Today, December 3rd, the International Day of Persons with Disabilities, I had the privilege of joining the Richmond Centre for Disability in their celebration. The atmosphere was filled with warmth as staff, volunteers, and members gathered to honor resilience, community, and the ongoing journey toward inclusion.

I was grateful to meet again with Chris, one of their dedicated staff members. Over the past several months Chris has joined events at St. Alban’s and other community gatherings, and it was through his invitation that I came to this celebration. Encounters like this remind me that behind every program and initiative are relationships, people who give themselves generously to the work of inclusion and who build bridges across communities.

As I spoke with others, I was struck by the dual reality they live each day. On one hand there was joy: stories of friendship, empowerment, and the Centre’s steadfast commitment to supporting individuals with disabilities. On the other hand there was the sobering reminder of persistent challenges, stigma that still shadows lives, and the lack of resources that limits opportunities.

During the celebration I sat with a Chinese-speaking member of the community, whom I will call S. S has been living with both physical and mental challenges and had only recently come out of the hospital. Though S does not live in Richmond, the Centre was the only place they knew of in the greater Vancouver area that could offer support in their language. It was moving to hear how grateful S felt to have a community that not only provides services but also listens. The presence of several Chinese-speaking staff and volunteers, and now a dedicated Chinese support group, has created a space where S can belong and be understood.

I also had the opportunity to play table tennis while seated in a wheelchair. The difference was striking, the constraints on mobility were humbling, and I felt a deep gratitude for my own mobility. At the same time I gained a new appreciation for the perseverance and talent of those who live with mobility challenges every day. One man in a wheelchair played with remarkable skill, reminding me that people with disabilities can achieve so much when given support and when their gifts are recognized.

These encounters reminded me that inclusion is not abstract. It is lived in the language we speak, the communities we find, the games we play, and the listening ears that meet us in our vulnerability. For many, the Centre is more than a resource, it is a sanctuary of belonging.

This tension between celebration and struggle is at the heart of the disability movement. It reminds us that inclusion is not simply about awareness days or symbolic gestures, but about dismantling barriers and ensuring dignity in everyday life. The voices I heard called for more than sympathy, they called for solidarity, advocacy, and action.

I left the celebration with gratitude for Chris, the Richmond Centre for Disability, and the lives they touch. Their courage and perseverance are a testament to the strength of community. May we continue to walk alongside them, amplifying their voices and committing ourselves to a future where every person is cherished and included.