I’ve always believed there is a place for disability advocacy in local body politics. That’s why I’m standing for our local board: to ensure accessibility and inclusion are at the heart of how we shape our communities.
The truth is, every term I see the same thing happen. New board members arrive, and I find myself explaining again the importance of planning with all people in mind. Some get it quickly, but for many, it’s a completely new way of thinking. That’s because our planning systems are still shaped by unconscious bias, and in Aotearoa, New Zealand, we still have no robust accessibility legislation. Designers are often younger and lacking the lens to see outside their own abilities; they don’t realise how many barriers are created when accessibility is left out. It’s not intentional, but it has real consequences.
And here’s the kicker: it costs us all more. Retrofitting buildings, footpaths, or community spaces after they’re built is far more expensive than getting it right the first time. I bring the lived and professional experience to help avoid those mistakes, saving money, frustration, and exclusion.
My lived experience as the parent of a wheelchair user has shaped my advocacy, but it doesn’t stop there. Accessibility and inclusion aren’t “disability issues,” they’re community issues. Universal Design means creating spaces that work for everyone, no matter your age, size, or ability. Parents with prams, kids on scooters, older adults, people with vision impairments, skateboarders, yes, even skateboarders benefit from safe crossings, smooth connections, and barrier-free spaces. That’s why I’ve grown fond of the word rollability. Whether it’s a skateboard, wheelchair, stroller, bike, or trolley, we all use wheels at some point, and we all appreciate environments that support them.
Albany Stadium Pool
One example is the Albany Stadium Pool, which opened in 2017 after a $20 million build. Unbelievably, it didn’t include a standard disability changing room. Many of us in the disability community were stunned. How could something so basic be overlooked? I spent the next six years advocating for not just a standard accessible changing room, but one that could truly meet the needs of people who require carer assistance. This meant designing a facility with a height-adjustable change table, shower, and ceiling hoist, the first of its kind in Tāmaki Makaurau. Today, that facility exists because of sustained advocacy. It shows how much can be achieved when accessibility isn’t an afterthought, but built into the vision from the beginning.
Local Playground
Another example is closer to home: a local playground where I was consulted to ensure inclusion was built into the design. My son grew up as a spectator at his local playground, sitting on the sidelines while other children played. Now, at 20 years old, he finally gets to enjoy inclusion thanks to thoughtful accessibility features, like a simple in-ground carousel that all children (and adults) can enjoy together. It’s not a segregated piece of equipment (because really, who wants that?). It’s inclusive, fun, and inviting for everyone.
This playground also shows two sides of design consultation. On one side, the scout group developed climbing equipment on bark terrain. On the other, accessibility features were integrated: soft pour surfacing, swings, an accessible picnic bench, and that all-important carousel. The result is a lovely little playground where all children, families, and carers can come together. That’s what inclusion looks like in practice.
Takuranga / Mount Victoria
A third example is our local maunga, Takuranga / Mount Victoria. I watched as upgrades went in, steps, gravel paths, and barriers that actually reduced our access. Our all-terrain wheelchair couldn’t get traction on the packed gravel, and the box steps made areas we once enjoyed completely out of reach.
But when I was invited to consult on the tihi (summit) upgrades, I pushed for changes that meant everyone could enjoy the views together. The big, round brass viewing map, once raised behind a step, is now accessible to all. The unnecessary barriers in front of the benches were removed, so families and friends can sit together instead of being split apart. Pushchairs no longer block paths, because there’s room beside the seats for them. Picnic benches were made accessible, so wheelchair users could be part of the conversation rather than sidelined.
The 7 Principles of Universal Design (in plain language)
Universal Design is really just good design. Here’s what it means in practice:
- Equitable use – Everyone can use it in the same way, without being singled out.
- Flexibility in use – People have options for how they use it, whether left- or right-handed, fast or slow.
- Simple and intuitive – Easy to understand, no matter your experience or background.
- Perceptible information – Information is clear in different ways (visual, audio, tactile) so no one misses out.
- Tolerance for error – Designed to reduce mistakes and accidents, with safety built in.
- Low physical effort – Easy to use without unnecessary strain or fatigue.
- Size and space for approach and use – Plenty of room to move, reach, and use, whether you’re standing, sitting, or using equipment.
When we design with these principles in mind, we create places that aren’t just accessible, they’re enjoyable, safe, and welcoming for everyone.
Kimberly Graham, running with the A Fresh Approach Team for the Devonport Takapuna Local Board.