PWDA Member Emma Bennison MBA GAICD Addresses Members at the 2025 Annual General Meeting
Tuesday 2 December
On Thursday 13 November, at the PWDA 2025 Annual General Meeting, PWDA member Emma Bennison MBA GAICD delivered a moving address to members.
Emma has generously allowed us to share the address with our community. You can watch the full video below or read the full transcript.
In Emma's words:
When we're united, we raise the standard of what this country believes is fair, possible, and just.
Emma Bennison
Watch video
Transcript
Good evening everyone.
I'd like to begin by adding my acknowledgement that we meet on Aboriginal lands that were never ceded and I'd like to pay my deep respects to Aboriginal elders past, present and emerging. I'd also like to acknowledge Aboriginal people who are joining us tonight, particularly Aboriginal people with disability, who carry the multiple burdens of racism, discrimination and exclusion.
It's such an honour to be here - surrounded by people whose determination, creativity, and courage have shaped this country's understanding of disability rights.
I often think back to the early days of the campaign for the National Disability Insurance Scheme. Whatever your view of it today, and I know it's complicated, there's no denying the power of that moment in our history.
We didn't have a single organisation leading the charge; we had a movement. Disabled people, families, advocates, service providers - people from every corner of the sector - came together around a shared vision. It wasn't perfect, but it was powerful. We spoke with one voice, and government couldn't ignore us.
The same was true when we demanded a Royal Commission into Violence, Abuse, Neglect and Exploitation. It took years of persistence, but we never gave up. We came together again, people with disability, allies, and families, saying enough is enough. And we made history.
Those moments remind us what we can achieve when we are united, when we see beyond our own organisations, funding streams, or eligibility categories and fight together for justice.
But here's the thing. Somewhere along the way, we stopped moving as one.
Our unity fractured, and the cracks are showing. The disability rights movement that once roared with collective purpose now sometimes whispers in competing corners.
Our sector has grown, but it hasn't yet matured. We've professionalised advocacy, but in the process, sometimes traded solidarity for structure. We've become experts at consultation, submissions, and social media, but less skilled at building shared power.
And fear, quiet but powerful, is holding us back. Fear of losing funding, of losing influence, of saying the wrong thing, of calling out injustice when it's too close to home, too often characterised by lateral violence which sees us turning on one another.
But fear is the opposite of leadership. Real leadership is about courage, the kind that costs you something.
We can't keep letting government define the terms of our existence, deciding who counts as disabled enough to be heard, or what constitutes "reasonable consultation."
Every time we compete for limited opportunities, or let bureaucracy divide us, we weaken our collective power. Maturity means recognising that progress requires both truth and trust, even when it's uncomfortable.
We need to stop fighting for individual wins and start rebuilding a shared agenda. That means showing up differently. Not asking for inclusion, but demanding shared leadership, shared ownership, and shared governance within our own organisations and beyond.
We need to say clearly, we don't just want a seat at the table. We're here to rebuild the table so it works for everyone, not just those who meet a government definition of disability.
This next wave of our movement must be truly inclusive. It must welcome every disabled person - regardless of eligibility, diagnosis, or label. Because if our movement isn't inclusive, it isn't a movement. It's a membership club.
True inclusion requires us to confront the quiet prejudices within our own culture. The ones that tell us who's "ready," who's "too angry," or who's "not strategic enough."
We sometimes overvalue polish and undervalue truth. We sometimes silence the raw, lived experiences that make us uncomfortable, the ones that reveal how far we still have to go.
We can't demand allyship from others while failing to practise it ourselves. We need to lead with empathy and accountability, not ego.
We must remember that our strength lies not in uniformity, but in unity; in the ability to disagree with respect and still move forward together.
Throughout my work - in advocacy, in executive leadership, and in systems reform, I've seen how lived experience transforms leadership.
It's not an add-on or a checkbox, it's the foundation. It brings resilience, creativity, and an understanding of reality that no policy document can capture.
But our systems still don't know how to value that. They keep trying to fit us into hierarchical, risk-averse structures that reward conformity and punish courage.
That's why we need to create new models of power, ones that are collective, collaborative, and community-led. Not just influencing systems, but redesigning them.
We can't keep asking for a slice of a broken pie, we need to bake something new together.
so what about allyship? When I think about allyship, I think about my new, eight-week old puppy, Bingo. He teaches me something every day about trust, humility, and listening.
He approaches the world with what Zen teachers call "beginner's mind", open, curious, unafraid to get it wrong.
That's what we need in this movement, leaders who are willing to listen more than they speak, who stay curious instead of defensive, and who understand that allyship isn't about leading from the front, it's about walking alongside.
Imagine what might be possible if we rediscovered that unity. Not just in moments of crisis, but as a way of being.
Imagine a sector where collaboration isn't a special project, but a daily practice. Where we lift each other up, share knowledge freely, and model the inclusive leadership we've always demanded from others.
Imagine governments that no longer ask, "What do disabled people want?" because our leadership is already embedded in every level of decision-making, public, private, and civic.
This is not a fantasy. We've done it before - with the NDIS, with the Royal Commission, and we can do it again.
So here's my challenge to all of us.
Let's stop waiting for permission. Let's stop apologising for being ambitious. Let's act as though we already have the power, because we do.
The future of disability rights in Australia will be written by those brave enough to move past fear, to heal the fractures between us, and to lead together.
Because when we're united, when we share power, share leadership, and share purpose, we don't just sit at decision-making tables. We raise the standard of what this country believes is fair, possible, and just for all its people.
Thank you.
