writing and speaking outside of my ATO job was how I developed the skills and networks to make the leap to a career outside of the public service.
Educate confidently yet gently. Prepare well. Make notes, source quotes from other experts. Offer your guidance. Teach someone how to do better by setting a good example.
Use your difference to your advantage and create change. Join a committee in the diversity networks, speak at events, offer your expertise.
Don’t be afraid to talk to colleagues more senior than you. If they’re in the field that you want to be in, send them an invite to have a coffee. I’ve connected with APS commissioners on twitter in the past year, and have worked with two of them.
Have the courage to start difficult conversations to create change. People are uncomfortable with conversations around diversity – especially when they’re led by diverse groups. But they should be, and we should be heard.
Dress fabulously. It might seem superficial, but a well fitted, bright dress gives me confidence no matter how sore I feel.
Become an expert on something. Research, write about it, collaborate with others, share work by others in the same field, become a trusted source. I’ve done this on social media.
Amplify other voices that are often not heard, as well as your own. Put someone else’s name forward for an opportunity. I regularly use my social media platforms and media opportunities to ensure a wide range of disabled people are heard.
Take opportunities. Get out of your comfort zone, that you might not be ready for. Do something that scares you. In 2016, just as I commenced leave without pay from the ATO, I made a list of all the things I could do to supplement my part time income – which was 40 percent less than my wage at the ATO. My partner suggested I pitch to big business. I don’t believe in woo, but the day after I added his idea to my list, I got a call from a manager within a large not for profit in NSW. They found me on social media, and were interested in my work. They asked me to do a tender to deliver training to 400 employees. And I didn’t know how to do a tender, nor did I know what to charge. But I did it, asked some advice from mentors, and I won the tender for a two year contract! I now travel to Sydney once or twice a month to talk to employees at a refugee settlement service about raising the expectations s of disabled people.
Read the room – gauge when it’s ok to speak up. Perhaps it’s better to send an email or talk to someone quietly after the meeting. Choose when to call someone out publicly – will it benefit more than just that one person?
Find mentors – especially ones who align with your values.
Know that it’s ok not to do something you don’t enjoy. This doesn’t mean you need to be entitled and avoid the mundane tasks. But if something is not fulfilling you, create a path to what you do want to do.
Be the change you want to see. I was tired of the way my skin condition was portrayed in the media. So I changed it by participating in the media.
To the senior leaders in the room – if an employee has the confidence to speak up about something concerning like being bullied or facing discrimination, have the confidence to listen and act. For many of us who have endured constant bullying and discrimination, we come to recognise behaviours, and are the experts in how we are treated. Don’t take the side of the bully.

That concludes my talk today. I am Carly Findlay, you can find me online, or on my book tour next year. Thank you.

Has this speech transcript helped you or made you think? Will you use it in your workplace? Please consider buying me a drink to show gratutude. Thanks! 

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The struggle as a disability activist while writing my memoir

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I wrote this for the Feminist Writers Festival, on the struggles I’m having writing my own book as a disability activist. It’s not just the enormous amount of work that is difficult, but the purity politics. It was a difficult piece to write because this has been a difficult time.

Read it here.

“Around a year ago, I got a book deal to write a memoir. Due out early next year, Say Hello will tell my story of life with the rare, severe skin condition ichthyosis. Writing this book has been the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but not just because of the length or the subject matter. It’s because in the process of writing this book, my disability activism has been questioned….

“I could either be stifled by fear and do nothing at all to create change, or do activism my own way, and create something I needed when I was younger.”

Thanks to the Feminist Writers Festival for having me. Attend the Victorian events on 25 – 27 May.

More writing like this will be in my memoir Say Hello, out in early 2019. Sign up to my mailing list for updates. 

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Image: woman with red face, short dark curly hair and bright dress, smiling. Above the photo is text in the form of a red and blue logo that reads “Feminist Writers Festival” and a heading and byline that reads “SAY HELLO: DOING DISABILITY ACTIVISM MY OWN WAY

Features, News

By Carly Findlay”.

Cyberhate video for Amnesty International

Last month I was interviewed by Amnesty International about cyberhate. You’ll be aware that I have experienced trolling during my time writing online – some severe, some laughable. I spoke about my exprjejeces, and called for social media platforms and police to do more time stop this abuse.

The other brave and articulate women featured are Hana Assafiri, Sara Saleh, Tarneen Onus-Williams and Ginger Gorman.

Thanks for having me, Amnesty.

Contact the  eSafety Commissioner for more advice if you’re enduring cyber hate.

My highlights from the 2018 Melbourne International Comedy Festival – Natalie Palamides, Loyiso Gola, Wil Anderson, Emma J Hawkins and Kirsty Webeck

I have seen a heap of shows at the Melbourne International Comedy Festival this year. It’s the most wonderful time of the year – the city is abuzz with people and laughter. Here are some  of my highlights.  Some tickets were given to me for review purposes – noted below.

Loyiso Gola – Unlearning

‪I saw Loyiso Gola –  a South African comedian – at the Mantra on Russell last night. He is very clever! His show Unlearning unpacks white privilege and ingrained racism, South African history, ‬childhood anecdotes, current politics, and what it’s like to be the only black person at the party. He’s confused about Melbourne trams and weather. Great banter with audience too. Excellent! This is such an important show for white people to see. I think the audience was uncomfortable recognising their white privilege

at times and that’s a good thing.

Loyiso and I chatted on Twitter after the show and he’s lovely. I want my Mum to meet his Mum and they talk about growing up in Cape Town!

Tickets are here.

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(Tickets were given to me for review purposes.)

Natalie Palamide s – Laid

I saw Natalie Palamides’ show Laid on Friday night. She’s an American comedian known for her podcast Hidden Mickeys.

I laughed hard, felt awkward, and Adam became a father during the show. Hilarious and harrowing. Brave audience participation too.

Natalie plays both a chicken and egg. Every day she’s faced with whether she should keep her child or eat it. The show is essentially about the monotony and responsibility of being a mother.

It balanced riotous comedy and very dark themes such as child abuse, miscarriage, death, consent, when and whether to become a mother and post natal depression. It made for uncomfortable watching at times.

It was physically messy – with bodily functions, cooking and eating. The audience was very brave.

LOVED IT!!

Natalie has finished her #MICF18 season now, but I hope she comes back! Find her on Twitter.

(Tickets were given to me for review purposes.)

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Emma J Hawkins – I am Not a Unicorm

I saw Emma J Hawkins’ show I am Not a Unicorm for the second time at the end of March. I had seen it previously in 2015. Her current show at Melbourne International Comedy Festival has been rewritten to reflect current day, with references to Trump as well as the ableism she’s experienced. It’s on for one more Saturday. It’s really thought provoking and funny – and it’s a great opportunity to support disability led art. Go see her!

Two recent audio pieces I’ve done – The Wheeler Centre and Made of Human podcast

Two audio pieces that I’ve done have just been uploaded online. I’m really proud of these and excited you can hear them.

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The first is a recording from Words on Fire at the Wheeler Centre, which took place In February.  I gave a speech urging people not to forget about disability in their diversity and feminism movements. Listen to it here.

I was honoured to be in a super talented lineup including Sally Warhaft, Omar Musar, Leah Purcell, Tony Birch, Moira Finucane and Rosie Waterland. Wow!

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There’s no transcript but there will be a version of this in my book. (Sign up for book updates here)

There will be more recordings from Words on Fire here.

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And the other thing I’ve done – just last Saturday – is chatted to Danish comedian Sofie Hagen on her Made of Human podcast. What a great morning that was! She is lovely, and I could have chatted all day. We talked about how I’m feeling after that interview, the pressure to do disability activism a certain way, what I would like to be asked, the purpose of my writing and how it’s evolved and fandom.

Listen to that here.

Thanks for all of your support in the past week. It’s been extraordinary and I’m very grateful, and also tired. I want to write more of my thoughts about the interview and what happened afterward soon. But even a week later, I’m still processing.

If you can’t get enough of my voice, listen to my regular podcast with Jason-Scott Watkins – Refreshments Provided.

Has this blog made you think or will you use it in your classroom or workplace? Please consider buying me a drink to say thanks!

Talking microaggressions with Jon Faine on ABC Radio

Today I did an interview with Jon Faine and Sally Warharft on ABC Melbourne. The purpose of the conversation was to demystify microaggressions that I (and other disabled people) face regularly.

I think the interview demonstrates the microaggressions I face regularly. Sally invited me on the show after seeing me speak at the Wheeler Centre last month, and told me she is mystified and disappointed by aspects of today’s conversation.

I am… still processing.

I feel I did a good job, even when Jon Faine suggested my face would be good at Halloween (I have written about that issue here), even when he asked me whether I can have sex, even with him justifying unwanted prayers, and even with his reducing of me to a medical condition.

I work (unpaid) with ABC Radio regularly. I love it and am so grateful – and hope for more opportunities. I was genuinely nervous about the interview this morning, mostly about the power imbalance when discussing the subject matter. Today was really hard, and I expected to be treated better. I felt supported by Sally and I know she didn’t want to speak over me. (And a big shoutout to listener Jenny who talked about her discomfort on air.)

Listen here.

Here is a Twitter thread summary and commentary by Jess Walton that acts in lieu of a transcript.

Here are some blog posts I’ve written on microaggressions:

What if I asked you whether you can have sex?

Microaggressions #NoFilter

My face scared my cleaner away

On guard

Girl looks at me and won’t sit near me

Devil’s advocates

Update: Jon Faine has made an apology on his radio show on Thursday 29 June, for which I’m appreciative of. I welcome further discussion with him. The apology is here. 

Did this post help you or make you think? Will you use it in your workplace or classroom? Please consider buying me a drink to say thanks!

Eight disabled women (and one non binary person) you should know this International Women’s Day

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