Rethinking What Inclusive Facilitation Looks Like: When No One Has to Mask
By Nadia Afreen
At a gala for speakers, Samantha needed a break. There was no designated quiet space, so she found a spot in the lobby, closed her eyes, and sat for a moment. It didn’t take long before a couple of people came over to ask if she was okay.
This is a familiar situation for her. “People might think there’s something wrong with me because I need quiet time,” she says.
That small moment points at something bigger that facilitators don’t always think about: what happens when the room itself makes it harder for people to participate?
Based in Castlemaine in Central Victoria, Samantha Wittenberg works with parents and carers of neurodivergent children through one-on-one coaching, group processes and workshops. Her work is also deeply personal. Her adult daughter is autistic, and a period of feeling alone and confused about what was happening motivated Samantha to create the kind of community she once needed herself.
In conversations with Carolyn Smith on the IAF Oceania Podcast, Samantha talks about what it actually takes to create spaces where people don’t have to hide parts of themselves just to be there.
For a lot of neurodivergent people, that hiding has a name: masking. It means suppressing natural behaviours, ways of communicating or regulating in order to meet other people’s expectations. It also means navigating different sensory loads, and it often comes at a cost.
“We’re not respecting our differences, our different neurological and nervous system needs,” Samantha says, describing how constantly pushing through can lead straight to burnout and exhaustion.
For facilitators, that is crucial. If someone is using their energy to manage overwhelming sound, fragrance, visual clutter or the pressure to behave in a particular way, there is less energy left over for actually listening, contributing, or connecting with people in the room.
Samantha has experienced this herself. On a crowded train once, a strong artificial perfume became physically painful, and there was nowhere to move to escape it. She sees similar instances play out in facilitation settings, where sensory distractions quietly prevent people from engaging with what is being presented.
Her approach is a practical one. Samantha guides facilitators toward the SERVICE principle to help create more neurodivergent-inclusive spaces, and it all starts with sensory considerations: the volume and quality of sound, fragrance, visual stimulation and the overall environment.
It comes down to the small, specific details. Sound should be clearly audible without becoming overwhelming. Artificial fragrances can be genuinely painful for some people, and a visually cluttered room can add another layer of information for someone to process before they’ve even started listening.
Sometimes inclusion simply means giving people permission to step away.
Samantha recommends quiet zones or low-sensory spaces near the main activity, somewhere people can take time to recharge and then rejoin the group without feeling excluded. Clear signage can make those spaces easier to find, and letting participants know upfront about available accessibility options gives them greater choice over how they engage.
“They can pop in there and pop back, and they still feel included,” she says.
A space that allows people to regulate without disconnecting is an idea she’s had for a long time, in one form or another. As a kid, she used to imagine everyone at school having their own "pod," some place insulated from the noise where they could rest, work, and step in and out of the wider environment as they needed.
It sounds like a simple idea, but it captures something bigger about what inclusive facilitation actually means. People need connection, but not necessarily the same amount of stimulation or interaction all the time.
“We want to be able to have more or less of that without being rejected or completely separated and cut off.”
With neurodivergent people in mind, that balance between connection and choice is especially relevant to the IAF Oceania Conference 2026 in Geelong, Australia. For facilitators, the bigger lesson may be that participation doesn’t have to look the same for everyone in the room. An inclusive space isn’t necessarily one where everyone behaves, listens or interacts the same way. It’s one designed with enough awareness and flexibility for people to show up as themselves.
And perhaps that is the simplest way to create a space where no one has to mask.
Listen to the full conversations
These ideas are explored in greater depth across two episodes of the IAF Oceania Podcast, featuring conversations between Samantha and Carolyn. Listen to the full episodes to hear Samantha unpack neurodivergent processing, masking, sensory design, supporting carers, and the SERVICE principle in her own words.
About the SERVICE Principle
The SERVICE principle was funded and developed by researchers and autism advocates from the University of Wollongong, alongside project partners South Coast School and the Corrimal Chamber of Commerce.
The team is multidisciplinary and involves researchers and community partners:
Project Lead: Dr Sim Lau, School of Computing and Information Technology
UOW Partner: Dr Pippa Burns, Lecturer, Research and Critical Analysis, School of Medicine, University of Wollongong
Community Partners: Dr Andrea Garner, School of Education, University of Wollongong, South Coast School and Paul Boultwood, Corrimal Chamber of Commerce
Learn more at autismfriendlycommunities.com/principles and autismfriendlycommunities.com/about
*The IAF Oceania Conference 2026 takes place from 14-16 October at Deakin University Waterfront Campus, Geelong, Australia. For more information and to register, visit https://www.facilitationinaction.com.au
Come to Geelong, explore these ideas in practice, and be part of the wider facilitation conversation.