Last June, something rare happened in Albany.
In a time of deep division, the New York State Assembly came together unanimously around a simple idea: every person deserves a way to communicate.
The Communication Bill of Rights for People with Disabilities (A7363C) was not controversial when lawmakers listened to the people most affected. Families, self-advocates, and practitioners all made the same point: nonspeaking individuals are not voiceless—they are unheard.
And when they are given access to communication, they show us exactly who they are.
That clarity is why the bill passed unanimously.
And it is why what is happening now should concern every New Yorker.
In the months since that vote, the bill has come under increasing pressure to be weakened—not by families or frontline workers, but by institutions uncomfortable with what it represents: a shift in power toward the people they serve.
We write from two different vantage points, but we see the same reality.
One of us is a nonspeaking advocate who types to communicate. The other is a union leader and direct service provider within NY State’s Disability System.
From both perspectives, the conclusion is the same:
Communication is fundamental.
For individuals, it is the difference between being understood or ignored—between being able to say “I’m in pain” or having no way to be heard.
For workers, it is the difference between doing their jobs safely and effectively—or being placed in situations that are unpredictable, escalating, and sometimes dangerous.
When people cannot communicate, systems do not become safer. They become more volatile.
Frontline workers know this. They live it.
They know what happens when frustration builds without an outlet. When needs cannot be expressed. When a situation escalates—not because of intent, but because of a lack of communication.
They know what it means to be standing in the line of fire.
When a large individual cannot communicate distress or needs effectively, that frustration does not disappear—it manifests. And too often, it is the worker—frequently a woman, often smaller in size—who is left to absorb the consequences.
This is not a hypothetical. It is a daily reality in under-resourced systems across New York.
And yet, the current debate in Albany has been framed around the idea that expanding access to communication somehow introduces “risk.”
From where we sit, that argument is not just wrong—it is backwards.
Limiting communication is the risk.
It increases the likelihood of crisis. It reduces the ability to de-escalate. It forces workers to rely on guesswork instead of understanding.
It is harder to imagine a more avoidable failure.
The version of the bill passed by the Assembly recognized that reality. It took a practical, balanced approach—protecting access to communication without dictating a single method, and ensuring that decisions remain individualized.
It reflected what both families and frontline workers already understand: there is no one-size-fits-all path to communication.
The amendments now being proposed move in the opposite direction. By introducing restrictive language and narrowing what counts as acceptable communication, they risk excluding the very people this bill was meant to protect.
It also raises a deeper question: who gets to decide whose voice counts?
When institutions define communication so that it excludes people who are clearly expressing meaning, the result is not better policy. It is enforced silence.
Workers see this contradiction every day.
They are asked to provide person-centered care while operating within systems that limit a person’s ability to express themselves. They are told to prioritize safety, while being denied one of the most effective tools that makes safety possible.
That contradiction is not sustainable—for workers or for the people they serve.
New York has an opportunity to lead—not just symbolically, but practically.
The Assembly already did its job. A unanimous vote is not an accident. It reflects careful consideration, collaboration, and a shared recognition that this is a civil rights issue.
Reaffirming that position matters.
It tells families that their voices are not conditional. It tells workers that their experience is real. And it tells the country that New York is willing to stand behind the principle that communication is a fundamental human right.
Walking that back would send a very different message.
It would suggest that even when something is clearly right—and clearly supported—it can still be undone by pressure from systems more focused on preserving control than improving outcomes.
We believe New York can do better.
We believe lawmakers can return to what made this bill successful in the first place: listening to the people most affected—and trusting what they are telling us.
Because they are telling us something simple, urgent, and undeniable:
Communication is not a privilege.
It is a right.
And it is time to protect it.
———
Elizabeth Bonker is the Founder and Executive Director of Communication 4 ALL.
Marisa McClinton is a union leader and direct service provider within New York State’s disability system. Views expressed are her own. She is a candidate for the Ulster County Legislature.
The post Communication Is a Civil Right — And Workers Know It Too appeared first on EMPIRE REPORT NEW YORK 2026® NEW YORK’S 24/7 NEWS SITE.
