2026: Trust me, I’ve got this.

2023 | 2024 | 2025

I’ve done a lot this year. But I keep coming back to how it felt to do it all.

I felt relieved to be in leadership spaces that had a contemporary understanding of inclusion. With people who were respectful about disability, neurodivergence, and the communities I’m part of, and the work and research I do.

There’s something deeply gratifying about not being spoken for, or misgendered. To have the autonomy and safety to lead on your own needs. To not spend your energy modelling the basics of ‘nothing about us without us,’ or trying to help people influence you better.

To not be constantly bracing.

For people to trust that ‘you’ve got this.’ To see disability through a cultural and identity lens, and for community (both as strategy and connection) to be visible and valued.

This year, I’ve been reminded how much disability culture has informed my leadership and research in ways I am very proud of. I like collecting quotes, and three of my favourite quotes this year came from writing on critical disability theory.

The first two reminded me that access isn’t only about compliance but also connection and relationality:

“What would access beyond logistics look and feel like? Access that allows people to not just be included, but maintain their dignity and connection to their communities?…We are learning and trying and learning and practicing and learning again” (Mingus, 2010).

and,

“Access is a beginning, not an end point … accountability toward disability access means committing to cycles of success, failure, and (re)iteration. Put another way, access is a long-term commitment to do better” (Hamraie, 2016).

The third reminded me that disability culture is something that can be shared with non-disabled people and finds some of its roots in the punk arts scene. It also reminded me of what I have with my best friend and co-founder, and the association we’ve built and stewarded:

“What does it look like? Radical openness and real, tangible mutual care, for starters….It means nodding in furious understanding while not trying to fix anything….I now wonder if non-disabled people could be encouraged to engage with this side of disability culture (without taking over, of course). I suspect that non-disabled people could benefit from a little slowing down, a little helping hand, a little community-mindedness. In other words, a little disability culture” (Webster, 2025).

This year, I appreciated spaces that had a little disability culture in them, whether or not they called it that.

In those spaces, I stepped into being Scout (or Scouty – or Scoot, as my wife has taken to calling me), with ‘Scout about’ becoming a catchphrase, usually accompanied by photos of Western Australian flora.

I continued my PhD on open knowledge diplomacy, with critical disability studies as part of my theoretical framework and methodology, drawing on principles of interdependence and collective access.

I drew on my research, lived experience, and leadership practices to continue developing spaces where people could belong in ways that were meaningful and safe for them, including as different and dissenting voices.

I published two journal articles, finished the Company Directors Course, convened a conference, developed organisational strategies, established a national co-design project, and led an organisation to win an award.

I oversaw the production of a university-wide position statement, expanded a member-based organisation nationally, contributed to Board meetings and outputs, oversaw strategic projects, and reflected on different governance models in my work and research.

Yet none of this was done alone. Interdependence was woven into everything.

I listened, led, and learnt from people, and I also wasn’t perfect.

But I was in spaces where people showed up with care. Not for the status quo, but for each other, for better futures, for their work, and for the impact of their decisions. People who wanted to do better.

I had people who trusted me to lead, but also people who checked in. People I trusted in return.

And trust makes room for a lot.

So trust me, I’ve got this.