Beyond Exceptional: Building Workplaces That Don’t Require Magic To Belong
Earlier this year, I attended the 2026 Annual National Summit on Episodic Disabilities and Employment. The keynote speaker was Tina Sarkar-Thompson and I was absolutely blown away by her address. For all intents and purposes, the story she related could have been written by me…or you…or any of the 8 million Canadians who identify as having at least one disability. Tina is a person of low vision. Her employment with Royal Ontario Museum as Assistant Vice President of Human Resources gives her a recognizable platform from which to share her experiences to a wider audience than many of us have. When I asked Tina for permission to publish her keynote address on From Barriers to Ability website, she readily agreed. If you are a person with a disability, you will quickly identify and relate to Tina’s comments. If you are not a person with disabilities, you will find this an eye-opening review of what many disabled individuals face every time we seek employment. Here is Tina’s keynote address…
Good afternoon. I want to start with a definition – not from the dictionary, but from the modern workplace. A ‘unicorn” in a workplace is someone who is seen as rare, exceptional and hard to find Some would say they are almost mythical. A unicorn hire. A unicorn leader. And as a recruiter, my favourite: a unicorn candidate that checks every box and then some!
There have been times when other people have called me a unicorn for reasons that have nothing to do with magic: I am a South Asian woman. I am a senior HR leader. I am a person with a disability. I have multiple graduate degrees and certifications resulting in an alphabet behind my name. And I hold roles in spaces where people who look like me, lead like me, or disclose like me are still underrepresented.
But the reality is that I am not a unicorn. I am unique, yes, but I am not mythical or imaginary. And I am definitely not your organization’s mascot for diversity or inclusion. When we call people unicorns, we often mean it as a compliment. But what we are really saying, intentionally or not is: “People like you are rare”. “People like you are exceptions”. “People like you don’t naturally belong in this space.”
But when you treat someone as exception, you also treat their needs as exceptional. That is where the real story begins.
The Burden of Being “Exceptional”
Being labelled as a unicorn sounds fun and whimsical, but it comes with weight. It means being the only one in the room. It means being asked to speak for entire communities. It means being praised for resilience or achievement instead of being supported. It means being admired for surviving system that were never designed with you in mind. And sometimes it means being admired for just doing your job.
Your job: what you and all your other coworkers are paid to do. That’s not being exceptional, that’s life.
For many disabled job seekers and disabled employees, this “exceptionalism” shows up in very specific ways:
• You are hired because you are inspiring - but not promoted because the workplace isn’t accessible.
• You are celebrated for overcoming barriers - instead of the barriers being removed.
• You are told you are impressive - but not given the tools to succeed.
• You are told you are courageous – but not seen as leadership material.
Here is the irony: People often assume my resilience is innate – like I was born with some magical ability to push through anything. But resilience isn’t magic. It is training.
I hold a second-degree black in taekwondo. Not because I am a unicorn, but because I have spent thousands of hours training: taken hundreds of classes, woke up at 5:00 am to train before work and on weekends, its been years of sweat and countless bumps and bruises. There is nothing mythical about resilience. It is learned. It is practiced. It is earned. But often in the workplace, instead of supporting people to succeed, we often expect them to arrive battle-tested. Already resistant. Already exceptional.
That is the problem – no one should have to have a black belt just to survive their job, and no one should have to be magical to belong at work.
My Job Seeking Reality
Let me ground this in something very real: 102, 47, 30.
These are not lottery numbers. If they were, I would be on a world cruise instead of telling you this story. In HR, numbers help us to see patterns. They tell a story. These numbers are my job search statistics over a five-year period when I was about five years into my career.
102 – the number of jobs I applied for.
47 – the number of first interviews I had.
30 – the number of second round interviews or higher where it was down to me and one other candidate.
Studies have shown that average person gets interviews from 10-20% of the jobs they have applied for. My rate was 46% And that only 2-5% move on to second round or higher. My rate was 29%. Not too bad, if I do say so myself. So, what happened? Did I blow the final round of interviews every time?
No, I did not.
I couldn’t understand what happened because in the final round of interviews everything went well. Remember, I trained for this. The energy was good. The answers to the questions were strong. The rapport was real. The feedback on my experience was glowing. So then, in the spirit of transparency, trust and professionalism – I disclosed about my disability.
That was when the tone shifted – so often it was like the air was sucked out of the room.
The only thing that changed between the first interview and the “thanks but no thanks” call was the fact that I had disclosed about my vision. Not my qualification. Not my experience. Not my references. Not my ability to do the job. Just the disclosure.
And every time, I heard the same thing: “We have decided to go with someone who has more banking, health care – insert what ever industry the role was in – here – experience.” The thing is, they knew what my industry experience was from my resume. It was never a surprise that I may not have had the banking or health care experience. They interviewed me – often multiple times – despite my lack of industry experience.
When I asked for feedback on how in the future, I could strengthen my application, every time I heard the same thing: “We were really impressed with you.” “We enjoyed meeting you.” “You have really good qualifications, but you don’t have the industry experience for the role.” “Good luck in your search!”.
That’s great potential employer that you were impressed by me. But somehow, I was never the one you chose. This is not about bitterness. It is about pattern recognition. Because when the only variable that changes is disclosure, you start to understand something deeper: Being exceptional is not the same thing as being included. Being qualified is not the same thing as being chosen. Being transparent is not the same thing as being safe. And being a unicorn is not the same as being valued. Disabled job seekers know this all too well. You can be the most qualified person the room, but you are still seen as a risk, a liability, a cost, a complication. Not because of your skills, but because of assumptions.
The Fears No One Says Out Loud
In 2016, I was an HR Manager at the Canadian National Institute for the Blind. At that time, CNIB was embarking on a new strategic plan that changed many aspects of how the organization delivered service and did business. The appropriately named strategic plan, “Path to Change,” included how CNIB supported their blind and partially sighted clients when it came to employment. Historically, the organization had employment support programs, but there had been little change in clients’ employment rates. Given my HR background and my lived experience as a person with low vision, I was asked to develop and implement a career support program that aligned with the Path to Change.
I knew that, as an organization, we had to do something different, and the answer was in the name: Path to Change. In HR we are very well versed in what our legal obligations and duty to accommodate are under the Human Rights Code are. We have policies, processes, as well as diversity and inclusion statements in place. That is all well and good, but, what were the real barriers to employment?
As I embarked on this project, I met with potential employment partners. Time and time again, I heard, “we want to hire people with disabilities, we know they would bring value to our organization, but…”. I realized that I had to ask these employers to be brave. To be vulnerable. To be honest, and articulate what the “but…” meant while creating a safe space where they could be candid with me. I also met with job seekers to hear their stories about job search and employment.
I saw two sets of fears — one from employers, and one from disabled job seekers. And these fears were almost mirror images of each other.
Employer fears:
• How do we get to know these candidates if we can’t ask them about their disability?
• What if we say the wrong thing?
• What if we don’t have the right accommodation?
• What if performance becomes an issue? How do we address it because won’t it look like we are discriminating against the person?
•What if we can’t support them with what they need?
Disabled job seeker fears:
• What if they think I’m too much work?
• What if I disclose and they don’t hire me?
• What if I disclose and I can’t get what I need?
• What if they assume I can’t do the job?
• What if I am hired but never promoted?
• What if I am a token hire?
Both sides are afraid of the same thing: Getting it wrong. And that fear shapes disclosure more than anything else.
Why Disclosure is Not Simple
Fast forward to when I was ready to move on to my two most recent roles- Director, Human Resources & Equity at Trinity College in the University of Toronto and my current role as Assistant Vice President, Human Resources at the Royal Ontario Museum. For both roles, I did not disclose about my disability throughout the hiring process on purpose. Not because I was hiding or ashamed, but because I was afraid they would think that I was not capable of doing the job, let alone at senior level. Both times, I waited until the offers were signed and until the pre-employment meeting with my respective bosses to tell them about my needs.
At Trinity, my boss, the CAO, sensed my nervousness over the phone. He said to me “You seem very anxious about telling me this. Why is that, given you are often in my position?” I thought that was a fair question because normally it was my role as HR to talk to people about their workplace accommodation needs. Then he said something every leader should say: “This does not change why we hired you. Just let me know what you need, and we will make it happen.”
At ROM, when I disclosed to my CHRO she was so open and welcoming that I briefly wondered if this is what psychological safety felt like. Apparently, it is.
As job seekers, we should all be so lucky. As HR professionals/employers we can help ensure all candidates have the same experience. But the truth is, that most don’t. And that is why accommodation cannot be just a checkbox.
Accommodation is More Than a Checkbox
Too often inclusion gets reduced to a checklist:
• Did we interview someone with a disability?
• Do we have an accessibility statement?
• Have we trained people on DEI?
• Did we update the policy?
Check, check, check, check. However, accommodation – real accommodation – is not a checkbox. It is not a transaction. It is not a one-time gesture. Accommodation is a relationship. Accommodation is a practice. Accommodation is a commitment to re-designing the environment, not the person.
Here is something we don’t say enough: Employment accommodations levels the playing field. They are about equity, not equality. Equality is giving everyone the same thing. Equity is giving people what they actually need to have an equal chance to succeed.
Let me give you an example:
If I’m 5’2”, which I am, and you are 6’4”, and we are both trying to reach the top shelf. Giving us both the same stool is equality. Giving me the taller stool is equity. Giving me the stool and then calling me “inspiring” for using it…..that’s often what happens in the workplace. Accommodations are not special treatment They are fair treatment. They are the difference between surviving at work and thriving at work.
Exceptionalism is the Enemy of Inclusion
Let me say something that might feel uncomfortable: Exceptionalism is not inclusion. Exceptionalism is a barrier to inclusion. When organizations believe that they have found a unicorn they stop looking. They stop building. They stop changing. Unicorn thinking says “We found one! We’re done!” Inclusive thinking says “We changed the system so there will be many.” Unicorn thinking says: “You’re special.” Inclusive thinking says “You belong here because this place was built with you and others in mind.” Unicorn thinking says “We’ll accommodate you.” Inclusive thinking says “You won’t need a ‘special’ accommodation because the environment already works for you.” This is the shift we need.
Call to Action
To the disabled job seekers:
• Your needs are not a burden – they are a part of how you do your best work.
• You do not have to shrink to fit a system that wasn’t built for you – your presence is not the problem – the system is.
• You are not responsible for the employer’s discomfort – their learning curve is theirs to climb.
• You deserve workplaces that see your talent, not your “risk”. You are not a liability. You are an asset.
• You are not alone. There is a community behind you, and ahead of you.
• You do not need to be exceptional to be employable.
• You do not need to be magical to belong.
For the employers out there – this is where your leadership matters most.
• Stop hiring for inspiration. Hire for contribution. Disabled employees are not feel good stories. They are talent.
• Build accessibility into the system, not as an afterthought. If someone needs to ask for everything then the system is a barrier.
• Normalize accommodation. Make it standard. Make it expected. Make it boring because it is not a big deal
• Replace assumptions with conversations. Ask. Listen. Collaborate
• Redesign your hiring process. If your process filters out disabled candidates as a result of the systems in place, that’s not a pipeline problem. That’s a design problem.
• Create cultures where people don’t need courage to ask for what they need. Courage should not be a job requirement.
Let me say this clearly:
Accommodation is not about compliance. It’s about compassion. It’s about humanity. It’s about belonging.
When you shift from “What are we required to do?” to “What does this person need to thrive?”. Everything changes. Innovation increases. Trust deepens. Performance rises. And people — all people — feel seen, valued, and able to bring their whole selves to work. That is the workplace we all deserve. And that is the workplace we can build — together.
I Don’t Want to Be Your Unicorn
So let me end where I began. I am here today not because I am rare. Because I am resilient. Because I am visible. Because I refuse to shrink to fit systems that were never designed with me in mind. Because I kept showing up in places that were never designed for me to belong. And I am not an exception. There is nothing extraordinary about my capability. What is extraordinary is how often people like me are treated as if we are one offs
There are thousands of people like me: Talented. Qualified. Resilient. Not waiting for a miracle - But waiting for workplaces to stop treating us as exceptions and start treating us as equals.
If we can replace fear with honesty, replace compliance with compassion, and replace assumptions with conversation, then we won’t need exceptions anymore. We will have something far better. Workplaces where everyone belongs. And if your organization is serious about inclusion, you won’t wait for the next unicorn to magically appear. You will build a workplace where everyone… every identity, every body, every mind, every voice can thrive without needing to beat the odds.
That is the work. That is the responsibility. And that is the future that we all deserve.
Thank you.