Every year, the International Day of Persons with Disabilities gives me a moment to pause. To breathe. To look back at the year and think about what’s changed, what hasn’t, and what we’re still fighting for.
This year, that reflection feels different. Because for the first time, I’m doing it as someone who’s been working closely with Sherman Theatre as an Agent for Change, a title that sounds big and bold, but for me, it really means something very simple: showing up as myself, every day, and helping create a space where others can do the same.
Sometimes it is not about pushing huge initiatives or delivering big speeches as most of the real change happens in the small, everyday moments. It’s the chat in the corridor or being in the lift where a Sherman staff member will ask me “how to sign ‘welcome to Sherman Theatre in BSL?” Or maybe It’s the email from a team member asking me “Can you check if this is BSL-friendly?”
It’s the relief on someone’s face when they realise they can ask questions about Deaf culture without fear of getting it wrong.
Those moments make me think: this is working. I am really proud to give myself a sign-name which is the iconic James Bond gun sign we often see in the film posters. He is an super cool agent and does daring things and that is how I feel with this job. Although I am not as handsome as James Bond!
One of the biggest joys this year has been setting up Deaf Theatre Club.
What started as a simple idea—bringing Deaf audiences together to enjoy theatre with proper access which has grown into something full of warmth and community. There’s something special about seeing a group of Deaf people arrive at the theatre knowing the space is truly for them. Knowing the BSL interpreter isn’t squeezed in last minute. Knowing they won’t have to strain or guess or pretend.
It’s a reminder that access isn’t a “service”.
It is a belonging.
It is a community.
It is a joy.
It is a culture.
Another part of this role that means a lot to me is delivering Deaf and BSL Awareness Training for the Sherman team.
I’ve seen people’s faces light up when they learn their first sign. I’ve watched creatives suddenly realise how much clearer their communication becomes when they slow down, face the person they’re talking to, or use gesture with intention.
And perhaps my favourite part: the moment when someone gets it. Not just the “how”, but the “why”.
When they understand that accessibility isn’t a box to tick – it’s a shift in thinking, a shift in attitude, a shift in how we make space for each other.
At Sherman Theatre, we believe that theatre belongs to everyone so that’s why we set up Sherman Makers which is a new community theatre group designed to celebrate creativity, connection, and truly accessible theatre-making. It offers a supportive, safe and inclusive space where we can create theatre, develop skills, building confidence, and working alongside others who share our passion around inclusion and access. This will be start in late January 2026 and we’re really excited for this happen.
I’m constantly reminded that change doesn’t just happen because we plan it. It happens because people are willing to listen, to adjust, to try again when they get it wrong.
Sherman Theatre has been doing that work. Asking the awkward questions, rethinking old habits, and making room for new ways of working.
And as someone who spent far too much of my life feeling like an afterthought, that shift is powerful.
International Day of Persons with Disabilities isn’t just another awareness day to me.
It’s a reminder that Deaf and disabled people are still pushing against barriers – some visible, many invisible and that we deserve spaces where our creativity isn’t stifled by the way the world is built.
My role at Sherman isn’t just about access.
It’s about dignity.
It’s about representation.
It’s about letting Deaf and disabled voices not only into the room, but into the centre of the conversation.
Because when we’re in the centre, the stories change.
The culture changes.
The theatre changes.
I know there is still so much more to do and I won’t pretend otherwise but I feel hopeful. I feel proud. And I feel incredibly lucky to be part of a theatre that isn’t just saying it wants to improve access, but is actually taking steps, learning, stretching, stumbling sometimes, but always moving forward.
Change doesn’t happen overnight.
But it is happening.
And I’m glad I play a small part in helping to shape it.