I wrote this article lying in bed, and I know I'm not the only person who has made their bed their office. So why is it still taboo to talk about?
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Working from home (let alone your bed) is still a divisive issue. According to some employers, people who want to work from home are lazy, entitled, and spoilt. But are we really?
Though the COVID-19 pandemic shifted the narrative about how much remote work is acceptable, as employees have returned to the office, we're increasingly demanding greater work-life flexibility.
Just this month, the Community and Public Sector Union announced that close to 200,000 people working in the federal, ACT and NT public sectors will be allowed to work from home "as much as they like".
Hard-fought decisions like these are huge wins for the average employee, but for the disabled workers frequently left out of public discussions, they're a lifeline.
For the more than 1 million Australian workers who have a disability, working from home is often the difference between being able to work or not, and being able to have a life outside of work or not.
As a student, I did the bulk of my university work from bed, so it wasn't until I entered the workforce full-time in 2018 that I realised just how shameful and exhausting it can be to physically go to work when you are disabled or chronically ill.
At one of my first office jobs, during water-cooler chat with my colleagues, my boss suddenly turned to me with annoyance and demanded to know why I was holding my bandaged hands awkwardly in front of my body with my fingers curled inward (the only position that didn't hurt).
Working at NSW Parliament House, I regularly endured the burning embarrassment of perfectly preened Members of Parliament walking into the bathroom where, multiple times a day, I tried to hastily wash and apply ointments to the cracked and bleeding skin on my face, arms, and hands.
Ironically, the conditions I tried hardest to hide at my "professional" jobs were the "invisible" ones - particularly my autism and dysautonomia. Long days sitting, standing, and socialising meant I often endured moments of complete overwhelm. I often cried in the bathroom, and several times nearly fell asleep at my desk.
Frequently feeling like I was going to faint, when I was sure I had the office to myself, I would lay on the floor behind my desk. One day, my boss walked in on me. Another day, the cleaner.
But the impact of managing my disabilities in the workplace were felt long after I left the office for the week. The exhaustion of masking both my autism and chronic illnesses meant that I spent my weekends and holidays sleeping. Too physically tired to get out of bed, and too socially drained from office small talk, I became a housebound hermit, abandoning my hobbies and only rarely finding the energy to spend time with friends and family.
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Today, as a freelance writer and PhD student, I am privileged to be able to work from home, and my mental and physical health have flourished as a result. With my newfound energy, I now socialise, have taken up new hobbies, and even exercise regularly. But I'm one of the few lucky ones, and I don't know what's going to happen when I graduate.
Sadly, having a healthy body is the unspoken standard of professionalism. As a result, disabled and chronically ill employees often hide or downplay their accessibility needs, and pay the personal price when alone and out-of-office.
Often, we have no other choice. Many disabled and chronically ill people don't qualify for financial assistance, so we need to work.
For us, working from home is not just about convenience. It's about our dignity and quality of life. For the bookkeeper who is incontinent, the lawyer who is autistic, or the government worker who can't sit or stand for long, working from home is not just a luxury, but a necessity.
And though we may need to lie down for much of the day, spend a couple of hours attending specialist doctor's appointments, or take breaks to manage our wounds, medication, and self-care, we are no less skilled, knowledgeable and capable than our able-bodied colleagues.
So no, disabled and chronically ill people who work from home are not lazy, entitled or spoilt, and we deserve the right to work from home. And whether we're working from the floor or our bed, we're no less professional than the man in a suit at his CBD office desk.
- Elena Filipczyk is an autistic writer and scholar who writes about animals, autism, disability, trauma, and grief.
