Before You Produce Little Big Things, Please Think About This
Like many people in the theatre industry, I have been incredibly excited to see the performance rights for Little BigThings become available.
It is wonderful to see a musical centred around a disabled person's story reaching more stages and more audiences. For so long, disabled people have been underrepresented in theatre, particularly in stories that allow us to be fully human rather than simply inspirational figures or plot devices.
As a disabled theatre maker, I am proud to see a show like this being embraced by so many companies.
But I am also worried.
I am worried that some companies will see the message of the show without fully considering the responsibility that comes with telling it. A musical about disability should never become an excuse to overlook disabled people in the creative process. If we want disability inclusion to become the norm in theatre, and I truly believe it should, then inclusion has to start long before an audience takes their seat. It has to begin in rehearsal rooms, production meetings, auditions, creative teams, and leadership positions.
It has to start from the inside and work outwards.
One of the things I find most frustrating is that disability is still often viewed through a very narrow lens. When people think about disability, they often picture a wheelchair user or someone with a visible physical impairment.
The reality is so much bigger than that.
Disability can be physical, sensory, neurological, cognitive, chronic, visible, invisible, permanent, fluctuating, or a combination of many different experiences. No one disabled person represents every disabled person, which is exactly why disabled voices need to be part of the conversation.
The more perspectives we include, the richer and more authentic our work becomes.
When I see companies announcing productions of disability centred work, my first thought is not who is playing the lead role. My first thought is whether disabled people have been involved in the process at all.
Who is in the room making decisions?
Who is shaping the conversations?
Who is being listened to?
Who is being given opportunities?
Because representation is about far more than what audiences see on stage.
I believe there are many companies with genuinely good intentions. I do not think most people deliberately exclude disabled artists. However, good intentions on their own are not enough. If a company wants to tell a story rooted in disability, there should be a commitment to engaging with disabled performers, disabled creatives, and disabled communities. There should be a willingness to listen, learn, adapt, and sometimes challenge existing ways of working.
Authenticity does not happen by accident. It happens because people make a conscious choice to create space for disabled artists and value what they bring. I often hear people talk about inclusion as though it is something extra. Something that can be added once everything else has been planned. For me, inclusion should be the foundation. It should be built into every decision from the very beginning.
Theatre is at its best when it reflects the world around us. Disabled people are part of that world. We always have been. So if your company is considering producing Little Big Things, I would encourage you to think beyond the script itself.
Ask yourself who is involved in telling the story.
Ask yourself whether disabled artists are being welcomed into the room.
Ask yourself whether your processes are genuinely accessible.
Most importantly, ask yourself whether your commitment to disability inclusion exists beyond this one production.
Because what excites me most is not the idea of more productions of Little Big Things.
What excites me is the possibility that productions of Little Big Things could encourage lasting change throughout our industry.
The show's message is powerful. There is no doubt about that. Now it is our responsibility to make sure that we are living that message too.