It’s Time to Stop Saying “Special Needs”: Accessibility Isn’t Special Treatment. It’s Human Dignity

People Don’t Have Special Needs. They Have Human Needs.

Somewhere along the way, society started using the phrase “special needs.” I’ve never been comfortable with it.

Not because I find the words offensive.

Because I don’t think they’re accurate.

I don’t have special needs.

I have human needs.

I need to sleep.

I need to eat.

I need to get dressed in the morning.

I need to laugh.

I need friendships.

I need privacy.

I need purpose.

I need to feel like I belong.

None of those things are special.

They’re exactly the same things every person needs.

The Difference Isn’t What I Need.

It’s how I sometimes need to accomplish it.

Maybe I need a wheelchair instead of walking.

Maybe someone else needs a hearing aid to participate in a conversation.

Maybe another person needs a communication device to express their thoughts.

Maybe someone needs extra time to complete a task.

The need isn’t different.

The path is.

That distinction matters.

Unfortunately, society has spent decades treating accommodations as though they are burdensome, inconvenient, or optional—as though asking for accessibility is asking for something extra.

It isn’t.

An accommodation doesn’t give someone an unfair advantage. It removes a barrier that should not have been there in the first place.

When we say someone has “special needs,” it can unintentionally make it sound as though they need something fundamentally different from everyone else.

But they don’t.

They’re Trying to Access the Same Life Everyone Else Is.

The same education.

The same friendships.

The same opportunities.

The same independence.

The same dignity.

The same chance to contribute.

Accessibility isn’t a special privilege.

It’s simply what allows people to meet ordinary human needs.

Think about a ramp.

The ramp isn’t special.

It allows someone to enter a building.

The building wasn’t built for a “special” purpose.

Someone simply needed another way to reach the same door everyone else uses.

That’s true for accommodations in schools.

It’s true in the workplace.

It’s true in our communities.

A wheelchair ramp doesn’t create a special entrance.

Closed captions don’t create a special conversation.

Accessible parking doesn’t create a special destination.

They simply allow people to meet the same everyday needs everyone else has.

When accommodations are viewed as unnecessary, people begin to see disabled individuals as asking for “special treatment.”

That mindset is harmful.

It shifts the conversation away from our shared humanity and toward the false idea that disabled people want more than everyone else.

We don’t.

We want access.

We want opportunity.

We want dignity.

We want to participate in everyday life without having to justify why the tools or support we use matter.

Perhaps that’s why I’ve never connected with the phrase "special needs."

I believe it’s time for that phrase to disappear—not because people who use it are trying to be hurtful, but because the words no longer reflect what disability is.

Our needs are not special.

They’re human.

The accommodations may be different.

The humanity is not.

The goal isn’t to give disabled people something extra.

The goal is to remove barriers so they can access what everyone else already has.

Maybe that’s why I’ve never connected with the phrase “special needs.”

It places the focus on the person instead of the barrier.

It suggests the person is different.

I don’t think that’s the right question.

Instead, we should ask:

What barrier exists, and how can we remove it?

Because needing to eat isn’t special.

Needing an accessible kitchen isn’t special.

Needing to get to work isn’t special.

Needing transportation you can actually use isn’t special.

Needing an education isn’t special.

Needing materials in a format you can access isn’t special.

The need never changed.

Only the accommodation did.

Perhaps that’s the conversation we should be having.

Not whether someone has special needs.

But whether we’ve built a world that recognizes ordinary human needs come in different forms.

Because every single one of us needs the same things.

To be loved.

To be respected.

To be included.

To be heard.

To contribute.

To belong.

Those aren’t special needs.

They’re simply what it means to be human.

This belief has shaped not only my life, but also the stories I write.

It’s why the next book in my What If We Were All… series is titled What If We Were All Respectful!

Because respect begins when we stop defining people by labels and start recognizing that, despite our different abilities and different paths, our humanity has always been the same.

Coming Summer 2027.