As Kalei entered middle school, I sought out a program that truly embraced inclusion. I found a school that offered specialized support alongside opportunities in art, dance, music, photography, and gardening. During the first two years, our world shifted online due to COVID, and I became known as “the dance mom,” standing beside her on camera as we practiced ballet and tap together from our living room.

When she finally returned to the stage in person, she stood front and center, completely in her element, and loving every moment of it.

Living in San Diego, California, I had access to a wide range of inclusive and therapeutic programs, supported in part by organizations like the San Diego Regional Center. Even then, parents were often required to conduct their own research to uncover opportunities beyond what was formally provided. Over time, I began to recognize a larger truth: what was accessible in some regions simply did not exist in others.

​

When I considered returning to the South, I found far fewer options both inside and outside of school systems. The same opportunities that had allowed Kalei to thrive were not readily available to many families. I also came to understand how costly, time-consuming, and logistically challenging these programs can be — barriers that place meaningful experiences out of reach for too many children.