In this blog post, two composite narratives of Nyra and Maya reveal the everyday negotiations faced by disabled and/or chronically ill women of colour in academia. From the expectation of overperformance to the silencing of needs, this piece examines how diversity is often performed rather than practiced. Through their stories, we see how inclusion often comes without support, and how excellence is demanded without care. At once a narrative of survival and resistance, this blog calls into question what belonging really means when it’s always conditional.

This written reflection is for organisers, facilitators, and justice-minded groups who are exploring how their events might move beyond surface-level inclusion – towards spaces where people can show up whole, where power can be shared, and where no one is an afterthought. In reflecting on what that involves, I continue to return to Sins Invalid’s Principles of Disability Justice, which offers an intersectional framework for rethinking access, solidarity, and what it means to build liberatory spaces.

Consternation leading to frustration,
to a possible contemplation
yet utter exasperation
and eventually resignation
no, capitulation
to the dominant narrative

White identity, Brown skin?
Hijab in the equation, what a scene!

But as the cold bit into my skin, something shifted. I thought of that kid on the schoolyard, of the lecturers who’d doubted me, of the feedback that tried to break me. I thought of the unanswered emails, the lonely nights, the bank account that always seemed to hover near zero, the weight of being the first. And I thought of me, still here, still fighting, still blooming through the cracks.

So I hear you are considering being a Postgraduate Researcher (PGR) representative (rep). You didn’t ask me, but if you were to ask “should I be a rep while doing a PhD?”, my knee-jerk reaction would be NO. And if you tell me, you are a person of colour doing a PhD, then I would say ABSOLUTELY NOT. Don’t be a rep, don’t waste your time, your energy and your mental health. 

The mere existence of a term – whichever one we choose – is problematic. The issue does not lie in the wording, it lies in the framework of our society that necessitates these terms. Yet we argue and end up in constant cycles of renaming, which I believe obscures our real mission – dismantling a society that makes us need to have this term in the first place.

Every year, thousands of international students of colour, including racially marginalised students from the Global South seek admissions to universities in the Global North, arriving with dreams and aspirations only to meet disappointment and despair. This is corroborated by the findings of a study report by Ankita Mishra published by the Centre for Equity Inclusion, University of Sheffield, which shed light on the challenges faced by international postgraduate research students…

This is my second PhD adventure, and if you’re asking why I opted to take on this difficult task again, I’d say it’s simply a dream. I have a constant desire to learn, and I am enthusiastic about reviving a wide range of skills and abilities. Today, I’d like to discuss a topic close to my heart: the relationship between loneliness, personal growth, and creativity. Let’s look at how embracing loneliness can be a great driver for self-discovery and creativity.

I grew up in Sweden as a black child with white parents. Originally, I´m from Brazil and was left for adoption at the hospital where I was born. The complexity of being brought up in a white-dominant society and never being fully mirrored in my skin colour, personality traits and hair texture made me very conscious about my appearance and my position in Swedish society.

Note: in the spirit of ‘imagining otherwise’, this blog post will be written in the rambling, unfiltered prose of the writer. It will serve to imagine a world in which academic spaces are filled with people acknowledging their true selves, empowered to no longer conform to a standard that does not reflect who they are.

We are expected to critically analyse our rage, write books on racism and give powerful speeches in overtly white panels where we are invited only to be able to add to the conversation, never direct it. Rather than feeling rage, anger or pain, we are told to make sense of it through the same structures (education/universities) that promise us our freedom(s).