Inclusion Is Not One Thing: A Model for Building More Responsive Museum Experiences

What does inclusion actually look like in a museum?

That question often sounds simple, but in practice it is anything but. Inclusion is not a single policy, one sensory-friendly event, or a short list of accommodations that can be checked off and considered complete. It is an ongoing process of noticing who is well served by our spaces, who is not, and what changes are needed to make participation more possible, more comfortable, and more meaningful for a wider range of visitors.

The inclusion model developed through this work is meant to help museums think more clearly about that process. At its core, the model defines inclusion as the practice of improving the conditions that allow individuals and groups to participate fully in educational, social, cultural, and community life. It recognizes that people do not all enter museum spaces on equal terms, and that real inclusion requires access, opportunity, and resources that are responsive to different needs and abilities. It also recognizes something equally important: inclusion is not a destination. It continues to evolve as communities, institutions, and understandings change.

This model builds on Shelley Moore’s framework of the evolution of inclusion, but it adapts that thinking for museum practice in a way that feels especially useful. Rather than treating museum offerings as if they fall neatly along a ranked progression, the model asks us to see them as part of a cumulative and dynamic visitor experience. A museum may have some practices that are highly targeted, others that are more shared, and still others that are embedded throughout the organization. All of these may matter. The goal is not simply to move from “less inclusive” to “more inclusive” in a straight line. The goal is to understand what each strategy does, who it serves, and how different approaches can work together to support visitors well.

The model describes three inclusion ranges: Separate Autism-Friendly, Integrated Autism-Friendly, and Organization-Wide.

The first range, Separate Autism-Friendly, includes programs or accommodations designed specifically for visitors with autism spectrum disorder andor sensory processing needs. These offerings often create spaces where visitors and families can participate without feeling singled out or pressured to adapt to typical museum expectations. They may reduce crowding, noise, or uncertainty, and they can help build a sense of community among participants who share similar experiences. This kind of offering can be especially valuable because it reduces self-consciousness and isolation. It can communicate, very directly, that a museum is trying to make room for visitors who are often underserved.

At the same time, the model invites museums to think carefully about the language and assumptions built into these offerings. Who is being named? Who is being left out? Are programs designed only for autistic visitors when others might also benefit from the same supports? Separate autism-friendly efforts can be important and necessary, but the model encourages museums to treat them as one part of a broader inclusion strategy rather than the endpoint.

The second range, Integrated Autism-Friendly, reflects accommodations that are available during regular operating hours and are especially welcoming to visitors with autism or other disabilities, while also remaining open to others. In these spaces, interaction among people with different needs, preferences, and abilities is expected. This range matters because it helps visitors with ASD navigate museum experiences within the regular rhythms of museum life, rather than only through separate events or special access times. It can build familiarity, confidence, and a stronger sense of belonging in shared public space.

This middle range is especially useful because it pushes museums to think beyond eitheror choices. Inclusion is not only about creating separate protected spaces, and it is not only about assuming everyone should participate in exactly the same way. Integrated autism-friendly practices sit in the middle, offering support while still making room for shared participation. They acknowledge that many visitors benefit from accommodations, even if they do not identify in the same way or have the same support needs.

The third range, Organization-Wide, represents a deeper level of institutional change. Here, accommodations are not treated as add-ons or special features. They are embedded into the museum’s culture, design, visitor experience, and everyday operations. Language about the audience becomes broader and more welcoming, often referring to “all visitors” or simply making supports available without requiring people to identify themselves in order to use them. The purpose of this range is powerful: it communicates that any visitor can use accommodations as needed and that doing so is a normal, accepted part of being in the museum.

This range points toward a version of inclusion that is woven into the fabric of the institution. It suggests that inclusion is strongest when visitors do not have to work so hard to ask for what they need, explain themselves, or wonder whether supports are really meant for them. Instead, the museum signals from the start that comfort, access, and flexibility are part of the experience.

Importantly, this model is not only about broad philosophy. It is also practical. It asks museums to examine how inclusion shows up across multiple parts of the visitor experience, including audience language, visitor guides and preparatory materials, physical access supports, social access, and professional development. That is one of the model’s greatest strengths. It recognizes that inclusion is shaped not only by exhibits, but by words, expectations, staff practices, sensory conditions, planning tools, and the many small cues that tell visitors whether a space was designed with them in mind.

The guiding questions built into the model are equally important. They prompt museum professionals to ask not just whether an accommodation exists, but what it is doing. Who benefits from it? Could others benefit too? Should it remain targeted, become more integrated, or be made available more broadly? Does the language used to describe it reflect respect and clarity? Are there reasons to preserve separate spaces in some situations while expanding access in others? These are not checklist questions. They are reflective questions, designed to help museums become more intentional and more responsive.

That, ultimately, is what makes this inclusion model so valuable. It gives museums a way to move beyond vague commitments to inclusion and toward a more thoughtful understanding of how inclusion actually works. It does not pretend there is one perfect answer. Instead, it offers a framework for making better decisions, asking better questions, and designing experiences that are more adaptive to the real variety of people who walk through museum doors.

Inclusion is not a finished state a museum arrives at and then leaves alone. It is ongoing, relational, and shaped by practice. This model helps make that work visible. More importantly, it helps make that work possible.