In two days time, it'll be the one year anniversary of the opening of the 2024 Paris Paralympic Games. Les JP, as they were known in France, proved to be a transformative moment for me.
Before experiencing the Paralympics, I thought I had a good handle on inclusion. I've worked hard in my personal and professional life to be open-minded and affirming. But in less than 24 hours, these Games showed me so much about what I did not know: not just about the power of human resilience, but how deeply hidden some of my own blind spots still are.
I'd never really noticed how absent people with mobility differences were from the spaces I move in. The Paralympics didn't just show me the power of athletes — they showed me how much of society is built on assumptions about who "belongs" where.
Watching wheelchair rugby for the first time at Arena Champ de Mars, I was mesmerised — not just by the speed and skill of the game, but by the design of the sport itself. From its classification system to the strategic necessity of including players with diverse mobility levels, it was a masterclass in inclusive architecture.
And it made me wonder: what would it mean to live, work, and relate in ways that actively build space for others, rather than simply allowing them to show up?