Miranda is an artist and advocate who has spent the past five years working as an Inclusion Officer at VIDEA. Through her lived experience with Down syndrome, she brings a unique and powerful perspective to her work, using both advocacy and creativity to promote inclusion and belonging. For Miranda, art is not just a form of expression,it is a joyful way to build bridges, connect people, and create community.
When creating this piece, Miranda shared that she wanted viewers to remember the importance of having fun and laughing often. Her work is filled with vibrant energy and positivity, reflecting her deep belief that art should bring people together and spark joy. Whether she’s painting, drawing, or creating alongside others, Miranda uses her art to open hearts and invite connection.
Miranda’s passion for inclusion has taken her around the world. Over the last five years, she has worked closely with communities in Zambia and Uganda, both teaching and learning about what it means to create truly inclusive spaces. In 2024, she spent three weeks in Lundazi, Zambia, where she finally met coworkers she had collaborated with virtually for years. One of the highlights of her trip was attending an art class with Zambian youth, an experience that reminded her of the universal language of art and the way it can unite people across cultures.
I am an Inclusions Coordinator at VIDEA for just over a year now. Together with a group of people who have lived experience with disability, I work to advocate for inclusive spaces, within our communities, in workplaces, and in policy, where our voices deserve to be heard.
I live with acute mental health, at times, it has been difficult to create space for all the different parts of myself. But water, especially the ocean, has become a powerful teacher in my journey toward self-acceptance. In its many forms, water has shown me how to hold space for every version of who I am: the stillness, the crashing waves, and the gentle ripples.Through this self-portrait, I explore my deep connection to water as a metaphor for identity and healing. It is through this connection that I allow myself to be whole
I chose to draw a safe food that is both my own and popular among many of my friends with sensory issues: a plate of chicken nuggets. To me, inclusion is making the effort to accommodate someone even when you don’t understand it, or when they don’t ask for it. Sometimes people with disabilities become so used to being overlooked, talked down to, made small, that they begin to stop voicing their needs. My mother is an example of one of my best allies in my disability. She educates herself without me asking her to, always spending time reading stuff about my diagnoses and abilities. She makes the effort to remember what sets off my sensory issues, notes what foods are a hit and which ones I can’t tolerate. She understands when a new food, lovingly prepared as it may be, is something I can’t handle. She shows compassion, care, understanding, in ways that seem small or inconsequential to some, but feel large and grand to me. Even down to the way she and my dad both handle meals, both my allies and strongest supporters: the moment either of them needs to put away cutlery, there’s the familiar call of “Del, cutlery!” as warning, so I can safely retreat from the incredibly painful noise before it even starts. Inclusion is compassion, inclusion is caring, inclusion is remembering, inclusion is learning, inclusion is effort, inclusion is love. I wanted to illustrate this in my drawing with warm tones, colours that please me in a visual sensory way, and the hands with the plates are meant to be my own and my mother’s. I wanted it to look similar to a crayon drawing to represent the rawness and childish wonder of the emotion: the endless, bottomless, unconditional love between a parent and child that I feel from both of my parents, though only one is illustrated. Inclusion is a long process, but can always be started in smaller steps. Sometimes, inclusion is a chicken nugget, offered when everybody else is eating steak.
Some barriers I face with my disability is that food is always an issue. Anywhere I go, food is a barrier. Due to my ARFID and (potential) autism, meals are always difficult. Plagued by intense fear of choking and the inability to physically eat anything that doesn’t pass my safety, texture, smell and taste standards, I often need to bring my own food, eat beforehand, or ask for many alterations to meals. I feel left out, or weird, or like a nuisance. I also struggle to make my way in public food spaces, like restaurants, as so many are not built for walkers like my own. Sometimes accessible advertised places lie or think “it’s just 2 or 3 steps, certainly it’s not an issue”.. I love to go out and eat, but it’s hard. It’s draining sometimes.
I have ADHD and was described as a student with a “learning disability.” This has created difficulties for me in my academic career such as removing me from the regular curriculum which later caused me many difficulties.
My art represents my ADHD through its creative and unconventional style. Every so often I get an artistic spark of inspiration and draw down whatever comes to mind.
I have proudly worked as an Inclusion Coordinator with VIDEA for the past four years. I am passionate about creating inclusive spaces, whether in our communities, workplaces, or within policy. My approach to inclusion is grounded in lived experience. I lead by example and share my advocacy work through social media and active involvement in the community.
I am a proud member of three community advocacy groups: Reimagining Community Inclusion, Inclusion BC, and the South Island Community Council. Each of these groups plays an important role in advancing accessibility and inclusive employment. Being part of these spaces allows me to connect with others, learn from their stories, and push for real, meaningful change.
My art piece is a representation of what advocacy looks like to me. Disability is a unique experience for everyone, and because of that, my advocacy always begins with listening. I look to my community to understand what people need, what they want, and how they define self-advocacy. I believe real advocacy is guided by the voices around us. My work is constantly inspired by the perspectives, questions, and hopes shared by others.
This work was inspired over my time spent rolling Mary Oliver’s words around in my mind. I’ve considered how clear pebbles of the rain move over landscapes no matter how we might (or might not) despair. For me, considering different forms of art and movement has helped me deal with mental health hurdles. This piece says, to all those struggling under the weight anxiety, depression, or any other anguish: write it down, draw it out, do anything, but don’t stop doing. It’s not always about what you create, but the catharsis that comes with creating.
As a person with a disability, my early years were really challenging. I was really segregated in school and didn’t get the education I needed. I felt excluded often and was put in special education classes. I wasn’t allowed to participate in programs that were interesting to me, such as art. It was a hard time for me, with experiencing bullying and exclusion. In my young adulthood, I felt unprepared to be an adult. This led to struggles with my mental health and not learning daily adult skills.
When I think of barriers, I think of walls. Being excluded from things I wanted to do because I didn’t have the right resources and support for my learning needs, or people who understood me and were patient enough to listen.
I’ve overcome barriers by finding the right resources for me and being able to get connected with a support worker who listens to my needs, through Community Living Victoria. I’ve also learned how to be open about my disabilities and feeling comfortable with asking for help. Additionally, I’ve started trusting my gut to be able to recognize who is a safe, compassionate and patient person that I can open up to and ask for their help.
Art distracts me from all the things that I don’t want to think about; bad memories, worries about the world, daily stress, poor self esteem, struggles with my mental health and trauma. Its a form of active meditation that I rely on to help me calm my nervous system.
I hope when people look at my art, it takes them away from the negativity of the world. I hope it brings back their sense of wonder, curiosity and joy.
I would describe it as mixed media based and whimsical. I hope it wakes up the child within us, and our curiosity about the world. I hope it also inspires people to let go of what other people think and embrace what they are really feeling. My hope is for it to provide a moment of joy.
I’ve had a disability my whole life and have found that I have always been behind on my reading, writing and speech skills. But art is something that I have easily been able to excel in. Its how I communicate! I want my art to reflect the joys I feel, not the trauma, pain or fears I feel as a person living with disabilities and mental health challenges.
I’ve loved reading children’s books growing up, and have also loved reading those same book to my own children now. In particular I love their colors and illustrations. I also love Roald Dahl and Dr. Seuss etc.- and felt like they took me out of my life struggles and to another world. I hope my art can do that for others too!
While haveing lurning disabilities my whole life coused me to fall behind in school never be a good grade student all was needing extra help and getting bullied for how i was it was a struggle from elementary to high school one up coming barrier is college/university having to keep up with everyone wall having my lurning disabilities and getting assessed for others.
My art its how I show my feelings the feelings that I feel from my luring disabilities
I am someone who benefits from the advantages of ADHD. I have two professions that nurture diverse and boundless thinking: architecture and artist. Because of this, I have never felt as though I was standing behind a disability. At the core of my creative process lies cognitive flexibility and producing within variety; I enjoy experimenting with different methods and tools and shaping them through my architectural journey. A common thread in my work is the use of vibrant colors.
After all, if we take the colors out of life, what remains?
I know how to tie my laces’
‘I know how to tie my laces’ is a visual representation of how overwhelming it can be
to maintain focus on one thought at a time when your mind attends to everything all the time.
There is noise between and around each line, and every gesture feels interrupted and
disjointed.
‘Fly fishing in an avalanche’
‘Fly fishing in an avalanche’ is representative of trying to construct meaning out of the
absurd, and trying to ascribe words or symbols to feelings that are impossible to accurately
articulate. The lines are inspired by topographical maps, which attempt to depict a 3D
landscape onto a 2D plane. Is the figure emerging out of or sinking into the background?
‘Worm trails’
An artist is no different than a worm who nibbles the bark of a fallen log to survive.
The representation of nerodivergent perspectives in creative public spaces is paramount to fostering inclusivity and awareness. For many neurodivergent individuals, art is an essential outlet for processing our experiences and expressing thoughts and feelings that we can’t otherwise put into words. Being nerodivergent is an intrinsic part of an individual’s identity and is a way of being more than it is a trait that can be possessed. For many of us, art is a way through which we realize our identities and it is essential that we maintain the ourlet.
I am 33 years old. Happily married with a 13-year-old stepson. I grew up with a Severe Rare Debilitating Neurological disorder.
Opsoclonis Myoclonis Ataxia. I was born healthy and at the age of 22 months I developed severe symptoms of eye darting (opsoclonis), intentional tremors (myoclonis), total loss of balance (ataxia). I lost all abilities of a healthy active walking toddler reaching all my milestones with speech and learning. I fell a lot and had many injuries due to loss of balance. I had trouble learning. The teacher’s aides would have to repeatedly explain questions or work sheets before I could understand. I also had hand tremors and spasms. I was self-conscious with my tremors. It wasn’t fun going to school with kids who were not accepting of other people’s disabilities. Making friends was very difficult. I would try to do tasks at the same pace as the others, and my tremors would get amplified. They would look at me funny. When I got older, I would try to cover up and say I was cold or hungry. Overcoming barriers for me feels hard but also great at the same time. I have had to learn and relearn many times to walk and keep my balance, adapt with my tremors, learned techniques for speech, learning and coping with ADHD.
I am proud of my accomplishments. I manage a household with my husband and stepson. I adapt and learn how to set up appointments for my family. I think to myself “Oh my Goodness”I am doing a great job. I attend toast masters. Recently I have found my passion with finger knitting. As my creative outlet.
I wanted to pick up a hobby that was fun and mind less, I tried panting, card making, and drawing none of those hobbies made me feel whole, one year around Christmas time I was visiting my family in Edmonton I was watching a youtube video with my sister in law it was a video of a person doing hand knitting, on my way home from Edmonton I was practicing hand knitting with one of my grandmas ball of yarn i was so excited that i got the basics of this new knitting style it was so fun that I was knitting until I arrived at my stop in Calgary when I got home I went to Michael’s to get more yarn to make more blankets my first blanket went to my friend that moved to Calgary a month after we moved he was feeling home sick so i gifted him the first blanket so that he will feel more at home and supported as of today the blanket sits in his office and he holds on to it every time he feels overwhelmed.I am knitting blankets for my cousins birthdays. I love knitting these blankets as it centers me to all of my sensory need for example i enjoy the softness and texture of the blanket the color blue is my favorite colour I love when blue is matched up with another color it feels very relaxing.it helps calm down my nervousness and relaxes me every time i feel agitated and annoyed from family drama
