I will gladly join the fight

[Image Description: Maura, a white female with long, wavy highlighted brown hair, smiles, and stands in front of a blurry Detroit alleyway with a colorful, abstract shirt that reads “Accessibility isn’t Optional”.]

Over the course of my ten years in education, I have often come back to the same thought: “There has to be a better way”.

I remember loving elementary school: the friends, the books, the school supplies. Even having homework excited me because it would show how truly responsible I was - just like the girls in the sitcoms I grew up watching. It was also the first time that I felt a sense of independence and commitment to my inherent values, however undeveloped they were at the time. In some ways, I’ve been searching for somewhere I belong ever since.

When I was diagnosed with ADHD in the spring of this year, I was forced to reflect on many of my experiences between then and now. After my elementary years, school became just a place I had to go to five days a week. I passed classes, but never particularly excelled; maintained friendships, while always feeling just a little bit outside of the group; participated in extracurriculars, and had an easy time deciding to quit each one. I tried out for flag line and musicals, but my nerves overtook me each audition and I never made it. (I must also acknowledge my white privilege where, despite a mediocre performance and approach to school, I was able to go to college and obtain an undergraduate degree without much thought).

Now, as an educator, I have seen how educational spaces are created for compliance and a very particular view of success. Had I known of my neurodivergence earlier, what accommodations might I have been provided to shape some of these formative experiences? What alternative types of learning opportunities might have been more motivating or engaging to me? Would I have felt like I belonged then? Now?

Within the “Special” Education system, the focus is primarily placed on how to “help the student fit in” or “meet typical standards” (…and these are just the students who have been adequately evaluated and determined eligible). Priority is placed on whether students can complete/comply/process/navigate/produce independently. It’s their problem, not ours. Realistically, though, we all need each other, don’t we? For everything from roads to relationships to be maintained? This is where my reoccurring thought comes in: “There has to be a better way.”

In this new venture, I will be able to pursue my vision of making public resources, especially education, more restorative, accessible, and inclusive for all. In fewer words, better. I hope to reimagine a system of community care that works for all members, ensures that they know they belong, and has the power to benefit not just people with disabilities, but everyone.