A few years ago, someone messaged me after reading one of my posts:
“I love what you write, but sometimes it makes me feel guilty.”
That sentence sat with me for a long time.
Not because I disagreed — but because, although it was never my intention to make my readers feel this way, especially when I knew they were doing fantastic work, deep down, I knew what they meant.
When I first started writing and consulting in disability inclusion, my focus was crystal clear: name the barriers, highlight the systems, and call out what needed to change. I wanted people to see what I could see — the patterns that excluded, the processes that weren’t working, the ableism baked into everyday decision-making.
But in my urgency to get people to understand, I sometimes forgot something fundamental: people don’t change when they feel shamed — they change when they feel invited in.
I wasn’t wrong to call out what wasn’t working. I still do that. But over time, I learned there’s a difference between calling out systems and calling out people.
And that’s what this edition is about — the balance between accountability and compassion that sits at the heart of inclusion work.
Calling out systems: naming what’s broken
Calling out isn’t about blame — it’s about clarity. It’s how we make the invisible visible.
Systems — policies, processes, traditions — are designed to create predictability and efficiency. But when those systems are designed without disabled people in mind, predictability becomes exclusion.
When we call out systems, we’re not pointing fingers. We’re naming the structures that produce inequity by design.
Think about the systems you work in every day:
- Recruitment processes that prize “fit” over flexibility.
- Meeting formats that assume everyone can process information in the same way.
- Promotion criteria that reward visibility over impact.
- Feedback loops that exclude the very people they’re meant to serve.
Those aren’t individual failures — they’re systemic ones.
And that’s why calling out systems matters: it helps us shift the story from “who messed up” to “what needs to change.”
Calling in people: making space for learning
At the same time, systems don’t change themselves — people do. And people rarely change when they feel defensive or ashamed.
That’s where calling in comes in.
Calling in is about creating the conditions for learning. It means we can acknowledge harm without losing hope. It means we can name mistakes without losing people in the process.
Calling in sounds like:
“I know this wasn’t intentional, but here’s the impact.”
Calling in takes patience, empathy, and trust — especially in spaces where inclusion work has been reactive, or where disabled people have been excluded for a long time.
But when we do it well, calling in turns guilt into growth and intent into action.
The tension between the two
Here’s the truth: inclusion work needs both.
If we only call people in, we risk staying too comfortable — prioritising feelings over change. If we only call out systems, we risk losing the very people who have the power to shift them.
Sustainable change lives in the tension between the two — between accountability and care, between naming harm and believing in people’s capacity to do better.
This is especially true in disability inclusion, where the work is often shaped by discomfort:
- Discomfort in acknowledging ableism.
- Discomfort in admitting we didn’t design with everyone in mind.
- Discomfort in realising that inclusion isn’t a project, but a practice.
But discomfort doesn’t have to mean guilt. It can mean growth.
What this looks like in practice
So what does “calling out systems and calling in people” actually look like day to day?
It looks like…
- Reviewing your recruitment process and noticing where disabled applicants might get filtered out. Then, sitting down with HR and asking, “What would make this barrier-free?”
- Running a leadership meeting where accessibility isn’t an afterthought, but part of the agenda.
- Auditing your communications and realising your inclusive language guide hasn’t been updated in years, then inviting staff with lived experience to help reimagine it.
- Holding a colleague accountable for a repeated oversight — and supporting them to build new habits instead of just calling it a “training issue.”
It’s about seeing inclusion not as a “checklist exercise,” but as a culture-shaping act — one conversation, one policy, one brave moment at a time.
The role of leaders
Leaders have the greatest opportunity to model this balance.
When leaders call out systems, they set a tone that accountability isn’t personal — it’s cultural. When they call in people, they create psychological safety that allows staff to stay engaged, even when it’s hard.
Here’s what that looks like in leadership practice:
- You call out a policy that creates barriers and say, “We can do better than this.”
- You call in your team by asking, “What would make this work better for everyone?”
- You embed accessibility into budget planning instead of treating it as an afterthought.
- You measure progress not just by metrics, but by the trust people have in speaking up.
That’s what leadership looks like in the inclusion space — a blend of courage and compassion.
What I’ve learned
When I look back, I can see the evolution in my own work.
Early on, I thought my job was to challenge thinking — and it still is — but now I know that challenge doesn’t have to alienate. It can invite.
Because at the end of the day, this isn’t about pointing out who’s doing it wrong. It’s about building a culture where doing it right becomes the norm.
When we call out systems, we create accountability. When we call in people, we build momentum. Together, they make inclusion sustainable.
Over to you
Think about your own workplace or sphere of influence:
- When was the last time you called out a system that wasn’t working?
- And when was the last time you called in the people who could help change it?
- What could shift if both became part of how your culture operates — not just your DEI strategy?
Inclusion work is never easy — but the discomfort means it’s happening. And that’s something worth leaning into.
Keep the conversation going.
These are the kinds of conversations we unpack in the Disability Inclusion Network — a no-sell space for DEI, HR, and Community Development professionals, and others working in disability inclusion, or allies, to connect, learn, and get practical about inclusion.
We meet on the third Friday of every month — you can join us here
