Ijaz stood outside in front of a tree with his arms in front of him and his hands clasped together

 

Ijaz Zaland

 

STAART Graduate Ambassador

I am a polio infected person since my childhood, and my right leg is not functioning, for which I do use a brace, and a crutch for my mobility around.

 

What drew you to your current field of study/work, and what keeps you passionate about it? 

I grew up as a disabled child in a refugee camp, where nobody expected much from me. I know what it feels like when systems overlook you, and what it means when one person genuinely believes in you. That’s why I’m drawn to social work and to researching disability and inclusion. What keeps me going is knowing that a small act of support can change someone’s whole direction, because it changed mine. 

 

What is a common misconception people make about your disability? 

That disability means incapable, or dependent for life. Even people who loved me quietly wondered whether I would ever be independent. Disability is not the absence of ability. It means I do things differently, often with more determination than people ever see. 

 

What is an example of an everyday system, space, or technology that people take for granted, but presents a major hurdle for you? 

Distance and access. Long walks between buildings, stairs, heavy doors, and lifts that are out of order are things most people never notice. As a child I walked miles to school every day and was always the one left behind. Today the distances are shorter, but the feeling of being last through the door hasn’t entirely gone away. 

 

If you could magically implement one change across the University tomorrow, what would it be? 

I would make lived experience part of every decision. Accessibility should be designed in from the start, with disabled students and staff in the room, not added afterwards. Nobody should have to ask twice to be included. 

 

If you could point to one specific moment or milestone in your life that shaped who you are today, what would it be? 

Walking to that UNHCR school every day. I was the boy at the back of the line, and I still finished 1st and 2nd in my class. I didn’t have the words for my disability then, but I learned that my body might slow me down while my mind and determination never would. Everything since has grown from that. 

 

What does allyship look like for you? 

It’s not pity or speaking on my behalf. It’s seeing me as a whole person, asking what I need instead of assuming, and making space so I can speak for myself. The people who supported me at university didn’t see “a refugee” or “a disabled student”. They saw potential, and that belief gave me belief in myself. 

 

What message would you like to get across this Disability History Month? 

Disabled people have always shaped history, even when history didn’t record us. If you feel invisible, you are not. I was never supposed to be here, and yet here I am. Your story matters, and sharing it can open a door for someone else. 

 

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