#ReliefFund - Why it is SO Important to our Families

What is the Kinera Foundation Relief Fund?

As you know, we received that important letter from the IRS, determining Kinera Foundation a 501(c)(3) Public Charity, last week. I am still riding on that high!! This is so important to our Foundation because it will allow us to accept donations, or in IRS Terms "bequests, devises, transfers, or gifts", all tax deductible.

In celebration we are hosting our very first fundraiser, The Kinera Foundation Inaugural Virtual 5K. All proceeds from this event will benefit the Kinera Foundation Relief Fund.

I wanted to take a moment to explain why the Relief Fund is so important. When C was diagnosed, it took what seemed like an eternity to #1 understand how to go about seeking services for him, and #2 get him in for an appointment. Having a child with special needs changes the way providers bill insurance, and what may not have been a covered cost pre-diagnosis now is, BUT you have to figure that out, through a lot of trial and error and many denials from insurance. Then once you have the insurance thing figured out, you have to wait for an appointment to open up. Many of the specialists we were referred to, had 6-18 month wait lists. AND, that is only if your child has a diagnosis with a billable code, that any of this even applies. I have met more families than are on my two hands, who don't have a primary diagnosis that qualifies them for Habilitative (Speech, Occupational, or Applied Behavior Analysis Therapies) and other services/ treatments, and therefore they must pay out of pocket.

The year that C was diagnosed, our family spent close to $15,000 out of pocket in medical expenses. We pay for our health insurance out of pocket because Kell is self-employed. Our health insurance has a high deductible, so when I would get approval from the provider and our insurance that a service was covered, I would not pay for the appointment at the time of service. I knew that we had the deductible, and would request to make a payment up front, to reduce the cost of the bill, but was many times denied because of the way the provider's billing system worked. 30 days later we would receive bills for $1200, $1600, $750, etc. and they would be due in 30 days. Seeing the bills pile up and trying to figure out how we would pay was overwhelming. In years prior, our deductible was spread out over the year. These bills all came due within a matter of 60 days. Very few families can financially make this work.

When we started our strategic planning for Kinera Foundation, this was an area I wanted to address. They say that you really can't financially plan for a child - you just make it work, but it becomes more difficult to "just make it work", when that child has a significant health care need. I had a mother of a child without a billable primary diagnosis tell me that she paid $13,000 out of pocket for genetic testing to be done, in hopes that they could determine a better diagnosis for her daughter. ONE TEST - $13,000!!

The Relief Fund was established to help families under financial stress - I can't name a single family, regardless of income, who has a child with a special need, and does not stress about financial stability. In addition, when you are putting this kind of money out to help your child with a special need, discretionary funds fall short. What about the siblings? I have heard stories of parents having to choose therapy over recreational activities for their typically developing child. It is a terrible position to be in - we have been there. The look of disappointment and resentment leaves a heavy cloud of guilt on your conscience. 

There is an application process for the Relief Fund, we do not just hand money out to anyone requesting it. In fact, I am very proud of the application process. We release the grant quarterly, and the funding per quarter is based on the funds raised in the  previous quarter. Funds are paid directly to the vendor or service provider, to ensure the money is being spent for which it was allocated. We have a committee of 3 fabulous community members who report to the Committee Chair, a member of the Kinera Foundation Board of Directors. The Relief Fund Committee has no ties to the Board of Directors, or the Special Needs Community, and therefore is a non-partial entity.

Applicants can apply for the grant to cover many services, including:

Speech Therapy - Costs not covered by Insurance
Occupational Therapy - Costs not covered by Insurance
ABA - Costs not covered by Insurance
Hippotherapy - Costs not covered by Insurance
Therapeutic Riding
Advocacy
Medical Devices - Wheelchairs, ramps,  braces,etc. - Costs not covered by Insurance
Assistive Technology - Costs not covered by Insurance
Physical Therapy - Costs not covered by Insurance
Behavioral Consults
Camps
Social Activities
Emergency Funding, i.e. rent relief, electricity - With proof of financial hardship

Why am I giving you this information?

There are so many families struggling, so many who do not qualify for assistance, but need help. There is a gap that needs to be filled, and we want to help fill that gap. Families who's annual salaries are too great to qualify for help, but still struggle financially, families who don't have a diagnosis which covers the therapies and services their child desperately needs, families who have to choose treatment for one child over recreation for another... These families need help, and have very few resources to turn to.

By supporting Kinera Foundation, by running for a cause, or simply making a donation of your choosing, you are making a direct and positive impact on a family in your community. When we say ALL proceeds from the Kinera Foundation Inaugural Virtual 5K benefit the Relief Fund - we mean ALL. We chose a virtual race because the overhead and planning costs are minimal, allowing us to ensure maximum funding for our grant.

While it is Autism Awareness Month, I don't ask you to run to raise awareness. I ask you to run on behalf of the kid next door with ADHD, your cousin with Intellectual Disability, the child in your son's class with Epilepsy, and the little girl who doesn't have a diagnosis, but has significant delays and medical needs.

For more information on the Kinera Foundation Virtual 5K, or to register:www.kinera.org/virtual-5k.html
To Donate: www.kinera.org
To learn more about the Relief Fund and how you can help: Christy@Kinera.org

Autism Awareness Month

Why we need so much more than awareness

This morning, as part of our Autism Awareness Month Household Initiative, I asked A and O "What does Autism mean to you?"

A answered, "Autism means being unique."
O had a more difficult time. He first said "Autism is a brain disorder", which in simple terms is accurate. Then he said, "Well Autism can be annoying".
A truthful response and there are times where I couldn't agree more, so I prompted him for more information.
"Well", he said, "sometimes I don't want to do what C wants to do, but he won't stop talking about what he wants to do".
To which I responded, "That sounds like C just being a little brother... don't you do the same to A?"
Then he said, "Well, it's annoying because he wakes up really early and wakes me up".
"Hmmm, sounds like that is just part of who he is, not his Autism".
"I like playing with C -  and he is funny".
Again, I said "Sounds like that is his personality. You know O, it sounds like you've got it all right, and I am proud of you".
O, of course looked at me like I had 10 heads. He thought he failed miserably, but the reality is, everything he listed wasn't about Autism. It was all about C, and who C is - Not how Autism defines him. 

I think those of us who know Autism first hand also know that it is not just awareness that we are looking for, we want acceptance, we want understanding, we want the stereotypes to end. Autism is not the same for everyone. It is a Spectrum Disorder, it doesn't have a defining "look", it comes in all ages, shapes and sizes. It affects each person differently. C speaks, he smiles, he laughs, he tells jokes. His jerky movements and flapping hands indicate his happiness. His persistence is admirable, his opinion is always known. Some of these traits are not Autism at all, in fact they are more likely just part of his personality. His Autism isn't his defining trait, it is just a trait, like brown eyes, brown hair, long legs, and eyelashes that reach to the tops of his eyebrows.

This month is not just about "lighting it up blue", it is not just about spreading awareness, it is about acknowledging that people with Autism are just that - PEOPLE with Autism. They deserve the same respect, same dignity, same opportunity as you. I ask that during the month of April, you seek an opportunity to change your point of view, and try to understand Autism, from the perspective of someone with Autism. There are so many books, blogs, and articles highlighting these amazing self advocates, and I promise you - it is life altering. Here is a list of some of my favorites:
Carly's Voice
The Reason I Jump
Anything by John Elder Robison
10 Things Every Child with Autism Wishes You Knew
The Out of Sync Child
Anything by Temple Grandin


We have termed those without Autism as NeuroTypicals... we all have labels. Black, White, Hispanic, Teacher, Student, Wife, Mother, Husband, Brother - but none of those are what define us - they are just adjectives, and when we put all of our adjectives together, we hope that we can encompass the person we are striving to be. Why isn't this what we do for our friends with Autism? Why must that one thing define them? Why must it have a negative connotation? I think that most with Autism feel that they wouldn't be themselves without Autism as one of their descriptive words, but they also wouldn't list it as the one adjective that defines them.

So I ask of you, as you are out and about during the month of April, don't just allow your thoughts to veer towards Autism Awareness, allow yourself to look at all of the other positive traits that help define the person. Help others understand the value that the Autistic Community brings to the greater community. Create accessible opportunities. Understand  barriers and allow for creative thinking to ensure that those with Autism have the chance to participate in a dignified way. Remember "FAIR isn't everyone getting the same thing, FAIR is everyone getting what they need in order to be successful." And don't forget the caregivers. Sometimes we are run down, out of patience, and frankly - lonely. Let us know that even on the worst days we are making a difference, we matter, and that you care.

To Vaccinate or Not To Vaccinate, Is That A Question?

Autism and vaccinations, why we chose the path we did. 

I don't think that any experience in life can prepare you for the overwhelming sense of hopelessness you feel when you find out that your child has - something. As a parent, you have a myriad of experiences where you feel out of control, that the circumstances are beyond your fixing. There is fear, there is the heart wrenching, stomach dropping panic. Then there is this moment where you go into information seeking, problem solving, protective parent mode. You search for the source of the problem, and by human nature, you seek to fix what is wrong. All the while there is this voice, slightly muted, allowing you to take in everything around you, but still there, whispering "what could you have done to prevent this situation"?

When C was diagnosed, it took a long time to get through all of the emotions. I went through the denial stage for almost a full year. I knew that something was different with C, before he was diagnosed. I brought it to the pediatrician's attention. He is the youngest of our three boys. He is cute, and everyone did, and will sometimes still do, anything for him. His language was delayed - but that was attributed to everyone talking for him. His gross motor skills were lacking, but that was attributed to everyone carrying him, not giving him the opportunity to jump, run, skip. His social skills were delayed, but that was attributed to him not having enough access to other children, to his brothers being more advanced and not including him enough. We worked for a year to bring him up to speed, but by 3, it was clear that he was falling further and further behind. That is when we were handed the life altering news - C has Autism.

We were mad. We were mad at the pediatrician for delivering the news. We were mad at the school system for not working fast enough to confirm the diagnosis, and then mad that they were slow to develop the IEP. We were mad that we didn't have enough resources. We were mad that we didn't feel like we had support. We were mad at ourselves. Somehow we didn't do enough. We should have reacted sooner.

Then we went into our problem solving mode. Kell knew it would be better. We would get him enrolled in school, we would do whatever it took to "fix" it. I went into research mode. I looked at every possible cause of Autism, searched the internet, tried to locate support groups, blogs, message boards. We formed Kinera Foundation. All the while I searched for causes, cures, recovery stories. I found the medical journal published by Andrew Wakefield. Coming from an upbringing that was holistic, and not reliant on medical intervention, this paper seemed to speak to me. C was a normal baby - quiet, happy, loving. And then it all started to go down-hill, slowly. I remember him saying baba, dada, and then there was a point where he just stopped. Was it all linked to his vaccinations? Was I to blame?

I found this paper as the reports of misconduct and false findings were coming to light. It was confusing. I spoke with many parents of children on the Spectrum who fully believed the study. I checked out Jenny McCarthy's book about her son recovering. I wanted to "fix" my baby. I wanted to find out why - Why C, why was he handed this stack of cards. It all seemed so unfair. And I felt like I was drowning in information, drowning in guilt, drowning in a process that I knew nothing about. I felt helpless. I felt like there was no way out, and I so desperately wanted to make it right. It is my job to protect my children, and somehow I failed.

During this time, we were in and out of doctor's offices. We would arrive in another cinder block building with white walls and a panel of glass separating us from the torture that lay behind the closed doors. C was filled with anxiety. Every time we approached another set of glass doors, leading us to another set of white jacket clad adults, he would start crying, and his crying would turn to screams, and his screams would lead to him flopping on the floor - or valiant attempts to escape. During these series of tests, we had blood work done, and found that C has a wheat and egg allergy. The MMR vaccine is cultured in Chick Embryo. I started to put together my own hypothesis. C has an egg allergy, C has Autism, the MMR vaccine is cultured in chick embryo, the controversial MMR vaccine is said (though discredited) to cause Autism. Hmmm.

I did what any responsible parent should do. I discussed this with our pediatrician. I asked for his professional opinion. And I did a bit more research.

Fast forward to today - a time where there is still controversy regarding the MMR vaccine. Parental rights are being questioned, and more importantly, children and adults have the measles. Every day another case is reported, every day parents have to question whether their children are being exposed. Every day we face the fear that we cannot fulfill our main responsibility as a parent - To PROTECT our child - because of a choice that another parent made.

I made the choice to continue vaccinating C. We chose to vaccinate on a staggered schedule. C does not receive all of his shots at once. We wanted to make sure that his egg allergy would not further impact his development after receiving vaccinations. We decided that having a child who has difficulty expressing feelings, who has an unmatched tolerance for pain, and the inability to communicate if he is ill, should not be susceptible to an illness that is preventible. C has had no adverse reactions to his vaccinations. Despite receiving the MMR, he has continued to make progress.

I don't believe that the government should tell parents how to parent, but I do believe that it is our responsibility to make informed decisions. I don't discredit the stories from other parents, whose children's symptoms of Autism emerged after vaccinations. I do believe, with my whole heart, that there is not one cause of Autism. It has taken me a long time to let go of asking "why". I am not a scientist, a doctor, a biologist, a psychologist, but I am a mom. I do have common sense. If there were one cause of Autism, would their be a Spectrum of symptoms, would there be a Spectrum of severity, would it affect such a broad demographic? Autism has continued to rise, despite a decline in vaccinations. Autism symptoms onset at varying ages, it does not discriminate. It affects Upper Class, Middle Class, and Lower Class citizens, it reaches all corners of the globe, and it presents differently in each individual case. No two people with Autism are alike.

Genetics, environment, food, pollution - there are an abundance of potential sources for the cause of Autism, and why should we pinpoint just one? If there were one cause for Autism, wouldn't there be one type of Autism? If there is a Spectrum of causes, doesn't it make sense that it is a Spectrum Disorder? While the cause may help us in detecting future cases of Autism, it certainly doesn't change things for my family. If I were told while pregnant that my child may have Autism, it would not change my love for him, it would not stop me from raising him. It is not a life threatening disease.

I have come to accept Autism. There are days when it sucks. There are days where I would like to take Autism and obliterate it. But then there are times where I realize that I am a better mom because of it. Our family is closer because of it. Our child is funny and loving, social and smart. There is no way in the world I would trade him in - no way I would or could consider life without him.

C has Autism, he is up to date on his vaccines. It was a choice we made, and feel is in the best interest of our child. There is the chance that an un-vaccinated child may develop measles, and there is the chance that a vaccinated child might have Autism. Science has proven, on multiple occasions, that the findings of Wakefield and his team were false, that the MMR vaccine does not CAUSE Autism.

I am honestly grateful we chose to vaccinate. I would be a nervous wreck if C were un-vaccinated, and exposed to measles. He cannot tell us he is sick, the preliminary symptoms would come and go, and we would have a child with a horrendous rash, fever, vomiting, diarrhea, headaches and pain that he would not be able to communicate. We would struggle to help him alleviate the pain. Autism does not have the potential to take my child too soon. The effects of measles or any other preventable disease does. Autism is an adjective, helping to describe C, and C is so much more than 1 adjective.

When Will The "Why?" Come?

We must presume competence, our children are more cognizant than we think.

I came across a post today, while searching #presumecompetence, that talked about a six year old boy asking his father why it was hard for him (the boy) to be good. I tried to link the post, but couldn't get it to work, so here is a snapshot.

I wonder when C will ask this very same question and have tried to formulate a response. It is my opinion that he should know his diagnosis and I want to be honest, and yet sensitive to what it will mean to him. I wish I knew what was taking place in that beautiful mind, but he does not have the words to effectively let me in. 

I feel like I am always a walking contradiction. I know that he understands so much more than he is able to communicate, but it leaves me, much like everyone else, wondering how much he understands. I long for a conversation that is more than a playback from a scene from Toy Story. I try to read into scripts, thinking maybe there is an underlying meaning to the words he repeats over and over. 

I can sometimes see in his eyes the disappointment in my not understanding the simplest of requests and sometimes feel that he has given up on me. Rather than continue to try to make me understand, it must be easier to just walk away. 

I can't deny the progress we have made. C has speech therapy 3 x's a week between school based services and outside therapy. The additional therapy has made all the difference in his ability to slow down and enunciate his syllables. And yet, I still long for a conversation. I want to hear how his day at school was, from his perspective. We rely on the interpretation of his day, from the eyes of his teachers and aides. We anticipate the multi-paragraph email giving us just a snapshot of his 7 hours away from home. Does he have friends, that are meaningful to him? Did he enjoy the lunch I packed? What was his favorite part of the day? 

One day, I know he will be able to answer these questions. I remember the frustration we both felt when he would stand in front of the refrigerator, grunting - with no words to tell us whether he wanted juice or milk. The progress feels slow, but it is progress none the less. We will continue to support him in his quest for more language, and know how lucky we are to have the communication we do. I can bide my time, and remind myself to be patient. He will tell us, in his words, how he feels. He will ask us, when he is ready, why he has so many supports, why he feels different. Until then I will pray for the strength to continue to presume competence, and will remind myself daily that he is in his own right, brilliant. 

Thank you Chuck E Cheese

Tales of a Sensory Friendly Event

We went to Chuck E Cheese on Sunday. Typically I avoid that place like the plague, because when you go there, you just may come home with the plague. Additionally, it is loud, crowded, kids run around with little supervision, and I end up with a headache, I get anxious, and quickly become the obnoxious helicopter parent.

Why, you may ask, did we go to Chuck E Cheese, if it is such a terrible experience? Because of this:

The Glen Burnie Chuck E Cheese hosted it's first ever Sensory Friendly Morning, and we were so thankful to be included.

Sensory Friendly Events are becoming more popular, as awareness for the need expands. With the lights dimmed, less children, earlier hours, our children were able to play their favorite games with no wait time, climb through the overhead tunnels without physically superior children pushing their way through, one on one time with the beloved Chuck E Cheese, and so much more. There was no judgement from other parents, there was a sense of community, though the event lasted only 2 hours.

Before C's diagnosis, I don't think I would have understood the need for these events, I don't know that I would have given it a second thought. Now, we live for these events - more for my sanity than anything else. While I don't think that C understands his diagnosis, or even has an inkling that he has additional needs, I am hyper sensitive to it. C has no physical signs of a disability, and now that he is lacking his two front teeth, it is clear that he is no longer the toddler that his body language and communication skills indicate. I loathe going to crowded, kid infused, loud public places. I anticipate the worst, mentally prepare myself for the multitude of situations that can occur. Of course, we can't live in a bubble, we have 2 other children who deserve to experience all the joys of Chuck E Cheese, Disney, Museums, the Zoo, and even the mall. And to top it off, those who don't know C, don't understand his behavior, don't understand why he won't answer them when they ask a question, or make a request think I am raising a rude child, when in reality, it is their lack of understanding that can escalate a situation.

Knowing we can enjoy a place like Chuck E Cheese without having to be hyper-alert, that C is among children, families, parents and employees who have a deeper understanding of his need, means the world to me. Furthermore, when these events are advertised and held, we continue to raise not only awareness, but acceptance, of our children with varying needs.

To those that allude to our children being entitled, you couldn't be more wrong. Just as a person who is blind should have access to brail, children who cannot handle the sensory overload that is common to venues like Chuck E Cheese, should have access in a way that is sensitive to their needs.





The attached pictures depict just some of C's moments of pure joy. We have no less than 15 pictures of C riding the Chuck E Cheese Car (picture on the left is of C admiring his picture printed from the ride). He played a racing game that required him to jump on a built in pogo stick in order to make his character move. He used the mallet to "Wack A Mole". C made eye contact with Chuck E Cheese, and introduced himself. He danced to "Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes" with the other children. He tried his hand at Ski Ball (with assistance). There was no limit to what he was able to try, he was able to take his time, and he chose what he wanted to do, without the pressure of the next kid behind him waiting for a turn.

Again, we couldn't be more grateful for the opportunity, and will certainly participate in future events that this Chuck E Cheese location hosts.

The Foundation - Building Blocks of the Future

I get asked a lot "how do you do it?". I always assume they are addressing my having 3 boys, and I say that "I am very lucky to have been able to leave my full time job so that I could focus my efforts on raising my 3 boys". A few days ago though, I was asked the same question, but just felt the context of the question was different. They were asking, indirectly "how do you keep your sanity while managing your child who currently is dropping to the floor while simultaneously trying to run away, with a scream so high pitched the neighborhood dogs think they are being summoned to a party". And that's when I smiled, counted to ten, picked my boy up, told him "no" again, and said "with patience and perseverance".

The thing is, having a child with special needs is more rewarding than it is difficult. There are times when we think that we won't get through a certain phase (Potty Training for instance), or when we feel in our hearts how much harder raising C has been in comparison to the other 2, BUT... the joys that child has brought our family, the humor, and humility he shows us everyday, the life lessons he has taught us, are more valuable than any number of life experiences previous to having him.

What does the Future Hold? 

 

I always knew I wanted to be a mom. I wanted to be a great mom. I wanted to be the house that all the kids in the neighborhood had to come to. I wanted to be the confidant, the friend, the stern voice, when needed. I knew my destiny was motherhood. I have said so many times before, that "the diagnosis" was life changing. We had to go through the stages of grief, to realize that it wasn't just C's future that we no longer had a clear vision of, but our future as well. I think the hardest part has been long term planning, taking each day as it comes. I am a planner, and not knowing what life will look like in 15 years has been frustrating.

The thing is, none of us really know what our future holds. We have all asked, "what does that mean for my child's future?", but we can't really determine any of our children's future. We lay the foundation, but ultimately our children are the one's that pave the path to their own destiny. I always envisioned A as an engineer or architect. He can build intricate and extravagant creations from Lego's, he has always had the ability to do so. He, however, has always expressed interest in acting, directing. From the time he was a toddler, he would set his toys up on stage, and direct us on how to act, what to say. We thought it was just a phase... really, what 2 year old understands what actors do, and have interest in that field? Well he persisted, and despite my dreams of MIT, he has paved his own way, and wants to pursue acting. After 10 years of interest, it is our responsibility to help him go after his dream.

When we get "the diagnosis", we grieve the "what could have been", then we try to reinvent, "what will be". We focus our efforts on fostering our children's abilities, how to ensure a fulfilled life, while still balancing our personal dreams and goals. It repaves our future, and lays a new foundation for our way of life.

BUT... in those moments of reinvention, come moments of triumph, hope, light, laughter. There will be many bends in the road. There will be times where we aren't strong enough to go on our own. In those times, we will rely on our family, our friends, our own support network to help us build and rebuild our foundation and path. And in the meantime, we will continue to take each challenge in stride, we will cherish each of moments of triumph, no matter how great or small.

"A Journey of a Thousand Miles Begins with a Single Step" - Confucius

"The Team recommends that C remain in an inclusive setting for the upcoming school year."

While to many these words have little meaning, for our family it is a testament to how far we have come. Just last year, there was question as to whether or not C could thrive in an inclusive setting. Data was recorded, showing that his attention span and need for prompting and redirection was likely more than could be handled in a classroom with "typical" peers.

Hearing that my child may not have the necessary tools to be successful in an inclusive classroom is heart wrenching. It is one more notch on the belt indicating that my child is "different". It leaves me wondering what that means for the future. It feels as if I am conceding to the diagnosis, deflating the hope I mustered that we could work through the diagnosis, and pave the path to an independent life. Taking away the typical classroom setting also felt like we were beginning the first steps of training our son for a life of dependance, and it seemed like it was just too soon to throw in the towel.

We questioned the placement, we requested a visit to the Self-Contained classroom, we called upon everyone we had met along our journey and asked for advice, guidance, and the strength to call into question a decision we had no part in making. We made our case, and we were able to move C to his home school, where a Self-Contained placement was not an option. We began a journey where in our hearts we knew our child would succeed, but felt the ever present nag of going against the judgement of our team. We prayed that our instinct was more insightful than our teams' decades of experience.

And yesterday, our instinct proved to be not only true, but also a reliable guide as we continue our journey. C was able to master all of his goals from his IEP, he was able to do so in a typical classroom setting, with typical peers. He has a schedule full of transitions, many different teachers, and he succeeded with grace and dignity.

When I think about our journey thus far, I am filled with such pride, for my boy who we were told was on the severe end of the spectrum. A boy who fought to unveil his inner personality, and trust those around him to experience the joyful, caring, charismatic, social, and intelligent boy that he is.  He showed that data is just data, and if given the proper tools, in a setting that is conducive and considerate of his needs, he can thrive, and grow, and prosper. He can begin to pave his way to his life of success and independence.

Thinking over the words "The Team recommends that C remain in an inclusive setting for the upcoming school year", takes my breath away. It is the equivalent of hope, of success, of equality. It means that C is up for the challenge. That he is not willing to be a victim of a diagnosis, that he is willing and ready to work for acceptance and equality. It means that we can trust that we have a team that is also ready to challenge themselves and C to work towards our shared goal of equality and independence, while also maximizing his educational experience. The path to those goals may be different from the rest, but we know in our hearts that it is possible.

An inclusive classroom is not the best learning environment for all children. There are children who require the attention, small classroom size, and additional tools, accommodations and services that a Self-Contained classroom provide. While we fought for an inclusive setting for C, we did so with careful consideration, calculation, and guidance from professionals. This educational setting works now for C, and unfortunately we cannot predict whether it will continue to be C's LRE (Least Restrictive Environment). I strongly feel, however, that all children should first have access to an inclusive educational setting, as we cannot rightfully determine a child's best educational setting, without giving a child the opportunity to learn and socialize with "typical" peers. With the recommendation for C to be placed in the Self-Contained classroom, that the Team initially made, we felt that C was not given the fair and legal opportunity to try to learn alongside his "typical" peers. For that reason, we questioned his placement. Again, we knew in our hearts, and our instinct screamed at us, to continue to question the recommendation. But as we have learned along the way, each child is different, and their abilities shine through in their own unique way and in their own unique environment. We have an IEP, which by definition, is an Individualized Education Plan. No two children learn in the same way, and this needs to be considered when drafting your IEP.
I would also like to take this opportunity to thank our amazing IEP Team. While we know there will come a time where we will disagree, we have created a relationship of respect and I am so thankful for the hard work, dedication, and out of the box planning and brainstorming sessions. Each and every member of our Team holds a special place in our hearts, and we are so thankful to each of you.