Disability Pride Month provides an opportunity to celebrate, reflect and continue important conversations about disability, inclusion and belonging within policing.
As the National Inclusion Lead for Disability for the Police Superintendents’ Association, I spend much of my time thinking about leadership, support and the role that understanding can play in helping people achieve things they may once have thought impossible.
Policing is full of people who are exceptionally good at supporting others.
What we are often less good at, particularly in leadership positions, is asking for support ourselves.
As superintendents and senior leaders, we carry significant responsibility. We make difficult decisions, support our teams and often feel an expectation to appear resilient, capable and always in control. Yet disability, neurodiversity and long-term health conditions do not disappear as people progress through the ranks.
Senior leaders experience them too.
My own experiences of dyslexia and ADHD, particularly getting a diagnosis well into my service, have shaped much of my personal and professional journey. For many years, I simply thought I needed to work harder. Looking back, there were challenges that I accepted as personal failings rather than understanding them as differences in how I processed information, learned and worked.
Like many people, I became very good at masking.
I left school with no qualifications and very few prospects. If you had told my younger self that one day I would become a senior police officer, hold national leadership responsibilities and be undertaking a PhD, I simply would not have believed you.
The confidence that I have today was not the confidence that I had as a child or as a young adult.
What changed was not my ability.
What changed was understanding.
Understanding myself. Understanding how I worked best. Understanding that asking for support was not weakness. Most importantly, having people and organisations willing to listen and make adjustments that enabled me to perform at my best.
This is why workplace adjustments matter.
Too often, adjustments are viewed as exceptions, additional support or special treatment. In reality, they are often the difference between someone surviving at work and someone thriving at work.
The adjustments that I have benefited from have helped me organise information differently, manage workloads more effectively and work in ways that maximise my strengths rather than constantly exposing my challenges. They have increased my confidence, reduced barriers and allowed me to focus my energy on what I can contribute.
Without those adjustments and that support, I genuinely do not believe I would have achieved my next promotion, secured the next opportunity or developed the confidence to pursue ambitions that once felt completely beyond my reach.
This also relies on people feeling confident enough to share their needs in the first place. For many disabled, neurodivergent or long-term health condition colleagues, that can be one of the hardest steps.
I know from personal experience that it is not always easy to tell an organisation that you are struggling or that you may need support. Many of us worry about how we will be perceived, whether opportunities may be affected or whether others will see us differently. Yet organisations can only provide support when they understand what support is needed.
Creating inclusive workplaces therefore requires two things. It requires individuals to feel confident and safe enough to be open about their needs, and it requires leaders and organisations to respond positively when they do. When that trust exists, adjustments become much more than a process. They become a pathway that enables people to perform at their very best.
One of the aspects of my national role that I am most proud of is helping influence policy and practice changes that have improved access to support and reasonable adjustments, including changes that I myself have been able to benefit from.
There is something particularly powerful about being able to advocate for change nationally and then see colleagues, including yourself, experience the benefits of those changes.
That is not about personal gain. It is about creating systems that allow people to succeed because of their talents and potential, rather than despite the barriers they face.
Within the Police Superintendents’ Association, I am fortunate to be one of a number of inclusion representatives who work extremely closely together. While each of us may have specific portfolios or areas of focus, we recognise that many of our protected characteristics overlap.
Disability does not exist in isolation.
Experiences of race, gender, sexuality, faith, age, neurodiversity and disability often intersect, creating unique experiences and sometimes additional barriers for individuals.
Understanding intersectionality is therefore critical. It reminds us that people cannot simply be placed into a single category and that effective inclusion requires us to work together, listen to one another and understand the whole person.
This matters because inclusion is not about one protected characteristic being more important than another. It is a shared commitment to removing barriers, improving understanding and creating workplaces where everybody feels that they belong.
I have worked hard to ensure that the PSA has a strong voice within the national disability agenda, including recently securing representation on the national Disabled Police Association Executive Committee, alongside the Police Federation and police staff associations.
There is another aspect of disability and wellbeing that we perhaps talk about less often, and that is the impact of loss and grief.
Life does not pause because we hold leadership positions, wear rank insignia or support others. Many people living with disabilities, neurodivergence or long-term conditions can find that periods of loss, change and grief have a particularly significant impact. The coping strategies that normally help us navigate life can become harder to maintain, and challenges that were previously manageable can suddenly feel overwhelming.
Recent years have required me to reflect on significant personal loss and the impact that grief can have, both personally and professionally.
Those experiences have reinforced something that I think many leaders struggle to admit: there are times when we need support ourselves.
For people who have spent much of their lives masking, compensating or appearing resilient, asking for help can feel uncomfortable. Yet recognising when we need support is not something to be ashamed of. It is a sign of self awareness, honesty and strength.
There are times when it is okay not to be okay.
There are periods in our lives when loss, pressure, change or personal circumstances affect how we feel, how we work and how we cope. Recognising that impact, understanding it and seeking support where needed should be seen as a strength rather than a weakness.
I would encourage anyone who may be struggling to reach out for support, regardless of rank, role or length of service.
Speak to colleagues. Speak to your staff association or representative network. Speak to your supervisor, your organisation or someone you trust. Ask questions and seek advice.
You do not need to have all the answers, and you do not have to navigate these challenges alone.
As leaders, we also have a responsibility to understand the experiences of disabled officers and staff. Inclusion is not simply about compliance, policies or processes. It is about curiosity, empathy and understanding the barriers that may exist for others.
When we understand our people better, we lead better.
Disability Pride Month is ultimately about possibility.
It is about recognising that talent can sometimes be hidden by barriers, that confidence can grow when people are supported, and that success often becomes possible when someone is prepared to make adjustments rather than assumptions.
From leaving school with no qualifications and few prospects to becoming a senior police officer and undertaking doctoral research, my own journey is not evidence that barriers do not exist.
It is evidence of what can happen when people are supported to overcome them.
If sharing this story helps another colleague believe that their disability, neurodiversity or health condition does not limit their ambition, then these conversations are worth having.
Because nobody should feel that their disability defines their potential.
Nobody should feel that asking for help is a sign of weakness.
And nobody should ever feel that they have to succeed alone.