Accessible Futures

People sometimes ask how I ended up doing such a wide range of work.

Museum storytelling.
Disability advocacy.
Community education.
Funding.
Climate adaptation.
Project mentoring.

On paper, it can look like I’ve changed direction several times.

For a long time, I thought so too.

When I looked at my CV, I saw different organisations, different roles and different projects. It didn’t seem to follow a straight line.

Then, one day, I stopped looking at the job titles.

Instead, I started looking at the work itself.

That’s when I realised there had always been a common thread.

I’ve never really been interested in collecting job titles.

I’ve been interested in helping people and organisations make sense of things.

Sometimes that means uncovering the history of a community and sharing stories that might otherwise be forgotten.

Sometimes it means helping a community group navigate funding and turn an idea into a project.

Sometimes it means working alongside disabled people and whānau to build confidence, strengthen connections and remove barriers.

Sometimes it means mentoring, listening, asking questions and helping people see possibilities they hadn’t considered.

The subject changes.

The purpose doesn’t.

Looking back, I can see that every role has taught me something I use in the next one.

Community education taught me how to explain complex ideas in plain language.

Disability advocacy taught me the importance of listening first.

Museum work reinforced that every community has stories worth preserving and sharing.

Climate adaptation showed me that lasting change happens when communities lead the conversation rather than having solutions imposed on them.

None of those experiences replaced the others.

They built on each other.

For years I wondered what I wanted to do next.

These days, I think a different question is more useful.

What kind of work do I want to keep doing?

For me, the answer is surprisingly simple.

I want to keep helping people and organisations make sense of things, preserve what matters, build confidence and turn good ideas into practical outcomes.

I don’t mind what the project is called.

I care about the difference it makes.

If there’s one lesson I’ve learned, it’s that careers don’t always make sense when you’re living them.

Sometimes you have to look backwards before you can see the thread that has been there all along.

Maybe that’s true for all of us.

Perhaps the most important question isn’t, “What do I do?”

Perhaps it’s, “What is the common thread that runs through everything I’ve done?”