Table of Contents:
Why We Need Guidelines
Despite the fact that it should be obvious, inclusion benefits you, your communities, and our struggles for liberation. Inclusion is the practice of cooperation that is required for you and those around to be able to thrive and participate in equity during any activity. By ensuring that inclusion is actually being done in our spaces, it lessens the risk of burnout and, more importantly, works as a harm reduction that takes actions to make sure that our spaces can support a diverse set of people. This dissolves the capitalism-supporting practices of accepting harm (done by ourselves or others) into our bodies, minds, and lands.
If you're serious about genuinely building community and practicing mutual aid, you will learn to cooperate to achieve this goal and honour the boundaries and cultural practices of those around you, yourselves, and the lands in which you reside. Refusals to do so perpetuate the oppressive systems responsible for colonialism, capitalism, and the eradication of diversity within and between lands and people. Inclusivity is cooperation, cooperation requires mutuality, and mutuality requires honouring the boundaries of our surrounds and demands a give-and-take to build inclusive movements together.
How to Identify Your Own Needs and How Organisers Should Meet Them
Colonialism, ableism, sexism, transphobia, homophobia, adultism, and racism suck. This should be obvious, though we still see many of these being reproduced within our own spaces and events. They constantly reproduce historical oppressions and are the driving forces behind the neglect of our own bodily needs that keep us from liberating ourselves. Capitalism relies on the suppression of our bodily needs to function, as doing so removes key knowledge of how to set boundaries. Boundary-setting—heeding the limits of the self and others—is the very foundation of mutuality, which in turn is a foundational in community creation and maintenance.
To effectively set and honour boundaries, it is necessary that we acknowledge, listen, and respect the self, others, and the lands around us. In the event that this skill is lacking, the probability of becoming an oppressor is high. Notably, being an oppressor is exceedingly common and a factual non-insulting statement of what is; it is not a permanent state of being, but it is the state of our colonial selves and something that often governs our beliefs and behaviours.
To recognise a need within yourself, we must start by giving names to body states: "I'm hungry" or "I'm tired" or "I'm anxious." The emotions that have names are possible to perceive and, in organisational levels, you need to have the structures to meet these needs without capitalising on them nor expecting people to handle them entirely on their own. From this starting point, it is a long life's work to collectively construct the structures in our communities based on principles of mutuality and better understand what needs these emotions may hint at.
For instance, when a person says "I'm hungry," it may camouflage other needs: being cold, indecision, boredom, or nothing sounding good to eat. Being able to recognise the different meanings behind a deceptively simple statement can help both the individual and the group to better understand these needs and make them clearer, which also helps to prepare for these varying needs in the future. Perhaps the person may not be able to eat certain kinds of food or handle certain textures, meaning they cannot consume what's available; maybe they have an eating disorder that needs to be addressed or is triggered by certain foods; or they could be food insecure but unsure of where or how to ask for help. Being able to better explain the issue clarifies what is needed for everyone, allowing the person to state directly what the issue is and better ensures that they get what they need. The act of putting words to the facts allows us to also wish for and name what we can do to change the situation. Doing this serves two purposes.
First, it helps people to name their state of being while also making them more accustomed to wishing in their day-to-day life. Such every day wishes are an integral part of dreaming, which can branch into an action. Of course, it might also not generate action as someone could have disabilities, intense social pressure, or shame working against them. However, wishing for something (like wanting a lower temperature) can still spur someone to take action (altering their state of dress, finding shade, finding water, and so on). If someone is unable to specifically name their needs, that's fine; it takes time to even be able to name your needs if you're not accustomed to doing this or haven't had the space to actually name them in public. We're better at doing this in the privacy of our own company, and it can be quite difficult doing it in front of others, regardless of who those "others" are.
Second, in the context of heeding someone's needs during an event or within an organised space, it helps if the organisers model the desired behaviours. They should shamelessly ask for water whenever they need it, openly acknowledge the need for a quiet space even in the middle of a presentation, or directly ask for help with technology or for help finding items (like pens and paper). This does not make people comfortable doing these things, but it sets an example. Organisers should be aware that attendees may want to show them respect and further oppress themselves and their own needs as a perceived social benefit, since this is the expected action to take in a social setting.
It is absolutely essential that organisers do this because of how difficult it can be for others to put their immediate and urgent needs first. Many people will often put their needs off for later as a sign of respect, which is something that we have been taught to do over the course of our lives in many different contexts. Putting off our needs is a form of self-oppression, and it is one that we often do to ourselves without even giving it a second thought. This also includes us enduring events for longer than we otherwise might be able to in certain contexts, such as needing to take a break or to simply leave due to feeling unwell. For this reason, it is better if the organisers incorporate this understanding into the design of their event or space. Not only should it be an inherent part of our structures, but we all need to see organisers and others clearly honouring break times without deviating from them. It sets a precedent for everyone.
In most cases, people require guidance in order to identify their self-oppression, why it happens, and how to heed their needs. Organisers need to be aware of this, particularly as the capitalist helhole we live in incentivises and rewards ableism and lateral violence (e.g., urging others to also oppress themselves). It is in the realm of organiser responsibility to anticipate this and to do whatever they can to mitigate the harmful effects caused by ableism.
Inclusion and Accessibility as Cultural and Political Practices
"Inclusion" and "accessibility" are sets of cultural practices that interface with a vast network of colonial structures. What these cultural norms and practices entail varies greatly between different groups of people, localities, and their surrounding influences. The concept of "universal access" carries a lot of eurocentrism and Western bias, as it does not specify for whom something is accessible. An example of this is the interaction between disabled people and the natural world. A capitalist may demand a mountain hike be made accessible through modifying the landscape and installing pavements, whereas others—in cooperation with the living land—may define the mountain accessible if the general populace's attitudes are that of cooperation or the land is whole.
An example of this that has been made known to us comes from the Sámi community: Two of their main festivals on the Norwegian side of the border are held in places where the land is not paved. On one hand, white disabled people claim that the Sámi festivals are inaccessible to those who use mobility aids; on the other, Sámi people say that the locations where the festival is held are accessible to all, regardless of mobility aid use. White disabled people have heavily hinted that the festivals should be moved, whilst disabled Sámi people work with the land. The prefer the festival locations remain as they are and define accessibility as communal support and mutuality, opting to make changes to workflow and the organisations to accommodate and anticipate community needs for access and inclusivity. In general, altering the land to accommodate disabled people is frowned upon, as we and the land co-exist. Therefore, significant alterations to the lands is considered to be self-eradication by Sámi people, and the preferred way of overcoming accessibility challenges to any space is through community effort.
It is important to note that all biases (eurocentrism, colonialist, racist, ableist, misogynist, queerphobic, etc.) be examined ahead of organising events and throughout the existence of communal spaces. It is easy to use accessibility and inclusion to further oppression if you are introducing these concepts to communities who may not have previously had the words or infrastructure to accommodate its disabled populace. The reason for this is because of how this type of work needs to interface with colonial structures: laws, bylaws, permits, etc. They all influence which choices are available or unavailable to organisers and their communities. Although we fight for liberation for all, we are not separate from the clutches of those structures that can permit disabled people to exist, especially as disabled people are perpetually faced with the removal of support at any moment from just about everywhere on the planet.
Additionally, every community has its own ways of addressing and talking about disability, access, and inclusion. There is a tendency in Western colonial spaces to view disability and its related words as synonyms of weakness and consequentially avoid naming structures and features of disability, access, and inclusion. Conversely, disability is a variation of life—a factual and fluctuating state of being alive that ebbs and flows. Each and every living being will, at one point in their life, become disabled in some way—temporarily or permanently. As such, disability is innate to each living creature and the lands in which we reside. This also means that, at some point, every one of us will speak about disability, access, and inclusion in ways that run counter to someone else's self-determination. While it may create a moment of unpleasant feelings, it can be resolved through communication, dialogue, and sharing perspectives.
Notably, colonisation of the mind and lateral violence is rife in this area of liberation. Many of us still struggle with engaging in acts of self-oppression along with directing our anger and aggression toward members of marginalised or oppressed communities rather than aiming it at the actual oppressors themselves. This may make inclusion work challenging, but it is precisely because of those challenges that these initiatives are all the more pressing. Through addressing them, we may heal the harm brought onto ourselves and our surroundings little by little. Ableism permeates our world, even and especially within anarchist spaces. It is spread and reinforced through colonialism and imperialism, and dismantling those structures is integral to creating and maintaining our communities.
A Few Guidelines
The following guidelines are strongly recommended but are by no means the only ones. This can be used as a reminder for planning events or developing communal spaces, and it can be used as a way to think about how we can better develop our learning over time to improve access to such needs.
Communication and Information Availability
Health and Environment
Mutual Care and Community
Additional (but Still Important) Considerations