I rang today to ask about phone voting for local elections. As a disabled person, I wanted to know whether the same accessibility that exists for national elections applies at the local level. After fifteen minutes of clarifying my name, spelling out my address, and working through the usual verification process, the answer came back: No. You cannot vote by phone in local elections.
It left me wondering — why not?
Local matters more than we admit
If anything, local elections are more relevant to my everyday life than national elections. Councils and local boards shape the environment we actually live in:
The design of footpaths, kerbs and pedestrian crossings determines whether I can safely move around my community.
- Public transport systems, bus stops, and stations decide whether my support workers can reach me on time.
- Libraries, community centres, parks and pools are either welcoming or inaccessible depending on local planning.
- Local housing rules shape affordability and whether accessible housing is available.
- These decisions don’t feel abstract. They are the difference between being able to participate in community life — or being excluded from it.
Accessibility as an afterthought
National elections allow phone voting for disabled people. It’s not perfect, but it recognises that traditional voting methods aren’t accessible for everyone. So why does that recognition vanish at the local level?
The message it sends is clear: inclusion matters when the “big decisions” are being made, but not when councils decide on the services and infrastructure that shape our daily lives. Accessibility becomes an afterthought, optional rather than essential.
Democracy is local
We often say democracy is about having a voice in the decisions that affect us. But if local elections are harder to participate in for disabled people, then democracy itself is uneven.
It’s ironic: the closer government gets to where people live, the less accessible the process becomes. That feels backwards. If anything, local elections should be more accessible, because the issues they address are immediate and tangible.
Rights ignored
New Zealand has obligations under international and domestic law to ensure accessibility in civic participation. The
United Nations Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities (UNCRPD), which New Zealand ratified in 2008, is clear in Article 29: States must “guarantee to persons with disabilities political rights and the opportunity to enjoy them on an equal basis with others,” including the right to vote. That includes “ensuring that voting procedures, facilities and materials are appropriate, accessible and easy to understand and use.”
Domestically, the New Zealand Bill of Rights Act 1990 affirms the right to vote (s12), and the Human Rights Act 1993 prohibits discrimination on the basis of disability (s21(h)) in the provision of goods and services — which includes electoral services.
At the national level, these commitments are partly honoured through phone voting. At the local level, they are simply ignored.
A call for consistency
Voting is a right, not a privilege. If we recognise the need for accessible voting in national elections, that principle should flow all the way through our democratic system. Consistency matters. Inclusion shouldn’t stop at Parliament’s steps.
As someone who has spent time on the phone only to be told “no,” I can’t help but feel the deeper “no” underneath it: no, your participation isn’t valued here; no, your voice doesn’t carry the same weight in local matters.
But it should.
Because democracy isn’t only about who governs the nation. It’s also about who fixes the footpath, who funds the bus routes, who decides whether our community is designed for everyone or only for some.
Until disabled people can vote by phone — at every level — our democracy remains incomplete.
![Skip to content Chat history You said: draft blog: Rang today about phone voting for local elections, can phone vote in national elections by phone if disabled. Spent 15 mins clarifying name and address, only to be told I cannot vote by phone for local elections. Why not? If anything, local elections are more relevant because of [give examples]. ChatGPT said: Here’s a first draft for your blog: Why can’t disabled people vote by phone in local elections? I rang today to ask about phone voting for local elections. As a disabled person, I wanted to check if I could vote in the same way I can for national elections. Fifteen minutes later—after spelling out my name, clarifying my address, and answering the usual bureaucratic questions—I was told: no. Phone voting is not available for local elections. Why not? If anything, local elections are even more relevant to our daily lives than national ones. Local councils decide on: Public transport systems and accessible buses Footpaths, kerbs and street design Community facilities such as libraries, parks and pools Local housing rules, which shape affordability and accessibility These are the decisions that affect whether I can leave my home, whether my support workers can get to me on time, and whether my community is built for everyone. So why is accessibility taken seriously at the national level, but not locally? It feels like another example of disabled people being left out of the very processes that most affect our lives. If voting is a right, it should be equally accessible at all levels of government. Would you like me to expand this into a longer reflective piece (e.g. weaving in equity, belonging, and systemic exclusion), or keep it as a short, sharp post to drop straight onto your blog and social media? You said: longer reflective piece ChatGPT said: Great — here’s a more reflective draft that takes your experience and broadens it into a deeper commentary on equity, accessibility, and the importance of local democracy. Why can’t disabled people vote by phone in local elections? I rang today to ask about phone voting for local elections. As a disabled person, I wanted to know whether the same accessibility that exists for national elections applies at the local level. After fifteen minutes of clarifying my name, spelling out my address, and working through the usual verification process, the answer came back: No. You cannot vote by phone in local elections. It left me wondering — why not? Local matters more than we admit If anything, local elections are more relevant to my everyday life than national elections. Councils and local boards shape the environment we actually live in: The design of footpaths, kerbs and pedestrian crossings determines whether I can safely move around my community. Public transport systems, bus stops, and stations decide whether my support workers can reach me on time. Libraries, community centres, parks and pools are either welcoming or inaccessible depending on local planning. Local housing rules shape affordability and whether accessible housing is available. These decisions don’t feel abstract. They are the difference between being able to participate in community life — or being excluded from it. Accessibility as an afterthought National elections allow phone voting for disabled people. It’s not perfect, but it recognises that traditional voting methods aren’t accessible for everyone. So why does that recognition vanish at the local level? The message it sends is clear: inclusion matters when the “big decisions” are being made, but not when councils decide on the services and infrastructure that shape our daily lives. Accessibility becomes an afterthought, optional rather than essential. Democracy is local We often say democracy is about having a voice in the decisions that affect us. But if local elections are harder to participate in for disabled people, then democracy itself is uneven. It’s ironic: the closer government gets to where people live, the less accessible the process becomes. That feels backwards. If anything, local elections should be more accessible, because the issues they address are immediate and tangible. A call for consistency Voting is a right, not a privilege. If we recognise the need for accessible voting in national elections, that principle should flow all the way through our democratic system. Consistency matters. Inclusion shouldn’t stop at Parliament’s steps. As someone who has spent time on the phone only to be told “no,” I can’t help but feel the deeper “no” underneath it: no, your participation isn’t valued here; no, your voice doesn’t carry the same weight in local matters. But it should. Because democracy isn’t only about who governs the nation. It’s also about who fixes the footpath, who funds the bus routes, who decides whether our community is designed for everyone or only for some. Until disabled people can vote by phone — at every level — our democracy remains incomplete. Would you like me to add references to international disability rights frameworks (like the UNCRPD) and NZ law (Human Rights Act, Electoral Act), to strengthen it into more of an advocacy piece, or keep it more as a personal-reflective blog? You said: add references to international disability rights frameworks ChatGPT said: Perfect — here’s the expanded reflective piece with references to international disability rights frameworks and NZ law woven in. I’ve kept the personal tone while strengthening the advocacy: Why can’t disabled people vote by phone in local elections? I rang today to ask about phone voting for local elections. As a disabled person, I wanted to know whether the same accessibility that exists for national elections applies at the local level. After fifteen minutes of clarifying my name, spelling out my address, and working through the usual verification process, the answer came back: No. You cannot vote by phone in local elections. It left me wondering — why not? Local matters more than we admit If anything, local elections are more relevant to my everyday life than national elections. Councils and local boards shape the environment we actually live in: The design of footpaths, kerbs and pedestrian crossings determines whether I can safely move around my community. Public transport systems, bus stops, and stations decide whether my support workers can reach me on time. Libraries, community centres, parks and pools are either welcoming or inaccessible depending on local planning. Local housing rules shape affordability and whether accessible housing is available. These decisions don’t feel abstract. They are the difference between being able to participate in community life — or being excluded from it. Accessibility as an afterthought National elections allow phone voting for disabled people. It’s not perfect, but it recognises that traditional voting methods aren’t accessible for everyone. So why does that recognition vanish at the local level? The message it sends is clear: inclusion matters when the “big decisions” are being made, but not when councils decide on the services and infrastructure that shape our daily lives. Accessibility becomes an afterthought, optional rather than essential. Democracy is local We often say democracy is about having a voice in the decisions that affect us. But if local elections are harder to participate in for disabled people, then democracy itself is uneven. It’s ironic: the closer government gets to where people live, the less accessible the process becomes. That feels backwards. If anything, local elections should be more accessible, because the issues they address are immediate and tangible. Rights ignored New Zealand has obligations under international and domestic law to ensure accessibility in civic participation. The United Nations Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities (UNCRPD), which New Zealand ratified in 2008, is clear in Article 29: States must “guarantee to persons with disabilities political rights and the opportunity to enjoy them on an equal basis with others,” including the right to vote. That includes “ensuring that voting procedures, facilities and materials are appropriate, accessible and easy to understand and use.” Domestically, the New Zealand Bill of Rights Act 1990 affirms the right to vote (s12), and the Human Rights Act 1993 prohibits discrimination on the basis of disability (s21(h)) in the provision of goods and services — which includes electoral services. At the national level, these commitments are partly honoured through phone voting. At the local level, they are simply ignored. A call for consistency Voting is a right, not a privilege. If we recognise the need for accessible voting in national elections, that principle should flow all the way through our democratic system. Consistency matters. Inclusion shouldn’t stop at Parliament’s steps. As someone who has spent time on the phone only to be told “no,” I can’t help but feel the deeper “no” underneath it: no, your participation isn’t valued here; no, your voice doesn’t carry the same weight in local matters. But it should. Because democracy isn’t only about who governs the nation. It’s also about who fixes the footpath, who funds the bus routes, who decides whether our community is designed for everyone or only for some. Until disabled people can vote by phone — at every level — our democracy remains incomplete. Would you like me to also add links to the UNCRPD text and Human Rights Commission resources at the bottom, so readers can reference them directly? You said: yes ChatGPT said: Excellent — here’s the revised version with references and links at the bottom so readers can follow through: Why can’t disabled people vote by phone in local elections? I rang today to ask about phone voting for local elections. As a disabled person, I wanted to know whether the same accessibility that exists for national elections applies at the local level. After fifteen minutes of clarifying my name, spelling out my address, and working through the usual verification process, the answer came back: No. You cannot vote by phone in local elections. It left me wondering — why not? Local matters more than we admit If anything, local elections are more relevant to my everyday life than national elections. Councils and local boards shape the environment we actually live in: The design of footpaths, kerbs and pedestrian crossings determines whether I can safely move around my community. Public transport systems, bus stops, and stations decide whether my support workers can reach me on time. Libraries, community centres, parks and pools are either welcoming or inaccessible depending on local planning. Local housing rules shape affordability and whether accessible housing is available. These decisions don’t feel abstract. They are the difference between being able to participate in community life — or being excluded from it. Accessibility as an afterthought National elections allow phone voting for disabled people. It’s not perfect, but it recognises that traditional voting methods aren’t accessible for everyone. So why does that recognition vanish at the local level? The message it sends is clear: inclusion matters when the “big decisions” are being made, but not when councils decide on the services and infrastructure that shape our daily lives. Accessibility becomes an afterthought, optional rather than essential. Democracy is local We often say democracy is about having a voice in the decisions that affect us. But if local elections are harder to participate in for disabled people, then democracy itself is uneven. It’s ironic: the closer government gets to where people live, the less accessible the process becomes. That feels backwards. If anything, local elections should be more accessible, because the issues they address are immediate and tangible. Rights ignored New Zealand has obligations under international and domestic law to ensure accessibility in civic participation. The United Nations Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities (UNCRPD), which New Zealand ratified in 2008, is clear in Article 29: States must “guarantee to persons with disabilities political rights and the opportunity to enjoy them on an equal basis with others,” including the right to vote. That includes “ensuring that voting procedures, facilities and materials are appropriate, accessible and easy to understand and use.” Domestically, the New Zealand Bill of Rights Act 1990 affirms the right to vote (s12), and the Human Rights Act 1993 prohibits discrimination on the basis of disability (s21(h)) in the provision of goods and services — which includes electoral services. At the national level, these commitments are partly honoured through phone voting. At the local level, they are simply ignored. A call for consistency Voting is a right, not a privilege. If we recognise the need for accessible voting in national elections, that principle should flow all the way through our democratic system. Consistency matters. Inclusion shouldn’t stop at Parliament’s steps. As someone who has spent time on the phone only to be told “no,” I can’t help but feel the deeper “no” underneath it: no, your participation isn’t valued here; no, your voice doesn’t carry the same weight in local matters. But it should. Because democracy isn’t only about who governs the nation. It’s also about who fixes the footpath, who funds the bus routes, who decides whether our community is designed for everyone or only for some. Until disabled people can vote by phone — at every level — our democracy remains incomplete. References United Nations Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities (UNCRPD), Article 29: Full text New Zealand Bill of Rights Act 1990 (Section 12): NZ Legislation Human Rights Act 1993 (Section 21(h)): NZ Legislation New Zealand Human Rights Commission – Rights of Disabled People: HRC Website Do you want me to also shape a shorter companion version for social media — something snappy that links back to this longer blog? You said: yes ChatGPT said: Here’s a short companion version for social media, designed to link back to your longer blog: 📞🗳️ Today I rang to ask about phone voting for local elections. After 15 minutes of giving my details, I was told: you can’t vote by phone in local elections. Why not? If anything, local elections are more relevant than national ones. Councils decide on: 🚍 Public transport 🏘️ Housing and accessibility 🚶 Footpaths and community spaces The UN Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities (Article 29) says disabled people must have equal access to voting. NZ law also guarantees the right to vote and bans discrimination. So why are we excluded at the local level? Until disabled people can vote by phone at every level, our democracy is incomplete. 🔗 Read my full blog here: [link to your blog] Would you like me to also draft hashtags optimised for reach (NZ politics, disability rights, accessibility, democracy), so you can use them consistently? You said: Uploaded image redraw him so he's blocking disabled people ChatGPT said: Image created Generated image Generated imageGenerated image Generated imageGenerated image Share You said: Edited image alt text ChatGPT said: A 3D-rendered orange humanoid figure stands against an orange background with its arms outstretched as if blocking access. The figure has a sad facial expression, and on its chest is a black “no wheelchair” symbol, representing exclusion of disabled people. No file chosenNo file chosen ChatGPT can make mistakes. Check important info.](http://custom-images.strikinglycdn.com/res/hrscywv4p/image/upload/c_limit,fl_lossy,h_9000,w_1200,f_auto,q_auto/343613/280994_638062.png "Skip to content Chat history You said: draft blog: Rang today about phone voting for local elections, can phone vote in national elections by phone if disabled. Spent 15 mins clarifying name and address, only to be told I cannot vote by phone for local elections. Why not? If anything, local elections are more relevant because of [give examples]. ChatGPT said: Here’s a first draft for your blog: Why can’t disabled people vote by phone in local elections? I rang today to ask about phone voting for local elections. As a disabled person, I wanted to check if I could vote in the same way I can for national elections. Fifteen minutes later—after spelling out my name, clarifying my address, and answering the usual bureaucratic questions—I was told: no. Phone voting is not available for local elections. Why not? If anything, local elections are even more relevant to our daily lives than national ones. Local councils decide on: Public transport systems and accessible buses Footpaths, kerbs and street design Community facilities such as libraries, parks and pools Local housing rules, which shape affordability and accessibility These are the decisions that affect whether I can leave my home, whether my support workers can get to me on time, and whether my community is built for everyone. So why is accessibility taken seriously at the national level, but not locally? It feels like another example of disabled people being left out of the very processes that most affect our lives. If voting is a right, it should be equally accessible at all levels of government. Would you like me to expand this into a longer reflective piece (e.g. weaving in equity, belonging, and systemic exclusion), or keep it as a short, sharp post to drop straight onto your blog and social media? You said: longer reflective piece ChatGPT said: Great — here’s a more reflective draft that takes your experience and broadens it into a deeper commentary on equity, accessibility, and the importance of local democracy. Why can’t disabled people vote by phone in local elections? I rang today to ask about phone voting for local elections. As a disabled person, I wanted to know whether the same accessibility that exists for national elections applies at the local level. After fifteen minutes of clarifying my name, spelling out my address, and working through the usual verification process, the answer came back: No. You cannot vote by phone in local elections. It left me wondering — why not? Local matters more than we admit If anything, local elections are more relevant to my everyday life than national elections. Councils and local boards shape the environment we actually live in: The design of footpaths, kerbs and pedestrian crossings determines whether I can safely move around my community. Public transport systems, bus stops, and stations decide whether my support workers can reach me on time. Libraries, community centres, parks and pools are either welcoming or inaccessible depending on local planning. Local housing rules shape affordability and whether accessible housing is available. These decisions don’t feel abstract. They are the difference between being able to participate in community life — or being excluded from it. Accessibility as an afterthought National elections allow phone voting for disabled people. It’s not perfect, but it recognises that traditional voting methods aren’t accessible for everyone. So why does that recognition vanish at the local level? The message it sends is clear: inclusion matters when the “big decisions” are being made, but not when councils decide on the services and infrastructure that shape our daily lives. Accessibility becomes an afterthought, optional rather than essential. Democracy is local We often say democracy is about having a voice in the decisions that affect us. But if local elections are harder to participate in for disabled people, then democracy itself is uneven. It’s ironic: the closer government gets to where people live, the less accessible the process becomes. That feels backwards. If anything, local elections should be more accessible, because the issues they address are immediate and tangible. A call for consistency Voting is a right, not a privilege. If we recognise the need for accessible voting in national elections, that principle should flow all the way through our democratic system. Consistency matters. Inclusion shouldn’t stop at Parliament’s steps. As someone who has spent time on the phone only to be told “no,” I can’t help but feel the deeper “no” underneath it: no, your participation isn’t valued here; no, your voice doesn’t carry the same weight in local matters. But it should. Because democracy isn’t only about who governs the nation. It’s also about who fixes the footpath, who funds the bus routes, who decides whether our community is designed for everyone or only for some. Until disabled people can vote by phone — at every level — our democracy remains incomplete. Would you like me to add references to international disability rights frameworks (like the UNCRPD) and NZ law (Human Rights Act, Electoral Act), to strengthen it into more of an advocacy piece, or keep it more as a personal-reflective blog? You said: add references to international disability rights frameworks ChatGPT said: Perfect — here’s the expanded reflective piece with references to international disability rights frameworks and NZ law woven in. I’ve kept the personal tone while strengthening the advocacy: Why can’t disabled people vote by phone in local elections? I rang today to ask about phone voting for local elections. As a disabled person, I wanted to know whether the same accessibility that exists for national elections applies at the local level. After fifteen minutes of clarifying my name, spelling out my address, and working through the usual verification process, the answer came back: No. You cannot vote by phone in local elections. It left me wondering — why not? Local matters more than we admit If anything, local elections are more relevant to my everyday life than national elections. Councils and local boards shape the environment we actually live in: The design of footpaths, kerbs and pedestrian crossings determines whether I can safely move around my community. Public transport systems, bus stops, and stations decide whether my support workers can reach me on time. Libraries, community centres, parks and pools are either welcoming or inaccessible depending on local planning. Local housing rules shape affordability and whether accessible housing is available. These decisions don’t feel abstract. They are the difference between being able to participate in community life — or being excluded from it. Accessibility as an afterthought National elections allow phone voting for disabled people. It’s not perfect, but it recognises that traditional voting methods aren’t accessible for everyone. So why does that recognition vanish at the local level? The message it sends is clear: inclusion matters when the “big decisions” are being made, but not when councils decide on the services and infrastructure that shape our daily lives. Accessibility becomes an afterthought, optional rather than essential. Democracy is local We often say democracy is about having a voice in the decisions that affect us. But if local elections are harder to participate in for disabled people, then democracy itself is uneven. It’s ironic: the closer government gets to where people live, the less accessible the process becomes. That feels backwards. If anything, local elections should be more accessible, because the issues they address are immediate and tangible. Rights ignored New Zealand has obligations under international and domestic law to ensure accessibility in civic participation. The United Nations Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities (UNCRPD), which New Zealand ratified in 2008, is clear in Article 29: States must “guarantee to persons with disabilities political rights and the opportunity to enjoy them on an equal basis with others,” including the right to vote. That includes “ensuring that voting procedures, facilities and materials are appropriate, accessible and easy to understand and use.” Domestically, the New Zealand Bill of Rights Act 1990 affirms the right to vote (s12), and the Human Rights Act 1993 prohibits discrimination on the basis of disability (s21(h)) in the provision of goods and services — which includes electoral services. At the national level, these commitments are partly honoured through phone voting. At the local level, they are simply ignored. A call for consistency Voting is a right, not a privilege. If we recognise the need for accessible voting in national elections, that principle should flow all the way through our democratic system. Consistency matters. Inclusion shouldn’t stop at Parliament’s steps. As someone who has spent time on the phone only to be told “no,” I can’t help but feel the deeper “no” underneath it: no, your participation isn’t valued here; no, your voice doesn’t carry the same weight in local matters. But it should. Because democracy isn’t only about who governs the nation. It’s also about who fixes the footpath, who funds the bus routes, who decides whether our community is designed for everyone or only for some. Until disabled people can vote by phone — at every level — our democracy remains incomplete. Would you like me to also add links to the UNCRPD text and Human Rights Commission resources at the bottom, so readers can reference them directly? You said: yes ChatGPT said: Excellent — here’s the revised version with references and links at the bottom so readers can follow through: Why can’t disabled people vote by phone in local elections? I rang today to ask about phone voting for local elections. As a disabled person, I wanted to know whether the same accessibility that exists for national elections applies at the local level. After fifteen minutes of clarifying my name, spelling out my address, and working through the usual verification process, the answer came back: No. You cannot vote by phone in local elections. It left me wondering — why not? Local matters more than we admit If anything, local elections are more relevant to my everyday life than national elections. Councils and local boards shape the environment we actually live in: The design of footpaths, kerbs and pedestrian crossings determines whether I can safely move around my community. Public transport systems, bus stops, and stations decide whether my support workers can reach me on time. Libraries, community centres, parks and pools are either welcoming or inaccessible depending on local planning. Local housing rules shape affordability and whether accessible housing is available. These decisions don’t feel abstract. They are the difference between being able to participate in community life — or being excluded from it. Accessibility as an afterthought National elections allow phone voting for disabled people. It’s not perfect, but it recognises that traditional voting methods aren’t accessible for everyone. So why does that recognition vanish at the local level? The message it sends is clear: inclusion matters when the “big decisions” are being made, but not when councils decide on the services and infrastructure that shape our daily lives. Accessibility becomes an afterthought, optional rather than essential. Democracy is local We often say democracy is about having a voice in the decisions that affect us. But if local elections are harder to participate in for disabled people, then democracy itself is uneven. It’s ironic: the closer government gets to where people live, the less accessible the process becomes. That feels backwards. If anything, local elections should be more accessible, because the issues they address are immediate and tangible. Rights ignored New Zealand has obligations under international and domestic law to ensure accessibility in civic participation. The United Nations Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities (UNCRPD), which New Zealand ratified in 2008, is clear in Article 29: States must “guarantee to persons with disabilities political rights and the opportunity to enjoy them on an equal basis with others,” including the right to vote. That includes “ensuring that voting procedures, facilities and materials are appropriate, accessible and easy to understand and use.” Domestically, the New Zealand Bill of Rights Act 1990 affirms the right to vote (s12), and the Human Rights Act 1993 prohibits discrimination on the basis of disability (s21(h)) in the provision of goods and services — which includes electoral services. At the national level, these commitments are partly honoured through phone voting. At the local level, they are simply ignored. A call for consistency Voting is a right, not a privilege. If we recognise the need for accessible voting in national elections, that principle should flow all the way through our democratic system. Consistency matters. Inclusion shouldn’t stop at Parliament’s steps. As someone who has spent time on the phone only to be told “no,” I can’t help but feel the deeper “no” underneath it: no, your participation isn’t valued here; no, your voice doesn’t carry the same weight in local matters. But it should. Because democracy isn’t only about who governs the nation. It’s also about who fixes the footpath, who funds the bus routes, who decides whether our community is designed for everyone or only for some. Until disabled people can vote by phone — at every level — our democracy remains incomplete. References United Nations Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities (UNCRPD), Article 29: Full text New Zealand Bill of Rights Act 1990 (Section 12): NZ Legislation Human Rights Act 1993 (Section 21(h)): NZ Legislation New Zealand Human Rights Commission – Rights of Disabled People: HRC Website Do you want me to also shape a shorter companion version for social media — something snappy that links back to this longer blog? You said: yes ChatGPT said: Here’s a short companion version for social media, designed to link back to your longer blog: 📞🗳️ Today I rang to ask about phone voting for local elections. After 15 minutes of giving my details, I was told: you can’t vote by phone in local elections. Why not? If anything, local elections are more relevant than national ones. Councils decide on: 🚍 Public transport 🏘️ Housing and accessibility 🚶 Footpaths and community spaces The UN Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities (Article 29) says disabled people must have equal access to voting. NZ law also guarantees the right to vote and bans discrimination. So why are we excluded at the local level? Until disabled people can vote by phone at every level, our democracy is incomplete. 🔗 Read my full blog here: [link to your blog] Would you like me to also draft hashtags optimised for reach (NZ politics, disability rights, accessibility, democracy), so you can use them consistently? You said: Uploaded image redraw him so he's blocking disabled people ChatGPT said: Image created Generated image Generated imageGenerated image Generated imageGenerated image Share You said: Edited image alt text ChatGPT said: A 3D-rendered orange humanoid figure stands against an orange background with its arms outstretched as if blocking access. The figure has a sad facial expression, and on its chest is a black “no wheelchair” symbol, representing exclusion of disabled people. No file chosenNo file chosen ChatGPT can make mistakes. Check important info.")
References
United Nations Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities (UNCRPD), Article 29:
New Zealand Bill of Rights Act 1990 (Section 12): NZ Legislation
Human Rights Act 1993 (Section 21(h)): NZ Legislation
New Zealand Human Rights Commission – Rights of Disabled People: HRC Website