I worked as an Associate Artist for Graeae for around eighteen months in the later part of the pandemic.

In the course of my time with Graeae, I directed a show as part of The Key Workers Cycle at the Almeida, wrote and directed a new outdoor family work for Greenwich and Docklands International Festival, directed a rehearsed reading of English Touring Theatre, curated and directed a new writing showcase, and had periods of research and development on my own work: a two-hander with integrated audio description and an immersive, multi-sensory family show.

To support my specialism and passion for new writing, I was also incorporated into Graeae’s literary department, supporting disabled writers through mentorship and dramaturgy.

My associateship with Graeae was part of the company’s commitment to transforming leadership in the cultural sector and I had sessions with cultural consultants about leadership in the creative industries. I was also able to be part of a creative leadership team at a London theatre, engaging with and learning about the running of a venue.

Towards the end of my contract with Graeae, I applied for my dream job: Creative Director of a theatre.

To become an artistic leader in the theatre industry is something I had been working towards for a number of years. Here was an opportunity. I had to go for it.

As a disabled person, I have faced barriers to moving into an artistic director role. Early in my career, resident assistant director roles advertised detailed a daunting series of demands on time and energy levels at very low pay, with no mention of possible accommodations for disabled applicants. How would I compete with non-disabled peers applying for these highly competitive roles?

For many years I witnessed artistic directors working punishingly long and intense hours. I became unwell on many occasions, forced to fit in with inaccessible and excluding industry expectations or risk being left behind.

Disabled artistic directors in UK venues were virtually unheard of. The lack of role models was daunting. Frankly, the industry did not seem ready to accommodate disabled leadership.

Reader, I got the job.

I applied with another disabled director for a job share of the advertised role and we were appointed a couple of weeks after my Graeae contract ended. We now work together along with a third colleague as Creative Directors of Queen’s Theatre Hornchurch in a radical and innovative leadership model. Shortly after our appointment, the Unicorn and the Kiln announced disabled artistic directors, both of whom have previously worked for Graeae.

My time with Graeae led directly to landing the creative directorship. Graeae encouraged me through my associateship to explore and follow my artistic interests. I was trusted to lead on exciting, high-profile projects, and I was connected with the venue that I am now leading.

I won’t pretend the theatre industry is an easy place for a disabled person. But standing on the shoulders of activist giants, many of whom have worked or do work for Graeae, I have participated in the fight for change, and brilliant disabled artists continue to make their mark.

For any disabled people who are looking to break into the industry my advice to you: find your disabled peers and establish a community of trust. Spaces like Graeae, full of disabled people and their allies, are vitally important spaces to grow, to share solidarity, to demonstrate that when barriers are removed, disabled people can display their talent and creativity in all its vibrancy.