By Carter Smith
Change in the film industry started with a mother’s love for her son.
Filmmaker Sarah Leigh had heard it all before — every excuse, every explanation and every derogatory word. As a long-time advocate for the rights and inclusion of people with disabilities, she has sat through every reasoning as to why they can’t be on film sets.
Growing up neurodivergent herself, and with ADHD, she has experienced a lack of support towards her own disability. It’s not uncommon. But that stops now. She has had enough.
Sarah has always been an activist. Throughout her career as a journalist and filmmaker, she has always gravitated towards telling stories to help fight the injustices in the world for people with disabilities.
Her own experiences had always been a driving force, but the arrival of her second son became her biggest motivator.
Sarah, now in her 40s, is a proud mother of two. Her youngest was born with high support needs and uses a wheelchair. She had always known how difficult it is for people with disabilities to live day by day, but only after his birth did she realise the severity of it.
“It’s how isolating that can become because of how inaccessible the world is. It fuelled me to try and make things better for him, but also for other people,” she says.
“It really opened my eyes to how inaccessible just getting out of the house is. People parking across dropped curbs or blocking entrances or leaving their bin across the path, and how difficult it is to manoeuvre this stuff.”
What a mother would do for her children knows no bounds. That gave Sarah the push she needed to start helping people with disabilities get onto film sets.
Since his birth, Sarah has worked closely with the NHS to help provide better healthcare for her son and people who face similar struggles. Alongside that, she started her own talent agency, Inclusivity Talent, and film company, Inclusivity Films, where, at a bare minimum, their sets are split 50/50 with people who are neurodivergent, disabled or deaf.
It’s the start to what Sarah hopes is a massive change in the industry. That’s her goal as a filmmaker — telling stories about people with disabilities, made by the people who experience them.
“Cinema has the power to make this change because if people don’t see it and don’t have representation on screen, and these stories aren’t being told, they won’t know it’s a thing,” she says.
Her story is one of action. Many people can talk a big game, but Sarah acts on it.
“It’s just the way people are with him and the way they speak to him. The things they say in front of him are disgusting… There is such a long way to go. How he is treated so differently from typical children his age and in a really derogatory way, and his life isn’t as valued as much as a typical child. It fuels my writing,” she says.
A lack of support for the disabled isn’t something new for Sarah. Growing up, she felt similar feelings. When at school, she was nicknamed “Dolly Daydream” and was left to stare out of the windows instead of being kept engaged.
School was tough for Sarah. She would often feel exhausted by the end of the day due to her masking, a conscious or subconscious trait to try and blend in with people around her.
Once she got home, it was different. She lived in a single-parent household with her mother, who understood her and created a perfect environment to accommodate her needs. “My mum was brilliant. She knew that for me, I needed my own space. I’d come home from school, and I’d go straight up to my room, and then that would be me for the rest of my night,” she says.
Those nights spent in her room in Stevenage, she would dream of being an actress. But that’s all it was to her — a dream. The industry isn’t forgiving for people growing up working class or living with disabilities. “It always felt a bit too far away and not in my reality,” she explains.
It wasn’t through lack of trying. Many nights were spent pouring drinks or serving tables in jobs to earn enough money to get to an audition. Sometimes she would have enough; other times the expenses travelling to London would be too much to manage.
The passion to tell stories hadn’t disappeared, but after a talk with a careers counsellor, she decided to pivot to journalism. Sarah went on to study journalism at college and then again at Nottingham Trent for TV Journalism. For a few years, she worked for Sky News, CNN, 5 News and even at the US Embasy in London during President Barack Obama’s term. Suffice it to say, she quickly left after a certain president took power.
It paid the bills, but the reason she joined was to tell the right stories, and she wasn’t being allowed to do that. “I was hoping to tell people’s stories and fight for injustices, but I was so controlled over what we were allowed to say and not allowed to say. I don’t want to be a part of that. So I thought, “Why don’t I follow my acting dream?” she says.
“I’ve always followed what I wanted to do. You might not be here tomorrow. So do what you want to do.”
Sarah had been auditioning and performing in films throughout her time as a journalist, but after impressing people with her writing, Sarah decided to start her talent agency and film company. The goal? To be the answer to all the excuses she had ever heard.
“If I can do 50%, then you can at least do 18%. You can make sets accessible; it doesn’t have to cost a fortune,” she says, before adding. “A lot of the time it’s like, ‘oh, where is the talent?’ and that’s why I started a crew database as well, to show people the talent. They’re here; it’s you not recruiting,” Sarah says.
When non disabled people play roles which involve disability, it’s a big issue for her. “It has to be from lived experience, and we’re seeing things just move backwards slightly in casting. They’re just not reaching out to agencies, because we are here, we have the talent,” she says.
“It’s triggering for people, and you see how it affects people when it’s not portrayed authentically. There are plenty of actors out there that do have this lived experience; they’re just not trying to even give them the chance to audition. I think it’s pretty disgusting, actually.”
Equally, it is just as crucial that disabled people get to play usual roles where their disability isn’t the only part of their character. “We’ll submit our actors regardless because we need to; it’s our job as agents to open up casting directors’ minds,” she says.
“It’s really important that it’s someone’s lived experience. But where we’re going to see real change is when it’s incidental to the plot.”
Sarah often wonders why people with disabilities are not given the opportunities. She has a few theories. “Maybe it’s to do with a bit of fear and not understanding. So many assumptions are made around disability in general, but autism, where it’s like, ‘they won’t be able to do this,’ and they are not even being given the chance to be seen. It’s scandalous, really,” she says.
The road to progress is a long one. Sarah is under no illusion that it will be a quick fix, and it especially won’t be one she can do on her own. But that doesn’t mean it’s not worth doing.
“Judith Hunman used to say, ‘Change is so slow. Bit by bit, you just have to keep doing it and keep pushing, and then one day everything will just tip in your favour, and it will work out. But, you know, bit by bit we can build on it, and I think it’s so important for me,” Sarah explains.
Every setback and every injustice has been used to fuel a working environment which thrives and is inclusive. “We’re just people that want to make films and want to do our jobs and just want that opportunity to do so,” she says.
The hope is that one day she won’t have to advertise that her company is 50/50 and that it will become the norm.
Sarah won’t stop creating. Not just because she loves it, but because it’s crucial she does so. She is helping break down the barriers of inclusion one film at a time.