Employment Barriers by Rachel Peterson

“Go to work,” they said.

Then reduced access to Total Mobility subsidised transport. Because apparently accessible transport, which already costs far more than public transport, is a luxury.

“Go to work,” they said.

But when your wheelchair breaks, you can wait weeks or months for repairs. Try getting to work without your legs.

“Go to work,” they said.

Then froze or restricted funding for ramps, accessible bathrooms and home modifications. How do you get to work when you can’t even access your own bathroom?

“Go to work,” they said.

Then cut carer hours. The very people who help us get out of bed, shower, get dressed, and get out the door.

“Go to work,” they said.

Then restricted access to Lottery grants for accessible vehicles, assistance dogs and assistive technology. The things that actually enable us to work.

“Go to work,” they said.

But GP appointments can take weeks, and specialist treatment, surgery or rehabilitation can take years. We’re expected to work while waiting for the healthcare that makes it possible.

“Go to work,” they said.

But first, take another day off for MSD, another medical certificate, another assessment. Prove you’re disabled. Again. And again. Then explain all that time off to your employer.

“Go to work,” they said.

Then cut thousands of public service jobs, historically one of the more accessible employment sectors for disabled people.

Now disabled workers are competing against thousands more jobseekers in a market where accessibility and reasonable accommodations are still far from guaranteed.

“Go to work,” they said.

While our entire community is exhausted.

Years of funding cuts, freezes, restrictions, reassessments and uncertainty.

We fight for equipment, healthcare, transport, home modifications, and the support we need just to function.

Never knowing whether the support you rely on today will still exist on Monday.

We fought for our own Ministry for Disabled People. Finally got one. Then watched its responsibilities stripped back and Disability Support Services transferred to MSD.

“Go to work,” they said.

How many New Zealanders know that disabled benefit recipients can be subject to the traffic light system?

How many understand the changes affecting financial support for disabled 16, 17 and 18-year-olds and the pressure placed on their families?

How many understand how much time and energy disabled people spend simply fighting to access basic support?

Time we could spend studying. Building careers. Working.

Instead, we’re exhausted from fighting systems that are supposed to help us.

HERE’S THE THING. WE WANT TO WORK.

We want careers, independence, opportunities and the chance to contribute.

Many of us already do.

Others could, with the right support.

And some disabled people genuinely cannot work. They deserve dignity and security, not suspicion and punishment.

You cannot demand independence while removing the support that makes it possible.

You cannot demand employment while restricting transport, equipment, healthcare and personal assistance.

You cannot cut employment opportunities, make accessing support harder, then accuse disabled people of not trying hard enough.

You take away the very things that enable us to work, then penalise us for not working.

And somehow, we’re the problem?

Disabled people don’t need another lecture about the value of work.

We need the barriers removed, not the support.

You cannot keep telling disabled people to go to work while taking away every possible way for us to get there.

Then punish us for not arriving.