As soon as I saw the ramp, I knew what was going to happen. Dylan Alcott was going to be named the first visibly disabled Australian of the Year in the award’s 62-year history.
I was delighted. I am delighted.
Dylan Alcott has blown out of water society’s expectations of what people with disabilities are capable of. He’s a beast on the court, making history earlier this year as the only man across any, and all, forms of tennis to win the Golden Slam (shoutout to Steffi Graf for doing it first for all the women on the court!)
Equally, Dylan is renowned for his cheeky personality, A-grade banter and sense of humour. He’s gone viral for crowdsurfing in his wheelchair, won a Logie and added radio and TV presenter to his list of hats. But arguably, his most important role is as an advocate for the 4.5 million Australians who live with disabilities.
Advocacy is why he runs the Dylan Alcott Foundation, AbleFoods and Ability Fest, the first accessible music festival in the world. It’s why in his acceptance speech as Australian of the Year, he wasted no time in pointing out that as the world opens back up again, disabled people cannot be left behind. Nor can we be left out of crucial conversations about employment.
Dylan is all too aware of the weight that his profile carries. He knows exactly what our community stands to gain from his advocacy this year, and so do we. That’s why we’ve all been celebrating, thrilled by the world of possibilities that his elevation into this position opens for all of us.
When Dylan talks, people listen – and I should know. After he mentioned me in his semi-final post-match interview at the Australian Open this week, there’s been a lot of interest in me and my work as a disability advocate. And I know I won’t be the only one.
Dylan knew exactly what he was doing in mentioning my name. He was making sure that all his barrier breaking holds open the door for the rest of us - so that we too can hold open doors for others. Especially those who may not yet be as happy in themselves and their disability as Dylan is, or those for whom being charismatic and extroverted does not come as easily as it has to Dylan.
But even in the moment of Dylan Alcott’s win were examples of how much needs to be fixed. The ramp was a giveaway this time because, usually, it’s not there. It’s still not our country’s (or indeed, the world’s) norm to provide accessibility unless specifically asked. The unusual presence of the ramp shows us that the presence of disabled people in these arenas is considered rare.
Likewise, in reporting his win many media outlets and commentators called Dylan Alcott the first disabled person to be Australian of the Year. He isn’t. Last year’s incredible winner, Grace Tame, is autistic. This erasure of invisible or not immediately obvious disabilities and conditions puts in stark focus how far we have to go.
That’s not to diminish the moment. Rather it’s to highlight the importance that Alcott’s win creates a legacy. That’s the real test – a year or more from now. Once Dylan’s retired, at next year’s Australian Open, will there be the same coverage for the quad singles tournament? Will I be able to watch their matches on the television? Will there have been a notable increase in disability representation across all aspects of society?
Dylan Alcott’s work and achievements must outlast him. They deserve to echo long into the future, until it’s not at all unique to see disabled people on big stages.
Hannah Diviney is a 22-year-old writer and disability advocate from Sydney, Australia. She's also the Editor-in-Chief of the brand new platform, Missing Perspectives. You can follow more of Hannah's adventures on Instagram and Twitter.
Hannah Diviney
Hannah Diviney is a writer and disability advocate from Sydney, Australia. She's also the Editor-in-Chief of Missing Perspectives. You can follow Hannah's adventures on Instagram and Twitter.