Celebrating AAC Awareness Month: Redefining Communication at Work

When most people imagine communication at work, they picture quick chats by the coffee machine, a spontaneous idea shared during a team meeting, or at flurry of Slack messages. But for some, speech isn’t the primary way they connect with colleagues. They instead, rely on augmentative and alternative communication, AAC for short, a wide range of tools and strategies that support or replace spoken language.

AAC is not a new concept, but it is becoming increasingly visible. Thanks to evolving technology and more inclusive workplaces, people who communicate differently are proving that professional success is not tied to one “right” way of talking. From iPad apps to eye-tracking devices, from low-tech boards to text-based platforms, AAC tools are redefining what communication at work can look like.

AAC is not just a tool, it is a bridge to being understood fully; without trimming yourself down to fit the limitations of speech. For some, that looks like using a speech-generating device, a tablet with a communication app, or an eye-gaze system. For others, it’s as simple as typing in Slack or sharing thoughts in Google Docs, instead of speaking during a meeting. The tools vary, but the goal is the same: to be heard on your own terms.

3 Mini Case Studies:

One person who understands this well is Jill Clark, a writer and filmmaker with cerebral palsy who works for BBC The Social. Jill uses a communication device called the Accent 100 with a tracker dot mounted on her head, which allows her to access her words. She’s spoken openly about the extra time she needs when working on scripts, not just for writing them, but also for programming them into her device so she can share them aloud. She has learned to tell people early on, even in interviews, that she uses a communication device and will need additional time. Instead of holding her back, this has become part of her process, a way of ensuring that people understand what she brings to the table. Her story is a reminder that preparation and pacing are not flaws but strengths, ways of shaping communication that make space for thoughtfulness.

The reality, of course, is that communication through AAC doesn’t always feel seamless. Lance McLemore, an AAC user from Ohio who uses LAMP Words for Life, (an App designed for individuals with complex communication needs) has shared the frustrations he experienced before discovering AAC. With verbal speech, he often found himself repeating and clarifying, trying again and again to make people understand. That cycle was exhausting and demoralizing. But with AAC, he found a kind of relief; words came across clearly the first time, reducing the frustration of constant repetition. Lance’s story resonates deeply with me. I know what it feels like to have thoughts stuck behind the barrier of speech, to feel as if my intelligence or complexity is being lost in the static of unclear words. Writing gives me a way out of that, and for many, AAC offers the same liberation: the chance to finally be understood as you are, without trimming yourself down.

Then there are people like Euan Macdonald, who was diagnosed with motor neuron disease (MND) and turned to eye-gaze technology for controlling communication devices to continue working, advocating, and leading. Euan co-founded Euan’s Guide, a charity that publishes reviews on disabled access, and he uses his communication device to write emails, attend meetings, and communicate in both personal and professional settings. His work demonstrates not only that AAC can enable someone to continue participating but also that it can sustain leadership, advocacy, and influence at the highest levels. Euan’s story underscores a truth that workplaces sometimes forget: the value of a contribution is not in how quickly it’s spoken, but in the weight and meaning of the ideas themselves.

Stories like Jill’s, Lance’s, and Euan’s show the spectrum of AAC in action. They remind us that communication at work doesn’t need to look the same for everyone. Some people prepare phrases in advance, others type on the spot, others write into shared documents while colleagues watch, and others use eye-gaze to keep up with the flow of a fast-moving meeting. What unites all these approaches is the determination to make one’s voice heard, not despite differences, but through them.

Barriers & Fixes:

Despite progress, barriers remain. The fast pace of many workplaces can put pressure on AAC users to respond instantly, even when typing or eye-gaze systems take more time. Software may not integrate easily with AAC devices, leaving workers struggling to access them. And stigma still lingers; people sometimes underestimate someone’s intelligence or ability because their communication looks different. These obstacles are not insurmountable, but they do require a cultural shift. Meetings can be structured with pauses; agendas can be shared ahead of time; workplaces can normalize multiple channels of communication so that AAC feels less like an exception and more like an ordinary part of how people connect.

And when workplaces make those changes, the benefits ripple outward. Colleagues often describe learning to listen more deeply when AAC is part of the conversation. One manager explained that they stopped equating speed with intelligence. Another noted that conversations felt less rushed, with more room for everyone to think before speaking. Inclusion doesn’t only make work possible for AAC users, it makes work better for everyone.

Most workplaces already use multiple channels, emails, chat apps, shared documents, and video calls. AAC is simply another piece of that puzzle. When it is welcomed and valued, it doesn’t set someone apart; it brings them fully into the circle. Whether it’s Jill programming her scripts into a device, Lance finding relief in being understood through AAC, or Euan using eye-gaze technology to continue leading and advocating, their stories show that what matters most at work isn’t how we speak, it’s what we contribute.

Ending Remarks from Author:

For me, these conversations about AAC always feel personal. I know the weight of judgment that can come with sounding different. I have felt the way people’s faces change the moment I open my mouth, the way their first impression of me is shaped not by what I’m saying but by how I’m saying it. I hate how my speech sometimes feels like it holds me back, like there’s a wall between the thoughts in my head and the words I want to share. It can feel like my ideas shrink as I speak on them, never quite capturing their full depth. That’s why I turn to writing. On the page, there’s no hesitation, no simplification, no compromise. I never have to avoid a word or pick an easier synonym just because I can’t pronounce it clearly. Writing gives me freedom to show the full scope of my vocabulary, my nuance, my voice.

I often think about how much of my own identity is tied up in these questions of communication. There are times when I fear my speech will always be the first thing people notice about me, overshadowing everything else. It can make me hesitant to speak at all, even when I have something important to contribute. And yet, when I write, that fear dissolves. I can use the full vocabulary I want, paint with every shade of meaning, and trust that people will meet my words as they are. That’s why AAC feels so powerful to me, not because it erases difference, but because it makes space for it. It allows people to show the richness of their thoughts without trimming them down to what can be spoken easily.

And that, at the end of the day, is what I hold onto. Because communication, whether through speech, writing, or AAC, isn’t about perfection. It’s about connection. It’s about being heard. And when every voice is included, workplaces don’t just function better, they thrive

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