Name redacted and changed for privacy. When I was a fresh preservice teacher, I had the opportunity to co-teach a lesson in a resource classroom. I honestly don't remember what the lesson was even about. I just remember that it felt awkward. The pacing was off, the transitions didn't flow, and I walked away feeling like I hadn't done a very good job. During our debrief, my teaching partner and I started doing what new teachers often do -- picking apart all the little mistakes. We talked about wording, pacing, management, and delivery. But our mentors were intentional about redirecting us to the biggest mistake we made. We left him out. For the sake of privacy, I'll call him "Eli." Eli used eye-gaze AAC, one of the most incredible forms of communication technology I had ever seen. But at the time, I didn't understand it. I didn't know how to use it. I didn't know how to prompt him. I didn't know how long to wait for a response. So without even realizing it, we included every other student in the lesson except him. We asked the others questions. We gave the others time to respond. We acknowledged the others' ideas. But when it came to Eli, we simply moved on because we didn't know what to do. That moment has stayed with me for years. I remember immediately feeling guilty. Not defensive. Not embarrassed. Just deeply aware that a child had been excluded in front of me because I lacked the knowledge and confidence to include him properly. And the truth is, I think that happens more often than people want to admit. Inclusion is not always instinctive. Sometimes it has to be learned intentionally. After that lesson, I made myself pay attention. I walked behind the AAC device so I could better understand how it worked. I watched how his teacher interacted with him. I listened to the kinds of questions she asked. I noticed the wait time she gave him before expecting a response. She expected him to participate. Not eventually. Not when it was convenient. Not only when there was extra time. Every time. Because he deserved every opportunity to share his thoughts with the world just as much as anyone else. That experience changed the way I think about inclusion. Teachers have the dignified duty to choose inclusion. To model it for the world. To make sure students are not left out simply because communication looks different. Sometimes inclusion means slowing down. Sometimes it means learning unfamiliar technology. Sometimes it means sitting in the discomfort of realizing we've unintentionally excluded someone. But we do it anyway, because people matter. I think many educators have moments like this if they're honest enough to admit it. Moments where they realized they overlooked someone. Moments that reshaped the way they teach, communicate, and advocate. As much as I've thought about that day over the year, time somehow slipped away from me. In my mind, Eli stayed the same little boy sitting behind that device in the classroom. But he isn't little anymore. He's a high school graduate. He walked across the stage because people over the years chose to include him, support him, listen to him, and believe his voice mattered. And I am so proud. I'm grateful that one uncomfortable lesson early in my career taught me something I could never afford to forget again: Communication is not limited to speech. Participation is not optional. And inclusion is always a choice. This story became the foundation for my latest podcast conversation about AAC, inclusion, and the responsibility we have to presume competence and make space for every voice. You can listen to the full episode here:

I want to talk about something called universal design. Universal design reminds me of dear Pete Hoechner, who first taught me about the concept in a way that truly clicked for me. Why Universal Design Changes Everything When people hear "disability rights," they often assume it's a narrow issue -- something that only applies to a specific group of people. But disability rights are actually about something much bigger. They are about how we design the world. And when we zoom out far enough, we start to see something important: We are all already living in a world shaped by disability access. Universal Design Is Already Everywhere Universal design is the idea that when we design spaces, tools, communication, and learning environments to be accessible to people with disabilities, everyone benefits. And once you learn to see it, you can't unsee it. Who doesn't watch TV with subtitles now? Captions were created for Deaf and hard of hearing individuals, yet millions of people use them daily: in loud rooms while kids are sleeping to process information better to follow accents while scrolling social media What about elevators? Designed for accessibility, but now used constantly by: parents with strollers older adults people recovering from injuries people in a hurry everyone Alternative communication? People often think AAC belongs only in disability spaces. But what is texting? Email? Voice notes? Social media? We use alternative communication every single day. And what about Amazon Alexa or Siri? Smart home technology can be life-changing for disabled individuals: voice controlled lights reminders environmental controls safety tools And yet all of us benefit from the convenience. Automatic doors at stores. Speech-to-text. Predictive typing. Video calls. None of these are "special features." They are examples of accessibility becoming everyday life. That is universal design in action. Schools Were Not Always Built This Way To understand why inclusion matters today, we also have to understand where education started. For a long time, schooling was deeply cookie-cutter. And history matters here. There was a time when students with disabilities were excluded entirely from public education. Many were segregated into separate systems. Others were not provided meaningful access to learning at all. Even students who were included in general education classrooms were not necessarily considered in how instruction was designed. The expectation was simple: one lesson one pace one way of learning one way of demonstrating understanding If a student didn't fit that structure, the system rarely adapted -- the student was expected to. But students have never been uniform. Even in today's classrooms, we see incredible diversity, including: students with IEPs students with 504 plans students receiving RTI supports gifted learners English learners students experiencing trauma or anxiety students with varying communication and processing needs General education and special education are not separate worlds. They overlap constantly. Because the reality is: all students need access to learning -- just not always in the same way. The Reality for Teachers I'm fortunate enough to hold both general education and special education certification, and that perspective has shaped how I see instruction in a very different way. But most educators do not have that dual training. And yet they are expected to: differentiate instruction daily adjust curriculum in real time support a wide range of learning needs manage behavior and emotional needs close academic gaps meet standardized expectations and respond to constantly changing classroom dynamics Every single year is different because every group of students is different. No script fully prepares a teacher for that reality. And still, they show up and try to make learning accessible. That matters. Why Universal Design Matters in Education This is where universal design becomes more than a concept -- it becomes a necessity. Because when learning is designed from the start with flexibility in mind, we don't have to constantly retrofit instruction after the fact. Universal design in schools means students can: access content in multiple ways show understanding in multiple formats engage with material in different entry points receive support without being singled out experience success in ways that fit their needs And here's what people sometimes miss: These strategies don't just support students with disabilities. They support: struggling learners anxious learners advanced learners multilingual learners and often the entire classroom One important misconception is that teachers "can't" provide accommodations unless a student has an IEP or 504 plan. But many of the most effective supports in classrooms are simply good teaching practices made visible and intentional. There is no reason students cannot access accommodations and supports even if they don't have a formal education plan. In fact, when we wait for a label before offering support, we miss the students who are struggling quietly and haven't been identified yet. Inclusion Was Never About One Group of Students One of the biggest misconceptions about inclusion is that it is "extra" -- something added on for a small percentage of students. But inclusion isn't extra. It is foundational. Because classrooms have always contained diverse learners. Because education has always needed flexibility. Because students have never been one-size-fits-all. The more we understand that, the clearer it becomes: Inclusion isn't a program. It's a design choice. Final Thought When we design systems for access, we don't just help "those students." We build better systems for everyone. Disability rights, universal design, and inclusive education are not separate conversations. They are all part of the same truth: People learn, communicate, and exist in different ways -- and the world works better when we design for that reality.

Trying something new can feel exciting for some children. For many neurodivergent children and autistic learners, new experiences can also bring uncertainty, anxiety, sensory overwhelm, and fear of the unknown. As parents, educators, therapists and caregivers, we sometimes underestimate just how many hidden expectations exist in everyday experiences. A field trip. A birthday party. A doctor's appointment. A haircut. A community event. A race. Even something that sounds fun can feel incredibly overwhelming when a child doesn't know what to expect. That's where visual supports and social stories can make a life-changing difference. Visual Supports Create Predictability Neurodivergent learners often process information differently. Many children with autism benefit from visual information because visuals remain consistent, concrete, and easier to revisit than spoken language alone. Verbal instructions disappear quickly. Visual supports stay. A visual schedule, social story, first-then board, or expectation chart can help answer important questions before anxiety begins to build: What will happen? Where are we going? Who will be there? What will it sound like? What if I feel nervous? What are the rules? When will it be over? When children understand what to expect, they are often able to participate more successfully and with greater confidence. Social Stories Reduce Anxiety Without Shame One of the things I love most about social stories is that they prepare children without using fear, punishment, or pressure. A well-written social story is calm, supportive, and reassuring. It doesn't focus on "fixing behaviors." Instead, it provides information, predictability, and emotional safety. Social stories can help children: Prepare for transitions Understand routines Learn safety expectations Navigate social situations Reduce fear of unfamiliar experiences Build confidence and independence Most importantly, they allow children to enter new experiences feeling informed instead of overwhelmed. New Experiences Can Feel Big As adults, we sometimes walk into environments without realizing how many sensory and social demands exist. But for neurodivergent children, new experiences may include: loud sounds unfamiliar people waiting unexpectedly changes in routine sensory discomfort fast-paced instructions uncertainty about expectations Even exciting community experiences can feel overwhelming without preparation. Visual supports help bridge that gap. Inclusion Requires Preparation True inclusion is not simply inviting neurodivergent individuals into spaces and hoping they adjust. Inclusion means creating supports that allow people to access experiences successfully. Visual supports, social stories, communication tools, and accessible preparation are not "extra." They are meaningful accommodations that help children participate in the world around them. And honestly? Many children benefit from visual supports -- not just autistic learners. Predictability helps all humans feel safer. Why I Create These Resources As both an educator and advocate, I've seen firsthand how much visual supports can change a child's experience. I've watched anxiety decrease when expectations become clearer. I've watched children participate in activities adults assumed would be "too much." I've watched families feel empowered simply because someone took the time to prepare their child in an accessible way. That's why I'm passionate about creating resources that support real-life experiences and community participation. Because every child deserves the opportunity to feel included, prepared, and successful. Final Thoughts Sometimes the smallest supports create the biggest impact. A few visuals. A simple social story. Predictable language. A little preparation. Those things can turn an overwhelming experience into a successful one. And every successful experience builds confidence for the next. I'm Here to Help I recently created a Soap Box Derby social story and visual support resource to help neurodivergent learners feel more prepared and confident during race-day experiences and community events. If your child is participating in a new experience, I can help you set them up for success with clear, supportive visuals and tools that make transitions easier and less stressful. I also offer custom-designed supports tailored to your child's needs and the specific situation they are stepping into.

When I graduated high school, I had every intention of becoming a history teacher. I wasn't just casually interested in history--I was deeply, intensely into it. A full-on special interest kind of love. Especially Civil War history. Even more specifically: Abraham Lincoln. But life has a way of shifting plans in ways you don't see coming. The summer after I graduated, I worked in my mom's little boutique store. I started dating my now husband. And around that same time, I was asked to work with a young man just a little younger than me who has autism and seizures. I said yes immediately. That one yes changed everything. It didn't take long before I marched into my advisor's office and changed my entire academic path. I finished my associate's degree at SKYCTC and transferred to WKU with a new direction. While at WKU, I ended up in a clinical dual-certification experience called TopPrep completely by accident. In fact, I tried to get out of it. I had no idea it would become of the most formative experiences of my life. Not only did it prepare me for teaching, it gave me real professional opportunities--real responsibility, real mentorship, real expectations. I still tell my friend Madison that the way we were trained in that program didn't just prepare us to be teachers. It prepared us for professional roles. Big professional roles. And I loved teaching. I made unbreakable bonds with the teachers I worked alongside. Caring for students came naturally. Loving them was effortless. Showing up for them felt like breathing. But I wore myself out. I care loudly. And I think people who know me understand what that means. When resources weren't enough, I tried to become the difference myself. I filled the gaps. I pushed harder. I kept going until I didn't have anything left to give in the same way. Eventually, I made a decision that felt both risky and necessary: I left teaching. But I didn't leave education. I never slowed down. I just started doing it differently. On my own terms. From my home. With my family at the center of it. I have ADHD, and while it might look like I'm constantly moving forward without effort, the truth is I struggle with emotional regulation and executive functioning in ways most people don't see it. Spesh became my hyperfocus. My "Abe Lincoln-level" deep dive. Advocacy, inclusion, and disability awareness are my special interests--what my mom calls a "niche." One day last summer, I had a phone call with my mom that left me in tears. I was struggling more than I wanted to admit. After that call, I did something simple but life-changing: I finalized the Spesh Facebook page, invited a few friends, and made a post. The response was immediate. And that moment of support became the beginning of something much bigger than I expected. It led, in part, to landing my position at WKU teaching a class while still being able to stay home with my kids. It led to my first paid consultation and advocacy work. It led to momentum. And once it started, I didn't stop. Spesh now lives in my brain in a constant stream of ideas. Community impact projects. Resource development. Event planning. Vendor opportunities. Speaking engagements. Future possibilities I'm still learning how to build into reality. It all grew faster than I ever expected. When I think about Spesh, I often think back to sitting at Chick-fil-A with my mom when I first started classes at SKYCTC. I told her I wanted to be a business owner someday. I wanted to create a space for individuals with disabilities to come, to learn, to build skills, and to just be. Spesh doesn't look exactly like that dream yet. But maybe dreams aren't meant to arrive fully formed. Maybe they unfold. And maybe, just maybe, I'm still building my way back to a full-circle version of it. Because I left the classroom--but I didn't leave education. I just found a different way to live it.

Welcome to So Very Spesh. 🎧 Listen to the episode here: Episode 4 Somewhere along this journey, I accidentally became a graphic designer. I spend a lot of time in Canva now -- probably more than I should admit -- but what started as experimenting with visuals has turned into one of my favorite parts of building Spesh. Because for me, branding is never just about how something looks. It's about how it feels. And I've always believed that inclusion, advocacy, and accessibility deserve to feel warm, creative, and human -- not clinical or cold. That's where the #BEspesh collection was born. It's a show-build launch of designs rooted in belonging, representation, and everyday advocacy. Each piece carries meaning, but none of it is meant to feel heavy. It's meant to feel like us. The Heart of the Collection The #BEspesh collection is rolling out in four categories: Kid-friendly designs Spesh Mom Spesh Teacher Spesh logo variations Each one was created with intention, but also with joy. Because inclusion should be something people want to participate in. Kid-Friendly Designs You'll see phrases like: "Let's Be Friends" "Moving Helps Me Learn" "You Can Sit With Us" They're simple on purpose. These designs aren't just for kids with disabilities. They're for any child, any classroom, any community. They're about friendship. Belonging. And the quiet power of being included. Spesh Mom Collection This collection centers around the phrase: "I'm not a regular mom, I'm a spesh mom." It features everyday symbols like coffee cups, AAC devices, headphones, and wheelchairs -- not as hardship markers, but as real parts of daily life. The goal was never to portray struggle. The goal was to reflect identity, humor, pride and connection. Spesh Teacher Collection Educators are a huge part of this world, especially in special education spaces. This line includes visuals like PECS cards, horseshoe tables, play therapy elements, AAC devices, and other familiar supports that teachers and therapists recognize instantly. It's a nod to the people who show up every day and make inclusion possible in real classrooms. Empowerment Through Design One of the most meaningful parts of this process has been reimagining the original Spesh logo. The empowerment fist has always represented advocacy and visibility, but exploring new variations of it has allowed me to play with tone -- from bold to playful to minimal -- while keeping the same message at the center. Why It Matters Inclusion doesn't have to look serious to be serious. A shirt that says "You Can Sit With Us" might seem simple, but it can completely shift how a child feels walking into a room. Design has power. Language has power. And when the two come together intentionally, they can create belonging in everyday moments. That's what #BEspesh is really about. Not just clothing. Not just branding. But wearable advocacy. Thanks for being here and growing with Spesh as it continues to evolve. And as always... keep making the world so very spesh.

When I first created the Faces of Spesh concept, it was simple. I wanted to showcase my custom designs on real people -- students, families, teachers, friends -- and build a collection that felt connected to the community around me. That was it. A creative idea. A photoshoot. A way to bring the designs to life. But as the names started coming in, something unexpected happened. Not because I forced it. Not because I built a checklist. Not because I was trying to design a perfect version of inclusion. It grew because people wanted to be a part of it. And that changed everything. The So Very Spesh Podcast Series The journey has been unfolding in real time, and I've been sharing pieces of it through the So Very Spesh podcast as the #BEspesh: Faces of Spesh event continues to grow. If you want the full behind-the-scenes story, here's the series so far: Episode 1: Inclusion Starts Behind-the-Scenes This episode walks through the behind-the-scenes planning of the event -- everything from logistics to early ideas, vendor planning, and what it takes to begin building an inclusive community experience from the ground up. Listen to Episode 1: Inclusion Starts Behind-the-Scenes Episode 2: More Than a Photoshoot In this episode, I share how Faces of Spesh evolved from a simple photoshoot concept into something much bigger -- a community-centered event built around inclusion, accessibility, and Spesh's first birthday celebration. Listen to Episode 2: More Than a Photoshoot Episode 3: The People Behind Faces of Spesh This episode focuses on the people behind the project -- how representation naturally formed, and what it means to see such a diverse group of students, families, and supporters coming together as part of this collection. Listen to Episode 3: The People Behind Faces of Spesh A Naturally Forming Representation What's emerged so far is something I didn't fully anticipate, but deeply value. Faces of Spesh now includes preschool students, homeschool students, students with a wide range of disabilities, neurodivergent identities, and different learning and communication styles. We also have general education teachers and special education teachers. Parents. Friends. Advocates. Supporters. We even have a baby. And every time someone new joins, the project doesn't just grow in size -- it grows in meaning. It becomes more layered. More connected. More real. What Inclusion Looks Like Here To me, this is what inclusion is supposed to look like. Not a single type of person. Not a single experience. Not a single way of communicating, learning, or existing in the world. Just people. Existing together. Represented together. Celebrated together. And I think somewhere along the way, the world can make things feel separated and categorized in ways that don't reflect real community. But community, in its truest form, is diverse. It holds difference. It holds variation. It holds humanity in all its forms. That's what I'm seeing take shape here. People, Not Labels One of the most important parts of this project for me is that the people involved are not being reduced to labels or stories meant to inspire others. They are not symbols. They are participants. They are contributors. They are individuals who deserve to be seen exactly as they are. And that distinction matters deeply. Because this isn't about saying, "look how inspirational this is." It's about saying, "you belong here." A Community That Formed Itself What's been most powerful is that this representation didn't come from me trying to design it perfectly. It formed organically. Families shared it. Friends invited friends. Teachers connected with it. Supporters showed up. People reached out because it resonated with them. And slowly, Faces of Spesh became something I didn't just create -- it became something we're building together. A real community. Still Growing We are still accepting participants and volunteers, and that honestly feels exciting. Because I know there are still more stories, more faces, and more connections that haven't yet become part of this project. And I can't wait to see them. Why This Matters More than anything, I hope this event creates visibility. Not performative visibility. Not awareness for the sake of awareness. Real visibility. The kind where people don't feel like they have to shrink themselves to fit into a space. The kind where families can breathe a little easier. The kind where kids grow up seeing themselves reflected in their community. June 13 On June 13, Faces of Spesh will come together on my farm. It will be a gathering of people, connection, creativity, and celebration. We'll mark Spesh's first birthday together -- something that started as a small idea and has grown into something I'm incredibly proud of. And at the center of it all will be one simple truth: People belong here. If you want to follow along, participate, or support the event, you can stay connected through social media. This is just the beginning.

When people attend the event, they usually see the finished product -- the decorations, the smiles, the photos, the activities, and the fun. What they often don't see is the intentional planning behind creating a space where people of all abilities truly feel welcomed, supported, and included. As I prepare for the #BEspesh: Faces of Spesh Photoshoot, I've realized that inclusive events are not built by accident. They are created through hundreds of thoughtful decisions made long before anyone walks through door. Inclusion lives in the details. Listen to the Podcast Series Episode 1: Inclusion Starts Behind the Scenes A behind-the-scenes look at the logistics, planning, vendors, accessibility considerations, and everything going into creating the #BEspesh: Faces of Spesh Event. Episode 2: More Than a Photoshoot The story behind how Faces of Spesh evolved from a custom apparel photoshoot into a full community-centered inclusive event and birthday celebration for Spesh's first year. Starting with the "Why" Before planning activities, themes, or decorations, I started with one question: How do I want families to feel when they arrive? Not just the children. Not just the participants. Everyone. I want families to feel: safe accepted prepared celebrated unhurried understood That mindset shapes every decision that follows. Visual Supports Matter One of the biggest priorities in my planning process has been visual accessibility. For many individuals with disabilities -- especially autistic individuals, nonspeaking communicators, individuals with anxiety, or those with processing differences -- visuals create predictability and reduce stress. That means event planning includes: visual schedules labeled activity areas first/then supports social stories volunteer visual guides clear signage calm transition expectations Visual supports are not "extras." They are communication tools. When people know what to expect, they can participate more comfortably and confidently. Creating a Calm Atmosphere Inclusive events are not just about physical accessibility. They are also about emotional and sensory accessibility. That means carefully thinking through: noise levels crowd control waiting areas transitions movement breaks quiet spaces lighting sensory-friendly activities Even small adjustments can completely change someone's experience A child who normally struggles in busy environments may thrive when there is a predictable routine and a calm space to regroup. A parent who usually feels anxious attending community events may finally be able to relax. That matters. Planning Activities with Different Needs in Mind When choosing activities, I try to ask: Can this be adapted for different support needs and ages? For example, the #BEspesh Bracelet Bar station is designed with: beads with large holes thick cord for easier stringing simple visual examples meaningful conversations about friendship and inclusion It is not just a craft table. It is an opportunity for connection. Inclusive activities should allow people to participate in ways that work for them -- not force everyone into the same expectations. Supporting Businesses that Value Inclusion Another important part of this event has been intentionally choosing who I partner with. Whenever possible, I want to support: local small businesses disability-owned businesses businesses that actively employ individuals with disabilities organizations that value inclusion and community impact For this event, I'll be wearing a bracelet from Madizen inspired by Love on the Spectrum -- a small but meaningful reminder that representation and visibility matter. I am also partnering with SweetAbility Bakery to create custom cookies for the celebration. Supporting businesses that embrace inclusion and community impact makes this event feel even more special. Inclusion extends beyond the event itself. It also means considering where I spend my dollars, who I collaborate with, and how I strengthen community connections. There is something really meaningful about building an event that reflects the values it promotes. Volunteers Make Inclusion Possible An inclusive event does not happen because one person works hard behind the scenes. It happens because volunteers, educators, therapists, families, photographers, businesses, and community members choose to show up with compassion and flexibility. That is why volunteer preparation matters so much. I am providing: volunteer packets clear expectations visual support guidance sensory-aware reminders strategies for helping participants feel comfortable and safe Inclusion is Intentional Inclusive planning takes more time. More thought. More flexibility. More preparation. And it is always worth it. Because every visual support created, every calm corner prepared, every volunteer trained, and every accommodation considered sends a message: You belong here. That's the kind of community I want Spesh to continue building. Not just events that look beautiful in photos -- but experiences where families genuinely feel seen, valued, and included. Final Thoughts As I continue planning this event, I keep reminding myself that inclusion is not a checklist. It is a mindset. It is asking: Who might need additional support? What barriers can we remove? How can I make this experience more comfortable for everyone? How do we create spaces where people feel safe being themselves? Sometimes the most meaningful parts of an event are the things people never notice -- because thoughtful planning helped everything feel calm, welcoming, and natural. And honestly, that is exactly the goal. A Note for Anyone Interested in Participating As this event continues coming together, I've been so encouraged by the support from our community. If you are interested in: volunteering at the event helping lead an activity supporting behind the scenes contributing to the sensory-friendly atmosphere participating in the inclusive photoshoot ...please reach out ahead of time. Intentional planning is a huge part of creating an inclusive experience, and having advance communication helps me make thoughtful arrangements for participants, volunteers, accommodations, scheduling, and event flow. Every person involved helps make this event more welcoming, meaningful, and community-center -- an I'm incredibly grateful for everyone choosing to be part of it.

I ordered an ADA compliant porta potty yesterday, and honestly? I feel like I'm winning at life. Not because that's glamorous. Not because it's some huge business milestone everyone dreams about. But because every single detail matters to me. I work 5 to 9. I wake up before everyone else in the house--and that's with getting up at least twice a night with my 5 month old. At this point, I don't even know if I'm tired anymore. I think I'm just running on ambition and cold brew. And somehow, I still wake up with new ideas every single day. Because I believe in Spesh that much. I filled out a casting application for a mompreneur TV show recently. For a second, I let myself imagine what it would feel like to be seen like that. Then the application asked if I could front $5,000 to participate. Technically? Maybe I could've figured it out. Borrowed it. Scraped it together from family. But that didn't feel right for this season of our life. Because the truth is, behind the polished branding and the organized event packers and the welcoming social media graphics is... me. And me looks like an old farmhouse full of unfinished renovation projects. It looks like toys scattered across every room. It looks like so many mice we finally had to get a cat--and thank goodness she's a hunter. It looks like chicken poop all over the yard and dogs proudly bringing dead animals to the porch like tiny serial killers offering gifts. This spring alone, we've had a baby donkey born, several baby goats, and a baby chick. I'm raising 3 kids under 5. My son got into income-based preschool. And honestly, sometimes it feels embarrassing to admit that I work for WKU while still living in poverty. My husband works around the clock to keep us afloat. I do too. We're exhausted in ways I can't fully explain, but we keep going because we believe this hard season is building something bigger than us. Right now, it feels like we survive mostly on hope. Hope for our future. Hope for our kids. Hope that one day all this work means something. Both of us have big dreams. And I've always believed that when you put good things into the world-- when you build something with intention and heart-- it eventually comes back to you somehow. But the things about Spesh is this: It's never really been about money. It's about impact. It's about creating spaces where people with disabilities don't have to earn belonging. It's about accommodations without shame. It's about families feeling seen. It's about finding people who believe what I believe: Disabled individuals do not need to be fixed in order to belong. And maybe that's why I'm so proud of that ADA compliant porta potty. Because to some people, it's just a bathroom. But to me, it's proof that I'm building this with intention. One detail at a time.

Today is Speech-Language Pathologist Appreciation Day, and I can't let it pass without recognizing the incredible impact SLPs have had on my life as an educator. When I earned my master's degree at WKU, I had the opportunity to be part of Project PREP-- Preparing Rural Educators and Professionals for Students with High-Intensity Needs --a federally funded interdisciplinary grant program led by Dr. Christina Noel. The program intentionally brought together special education teachers and speech-language pathologists to learn alongside one another through coursework, field experiences, and collaboration. You can read more about Project PREP and the interdisciplinary work we completed together here. That experience forever changed the way I approach teaching. But I also want to acknowledge that I entered the program with a foundation that had already deeply shaped my understanding of communication and connection. Before teaching, I worked alongside an individual who was nonspeaking. That experience shaped me long before I ever sat in a graduate program learning about AAC, communication, access, or interdisciplinary collaboration. What impacted me most was that I had to learn him before I could truly support communication with him. Communication did not look the way most people socially expect it to look. There were not always spoken responses, immediate reactions, or conventional exchanges. I learned to pay attention differently--to body language, routines, preferences, behaviors, pacing, trust, and connection. I learned that communication is often built through relationship and understanding long before words are ever exchanged. At times, he would communicate through supported typing on an iPad or through writing on dry erase boards, but that was not an everyday communication method. The most important part was learning how to create safety, trust, and opportunities for expression in ways that honored his needs and autonomy. That experience taught me to slow down as an educator. To stop defining participation so narrowly. To recognize that communication is so much bigger than speech. Then, when I entered Project PREP at WKU and began collaborating closely with speech-language pathologists, I was able to strengthen that foundation even further. I learned more intentional strategies for supporting students with complex communication needs through AAC, visual supports, multiple opportunities to respond, and inclusive communication practices that could be embedded throughout the school day. SLPs helped me think differently about participation. Differently about behavior. Differently about access. I began to understand that communication supports are not "extras" in a classroom. They are access points. They are often the difference between a student simply being present in a classroom and a student being meaningfully included in it. The best collaboration between teachers and SLPs happens when communication becomes everyone's responsibility. Not something that only happens during therapy sessions. Not something reserved for "speech time." But something intentionally embedded throughout the entire school day. And honestly, some of the most inclusive classrooms I've ever seen were not necessarily the most expensive or the most highly resourced. They were the classrooms where adults intentionally collaborated to create opportunities for every students to access learning and participate in ways that worked for them. 3 simple Ways to Collaborate with SLPs for a More Inclusive Classroom Build Multiple Opportunities to Respond Into Everyday Inclusion Not every student processes information or expresses understanding verbally and immediately. Collaborating with SLPs can help educators expand what participation looks like in the classroom. Opportunities to respond might include: pointing gesturing selecting visuals AAC devices partner responses movement-based responses written responses visuals or choice boards yes/no systems wait time for processing Students should not have to rely solely on verbal speech to demonstrate engagement or understanding. When teachers and SLPs work together to plan accessible opportunities, more students can actively engage in learning instead of simply observing it. Use Visual Supports Across the Entire Classroom -- Not Just for Individual Students One of the biggest lessons I learned from SLP collaboration was that visual supports benefit far more students than we often realize. Visual schedules, first/then boards, modeled expectations, choice boards, sentence starters, classroom icons, and visual directions increase predictability and comprehension for many learners -- especially students with communication, language, processing, or executive functioning needs. The most effective visual supports are not hidden away as "special accommodations." They are naturally embedded into the classroom environment so all students can access them when needed. Inclusive supports help everyone. If you are looking for a simple place to start, I created a free First/Then board that educators and families can use to support routines, transitions, and communication access. Prioritize Communication Access Over Compliance Sometimes educators unintentionally focus so heavily on compliance that we miss communication attempts altogether. SLPs helped me become more aware of this in my own practice. Behaviors often communicate needs before words do. Avoidance, dysregulation, silence, scripting, movement, and shutdowns can all communicate something important about access, overwhelm, processing, or support needs. Collaboration with SLPs can help teams shift from asking: How did we get this student to comply? to asking: How do we make communication and participation more accessible? That shift changes everything. Why This Matters So Much to Me As I reflect on the experiences that shaped the vision behind Spesh and the #BEspesh movement, collaboration with SLPs is absolutely part of that story. The way I think about accessibility, visual supports, communication opportunities, inclusion, and student voice was deeply influenced by those relationships and experiences. Project PREP reinforced something I now carry into every part of my work: Every individual deserves opportunities to communicate, connect, participate, and be understood. And sometimes the most powerful thing we can do as educators is create environments where those opportunities are intentionally built into everyday learning. To every speech-language pathologist advocating for communication access, collaborating with educators, supporting families, and helping individuals find their voice in whatever form it takes -- thank you. Your work changes lives every single day. So Very Spesh IEPs • Inclusion • Real classroom practice

This summer is all about connection, celebration, and community--and it all leads up to a very special milestone: Spesh's first birthday. From photoshoots to product launches to statewide outreach, here's what's ahead for the #BEspesh movement. June 13 Faces of Spesh Model Photoshoot + Early Birthday Celebration We're kicking off the summer with a meaningful experience right at home. On June 13, selected Faces of Spesh models will participate in a professional photoshoot hosted on a private farm in Simpson County, Kentucky. This day is more than just capturing images--it's about visibility, confidence, and representation. This gathering will also serve as an early celebration of Spesh's first birthday, bringing together community members, participants, and families in a space designed for joy, creativity, and belonging. July 1 Launch of the #BEspesh Collection On July 1, the #BEspesh Collection officially launches. This drop features custom graphic designs created by me, intentionally designed to reflect identity, empowerment, and everyday inclusion. This collection arrives just in time for back-to-school season, making it both timely and meaningful for students, families, and supporters. Expect bold visuals, thoughtful messaging, and pieces that represent the heart of the Spesh mission. July 18 PossAbilities Expo On July 18, Spesh will be attending the PossAbilities Expo, connecting with: New families Educators and professionals Community partners Advocacy organizations This is an opportunity to share resources, build relationships, and expand the reach of #BEspesh to those who need it most. I'm showing up ready to listen, learn, and collaborate. July 19 Spesh's 1st Birthday! The official celebration arrives on July 19--Spesh's very first birthday. This milestone represents a year of growth, storytelling, advocacy, and community-building. While the celebration is ongoing throughout the summer, this date marks the heart of it all. Stay Connected All Summer Long Follow along this summer on social media for: Updates and event highlights Sneak peeks of the #BEspesh Collection Launch-day celebrations Giveaways and shoutouts Free resources for families and educators Community services and support opportunities Behind-the-scenes moments from Spesh events You can stay connected through our Facebook community: Closing Note The Summer of Spesh is more than a series of events--it's a living expression of what happens when community, creativity, and purpose come together. Every date on this calendar is connected by one mission: making visibility, inclusion, and celebration more accessible for everyone. I'm just getting started.

The last week of school carries so many emotions. There's excitement and celebration. There's exhaustion. There's pride, change, transition, and sometimes uncertainty about what comes next. But even in the middle of busy schedules, award ceremonies, graduation celebrations, and ESY planning meetings, beautiful things are still happening every single day. Sometimes the most meaningful wins are the quiet ones. A child trying a new food for the first time. A homeschool student with CP and autism smiling while trying on his cousin's University of Kentucky cap and gown. Seeing a former student featured in a story from Western Kentucky University and feeling overwhelming pride for how far she has come. Those are wonderful wins. This week, I also found myself reflecting on the wins happening within the Spesh community itself. Last week, I shared nearly 30 teacher spotlights to celebrate and remember remarkable educators who have made huge impacts in the lives of so many students. I was able to treat two very Spesh moms for Mother's Day because this community believes parents deserve support, encouragement, and appreciation too. And honestly? Every single day that I spend building the next thing for Spesh feels like a wonderful win for me. I'm connecting with people who have the same heart and mission. I'm building meaningful partnerships. I'm connecting families to resources they didn't know existed. I'm creating teacher tools that I wish we all had sooner. Spesh started with a simple goal: to make families and educators feel less alone while navigating special education. And somehow, little by little, that goal is growing into something bigger than I ever imagined. So if you're ending this school year exhausted, overwhelmed, emotional, or unsure if you made a difference, I hope you know this: The wins are still there. Sometimes they look like progress monitoring data. Sometimes they look like graduation pictures. Sometimes they look like surviving another IEP meeting. Sometimes they look like a student finally feeling included. And sometimes the biggest win is simply continuing to show up. Thank you for being part of this community and for helping create spaces where every child, family, and educator can be celebrated. The Wonderful Wins don't stop just because the school year is ending. What Is Wonderful Wins Wednesday? Wonderful Wins Wednesday is a weekly celebration shared through the Spesh Facebook event page. Each week, families, educators, therapists, and community members are invited to share meaningful moments happening in the world of special education and inclusion. Some wins are huge milestones, while others are quiet victories that deserve recognition too. Wonderful Wins may include: Student growth Classroom success Inclusion moments Advocacy victories Graduation and transition milestones Parenting wins Teacher encouragement Everyday progress worth celebrating Submitted wins are featured on the Wonderful Wins Wednesday Facebook event page to encourage and connect the Spesh community through positive stories and shared experiences. Whether you are a parent, educator, student, therapist, or advocate, your story matters here. Submit a Wonderful Win Have a student, teacher, parent, therapist, or community member you want to celebrate? Drop a nomination below so we can continue sharing the good happening in the Spesh community.

The End of the School Year is Busy for Everyone--But Especially in Special Education As the school year wraps up, special education teams and families are juggling a lot: Final progress reports Transition planning for next year ESY decisions Graduation requirements Student placement changes Communication between current and future teams And when everything happens at once, important details can easily get missed. Unfortunately, those missed details often create preventable problems in August. The Truth About "Starting Fresh" Each School Year Too often, students return in the fall and their new team has little to no context about: What accommodations actually worked Which behavior supports were successful What challenges emerged this year What concerns families had before summer What transition supports were needed When that information is not intentionally communicated, teams spend the first several weeks of school relearning what was already known. Students should not have to start over every August. End-of-Year Planning Is More Than a Progress Report Closing out the year well means more than sending home final paperwork. It means asking: What should next year's team know immediately? What supports must continue? Are there concerns that need addressed before summer? Is this student prepared for their next transition? Does the family understand next steps? These conversations matter. A Simple Way to Improve End-of-Year Meetings One of the easiest ways to improve collaboration is to use a structured checklist or planning system during spring/end-of-year meetings. Having a shared planning tool helps teams: Stay organized Assign responsibilities clearly Document concerns before summer Plan proactively for transitions Ensure nothing falls through the cracks That's Exactly Why I Created This Resource To help parents and educators navigate end-of-year special education planning with more clarity and less chaos, I created: The Spesh End-of-Year Playbook A collaborative planning system designed specifically for special education teams and families. It includes: Core Wrap-Up Checklist Transition Planning Tools ESY / Summer Services Planning Graduation & Big Transition Supports Editable Canva Templates for Ongoing Use Grab the Playbook Here If you want a structured system to help your team close out the year intentionally: Final Thought Meaningful meetings don't happen by accident. They happen when teams come prepared, communicate clearly, and plan with the student's future in mind. Ending the year well is one of the best ways to set students up for success next year. So Very Spesh IEPs • Inclusion • Real Classroom Practice