This July, OCS has partnered with Scope to support and amplify Disability Pride Month – a meaningful step in OCS’s ongoing journey toward greater visibility, understanding, and the inclusive recruitment of people with disabilities in the workplace and beyond.
But this work is not new to everyone in the business. For Sarah Williams, Chief People Officer for the UK & Ireland, inclusion is not simply a professional responsibility – it’s personal. Sarah brings lived experience as the parent of a disabled child, and her perspective continues to shape the way OCS approaches accessibility, equity and culture.
We sat down with Sarah to hear her story – and to understand how her journey, both as a mother and a leader, is helping OCS build a more inclusive future.
Sarah, tell us a bit about your daughter – how has she shaped family life for you?
My daughter is neurodiverse and lives with autism, Oppositional Defiant Disorder, a learning disability, and global developmental delay. She’s registered disabled and has a rare condition called brachydactyly type B.
What that means for us is that life is different. It requires a different pace, a different kind of energy, and a different type of preparation. My husband and I have had to learn a great deal – not just formally, through training, but also the realities of day-to-day life. We’ve been trained in how to support communication, how to de-escalate situations, and how to interpret behaviours. However, most of it is simply about living and adapting to life.
We’ve had to learn how to advocate for her in systems that weren’t designed with her in mind – this includes education, healthcare, and everyday activities such as shopping, travelling, or accessing public services. Sometimes people don’t see the need straight away – because not every disability is visible. But we live it. And that gives you a very different perspective on what inclusion means.
How has that experience shaped the way you understand people – both inside and outside of work?
It’s made me see people in a very different light. I think I’ve become more patient, more understanding. You start to realise that everyone has their way of experiencing the world. What works for one person might not work for another – and that doesn’t make either of them wrong.
You also become more aware of judgment – how quickly people can make assumptions when they don’t understand what they’re seeing. Whether that’s a child struggling in a loud environment, or someone reacting strongly to a change in routine, the outside world often sees that as misbehaviour. But it’s not. It’s about people trying to manage in an environment that’s not built for their needs.
That awareness changes you. It doesn’t just affect how you see your child – it affects how you see everyone.