Are We Actually Doing Better? A JDAIM Reality Check

Every February for the last few years I’ve said I’m done writing about JDAIM  but I can’t seem to not address it.

Every February, Jewish Disability Awareness, Acceptance, and Inclusion Month arrives with a familiar rhythm: social media graphics, panel discussions, synagogue announcements, statements of commitment, and hopeful language about belonging. And every year, I find myself asking the same uncomfortable question: Are we doing better?

The honest answer is complicated.

On the one hand, it would be unfair to say nothing has changed. When many of us first began writing and advocating in Jewish disability spaces, the conversation was still framed primarily around awareness. People were just beginning to learn the language of inclusion. Accessibility was often treated as an afterthought, if it was considered at all. The very existence of JDAIM helped move disability from the margins toward communal consciousness.

Today, most Jewish organizations at least know the words. Inclusion appears in mission statements. Synagogues talk about accessibility. Jewish schools host disability programming. Many communities now recognize that disability belongs in diversity conversations. That matters. Awareness is not meaningless.

But awareness was never supposed to be the destination.

It was supposed to be the starting point.

If we’re being honest, much of what happens during JDAIM still lives in the realm of symbolism. We tell stories. We host speakers. We post commitments. And then March arrives, and the urgency quietly fades.

For many disabled Jews, the lived experience remains strikingly consistent:

• Buildings are still physically inaccessible.

• Events are still planned without accessibility from the beginning.

• Disabled people are still invited to share their stories more often than they are invited to lead.

• Inclusion is still framed as an act of chesed rather than a matter of justice.

  
  

The most telling question may not be “What did your community do for JDAIM?” but rather:

What changed on March 1?

Because inclusion that exists only in February is not inclusion. It’s programming.

One of the most noticeable shifts over the years has been increased representation. More disabled voices are being heard, and that is meaningful progress. But representation without power has limits.

Disabled Jews are often asked to speak, educate, and consult-sometimes repeatedly-yet still remain absent from decision-making tables. Advisory roles replace leadership roles. Invitations replace employment. Gratitude replaces compensation.

We celebrate stories of disabled people.We do not always build systems that include disabled people as leaders.

That distinction matters deeply.

True inclusion is not about featuring disabled voices for a month. It is about ensuring those voices help shape budgets, policies, hiring, programming, and priorities year-round.

A persistent pattern remains: accessibility is still frequently treated as something to add on rather than something to build in.

When accessibility is considered late, it becomes expensive, inconvenient, and negotiable. When it is considered from the beginning, it becomes standard.

We still see:

• Event flyers that say “Contact us if you need accommodations.”

• Livestreams without captions.

• Registration forms without accessibility questions.

• Renovations that overlook universal design.

• Programs that assume everyone learns, moves, and communicates the same way.

  
  

Accessibility should not depend on someone having the courage to ask. It should be part of the blueprint. The question is no longer whether we know disabled people exist.The question is whether we are designing Jewish life as though we expect disabled people to be there.

Many disabled advocates experience a familiar fatigue every February. We revisit the same conversations. We explain the same barriers. We answer the same questions. We gently push the same doors.

And each year we wonder:How many times must we reintroduce the same truths before they become communal knowledge?

This is not ingratitude. It is fatigue.

Progress has happened-but it has been slow, uneven, and heavily dependent on the continued labor of disabled people themselves. JDAIM often relies on the very community it seeks to support to carry the weight of educating everyone else. Inclusion cannot depend solely on the persistence of those who are excluded.

So, are we doing better? Yes. And not enough.

We are better at talking.We are better at naming the problem.We are better at expressing commitment. But commitment without structural change risks becoming ritualized intention.

JDAIM has helped build awareness. Now the question is whether we are ready to build accountability.

If Jewish communities truly want to move beyond February, several shifts are essential:

1. Move from programming to policyAccessibility must be written into budgets, job descriptions, contracts, and strategic plans. Not just event calendars.

2. Fund accessibility as a core expenseAccessibility is not an optional extra. It is infrastructure. Communities budget for security and utilities without debate; accessibility deserves the same treatment.

3. Hire disabled professionalsInclusion means employment. Disabled Jews should be educators, administrators, clergy, program directors, and executives—not only speakers and panelists.

4.Recruit people with lived experience in lay leadership roles

5. Measure progressCommunities track membership, fundraising, and engagement. Why not track accessibility improvements and disability inclusion metrics?

6. Embrace year-round responsibilityInclusion is not seasonal. The work of belonging does not fit into a 28-day window.

Perhaps the reason I keep returning to JDAIM-even when I think I’m finished writing about it-is because the month itself represents a promise still in progress. JDAIM was never meant to be the finish line.It was meant to be the reminder.

A reminder that Jewish community is strongest when everyone can enter, participate, lead, and belong. A reminder that awareness is only meaningful if it leads to change. A reminder that inclusion is not an annual project but an ongoing commitment. So as we end another JDAIM, the real question is not whether we celebrated well.

It is whether we are ready to keep going once the calendar turns.

Because the work of inclusion has never belonged to February alone.

Written By Michelle Friedman

Michelle Friedman is the board chair of Keshet in Chicago, a member of Disability Lead and has been a disability advocate for 40 years. She has written two children’s books and is a frequent speaker for elementary and high school-age students. #AllInForAllAbilities