Autistic, Black, and Bold: What Khadija needs you to know about intersectional inclusivity

The word “intersectionality” is becoming a commonly used word in the neurodivergent space, but what does it really mean and why is it so important? I only understood its importance in the last few years as I became aware that I had so many different aspects of myself: my personality, my heritage, and my abilities that crossed over to make my experience of the world around me unique, and in some cases more difficult.

Different parts of our identity do not exist in isolation. You cannot separate my blackness from my autisticness and you cannot separate me being non-binary from being black or from being autistic. These aspects make me who I am. I’m not just a carer; I’m an autistic and disabled carer. I’m not just a parent; I’m an autistic parent to a child who is also autistic. 

I like to consider everyone in society when I am fighting for human rights. Human rights are exactly how they sound: rights for every human on the planet. So, when helping all humans thrive let’s think of how abilities, gender, race, culture and our physical environment can see some people needing extra support. For example, me being a carer in a major Australian city is difficult enough, but what about the Aboriginal carer living in a remote community? They are often disadvantaged due to being far away from city and the services it offers. Then I see myself as a black parent advocating for my son and my experience of this could be more challenging than a white parent. I often feel self-conscious when advocating with the school and relevant health systems. I feel aware that I may be seen as the stereotypical “angry black woman”, but this is not felt by everyone using these systems. We need to be aware that people who may appear to be in the same boat as us from the outside could have higher hurdles to jump because of who they are and the way they are viewed in society. 

While I am fully aware of how my neurodivergence, my disabilities, my blackness and my gender and sexual identity can be hurdles, I am also acutely aware of my privileges and how others may not be as fortunate as I am to have my skills, abilities and social capital that help me thrive – or at times, survive. Not everyone who has the same disabilities as me has such a strong voice – they may even be non-speaking – or the platform and system literacy that I have. And for them, I will fight even harder. I will use my voice twice as hard for those who cannot speak up, whether that is due to disability or social oppression. 

Even before I received diagnoses for my disabilities, which include autism, ADHD and fibromyalgia, and before I became a parent to a neurodivergent child, I cared and advocated for people with disabilities. I would like more people without disabilities to be allies and help us dismantle the current system which is limiting our potential.

To me, the sky is the limit for me and my son. We do not just want to be happy, we want to reach every goal we set for ourselves no matter how out of reach it may seem. But far too often I see a low bar being set by others, sometimes even parents of neurodivergent children, for example, discussions I see on social media from parents setting uninspiring goals for their neurodivergent children. Let’s not underestimate our potential.

I am living proof that despite my social hurdles, such as being a woman of colour in Australia, being a neurodivergent and disabled queer person, and a mother of a child with disabilities, I have had a solid 23-year career as a leading human rights advocate. I did this despite being raised in a household in Sierra Leone where my disability was not accepted. I had to constantly mask and act able bodied, which was truly exhausting and prevented me from being me. To lead this social change of bringing disabilities and intersectionality into the public consciousness, I have outed myself in every way, and I do this purely to help other people like me be proud of who they are and make society understand that people with disabilities do not need to be silent about who they are and what they need. 

We need to keep talking about how we can live better in an ableist society until we are no longer seen as different but the same as everyone else. I don’t owe my medical history to anyone and it would be less exposing and more comfortable to keep it to myself, but I am sacrificing this in exchange for social change, so please join me in this movement regardless of your abilities. 

Too many people wait until disability is at their doorstep before they care, but why not care before that happens? Why not advocate with us and create a fairer environment for everybody? Let’s create an environment where people with disabilities feel confident in who they are, feel confident in using their voice to advocate for themselves and others and see no limit to what they can achieve in life.

Written By: Khadija Gbla, for Yellow Ladybugs

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 A strong black autistic woman striking a powerful pose, and yelling into the distance.

Khadija Gbla is a high profile, passionate and inspiring African Australian woman and was sponsored by Yellow Ladybugs to create this article. She is a single mum, carer, black, non-binary, queer, neurodivergent and disabled award-winning human rights activist, model, inspirational speaker, writer and mentor. She has displayed great courage and determination in achieving her aspirations of giving women, youth and minority groups a voice at a local, state and international level. Khadija utilises her powerful and inspired voice to advocate for structural change and simple everyday actions we can all take to achieve true equality and inclusion for all people. Khadija Gbla was born in Sierra Leone, spent her youth in Gambia, and as a teenager put down roots in Australia. Khadija was just three years old when the war broke out in her country, Sierra Leone, and ten years later attained refugee status and resettled in Adelaide. Khadija provides advocacy, training, coaching and mentoring, speaking on domestic and family violence, sexual health, racism, female genital mutilation, human rights, gender equality, intersectionality, inclusion and diversity, bias, mental health, disability, the NDIS, migrants and refugees and cultural diversity and so much more through her cultural consultancy, Khadija Gbla Cultural Consultancy. Khadija is the lead voice and campaigner on female genital mutilation in Australia. She runs a not-for-profit organisation, Ending Female Genital Mutilation Australia, which works to protect Australian girls from female genital mutilation (FGM) and to support survivors of FGM. Khadija provides training for professionals, advocacy and community education for practising communities in Australia. Khadija is also a TEDx speaker with close to 3 million views on her talk, "My mother’s strange definition of empowerment". Khadija is currently coordinating COVID and flood relief for remote Aboriginal Communities. She has represented Australia in the international arena at the Harvard National Model United Nations, Commonwealth Youth Forum and Australian and Africa Dialogue, Commonwealth Heads of States Women’s Forum, etc. Khadija has said been recognised through numerous awards for her vision and leadership, including the 2024 SA winner of Excellence in Women’s Leadership, 2019 Instyle magazine’s The Advocate for Acceptance Human Rights Award, 2017 cosmopolitan magazine’s Women of the Year finalist, 2016 Women's Weekly and Qantas Women of the Future finalist, 2016 AusMumpreneur Rising Star and Making a Difference – Non-profit Award, 2014 The Advertiser South Australia’s 50 most Influential Women, 2013 Madison magazine’s Australia's Top 100 Inspiring Women, 2013 Amnesty International Human Rights Activists to watch out in 2013 and 2011 State Finalist Young Australian of the Year – just to name a few.