Pride, Policy and Preparedness: Reflections on Inclusive Design in Disaster Risk Reduction

This Pride Month, I joined an important conversation on inclusive design in disaster risk reduction, focused on how gender and sexual minorities are recognised, represented and supported before, during and after disasters. The session was called Inclusive Design: Rethinking DRR to Include Gender and Sexual Minorities and was facilitated by Kevin Blanchard and chaired by JC. What stood out to me most was just how layered and complex the discussion really is, and how vital it is that we get this right.

The opening speakers, Roxanne and Manisha, got straight to the heart of the issue. They spoke about the challenges of defining LGBTQIA+ communities in disaster policy and how these definitions often don’t reflect the lived realities of people in different regions. For example, in places like Indonesia or Nepal, Western terminology doesn’t always apply. Identity is tied to culture, language and local understandings. So when we talk about inclusion, it cannot just be about slotting people into categories. It needs to start with listening and respect, and a willingness to work within existing community frameworks.

One idea that really stuck with me was that vulnerability is often hidden. People who are already marginalised may not be visible in mainstream planning and support systems, which makes it even harder to reach them during a crisis. And when we do engage, it is not enough to consult with just one group and assume we’ve done the work. Each identity, each experience, comes with its own needs. Inclusion means recognising difference within difference, and making sure no one is left behind.

There was also a strong message for those of us working in practice. When disaster strikes, there is rarely time to build new relationships. The time to engage, to build trust, to connect across organisations and sectors, is long before a disaster happens. This kind of groundwork allows us to share stories and experiences that show why inclusion matters. It helps shift the conversation from theory to reality.

A breakout session with Dr Ashleigh Rushton took the conversation in another important direction, focusing on masculinity and its role in disaster contexts. Her research unpacked how masculine ideals are not fixed, but socially constructed and deeply embedded in how people respond to crisis. Hegemonic masculinity, in particular, can lead men to suppress emotion, avoid seeking help and take unnecessary risks. These behaviours are often seen as strong or heroic, but the mental health costs are enormous. Her research from the Kaikōura earthquake showed how men felt pressure to stay, to fix, to be the rock. When they could not, or when they left, they were judged. The emotional fallout was devastating.

We were reminded again that gender is not only about women. Most disaster research and policy talks about “gender and women” which unintentionally leaves men and gender-diverse people out of the picture. To be effective, disaster risk reduction must take a broader and more inclusive view of gender.

Later, Raymond Duijsens and Lee Dibbens added another layer, speaking about how structural exclusion plays out for LGBTQIA+ communities. Legal barriers, lack of documentation, discrimination and unsafe environments make it harder for many people to access services or even be counted in planning. Funding is limited and inconsistent, and while policy may exist on paper, the translation into meaningful action is still rare.

With the global rollback of queer and minority rights in many places, now more than ever we need stronger collaboration across movements. We cannot afford to silo this work. The systems that fail people in disasters are often the same ones that fail them every day.

This session reminded me that inclusion is not just a checkbox or a principle to aspire to. It is a practice. It is something that must be done intentionally and early. And it is something that must be done together.

Pride Month is a good time to celebrate how far we have come, but also to reflect on where we are still falling short. If we want to build safer, more resilient communities, we need to centre the voices and experiences of those most often overlooked.