We’re two weeks into the school year, and so far (knock on wood), things are going smoothly for my son. He is a freshman with Down syndrome who spends most of his day in general education classes.

Our community has worked hard to make inclusion a priority, and there’s been much progress. I serve on a district inclusion committee, working alongside many dedicated educators who share this commitment. Yet, I think we all agree that there’s still room to grow.

So, as the school year began, all of us—my son, my family, and the school team—had assumptions and expectations.

My son expected high school to be bigger and harder, pushing him out of his comfort zone and encouraging him to try new things. He felt a mix of excitement and nerves, which I think is pretty typical for any freshman. On his first day, he came home and told me, “High school is not terrible.”

I entered the year with cautious optimism. I always try to give people the benefit of the doubt, though I’ll admit it’s not always easy.

Over the years, I have encountered educators who have judged my son based solely on his diagnosis. But if I expect them not to make assumptions, I have to hold myself to the same standard.

So, I try to approach each new year with the hope that the teachers will get to know him, meet him where he is, value him for who he is, and teach him meaningful, grade-level content.

Those are always my expectations.

Sometimes, the biggest shifts happen when we move beyond our assumptions and embrace what’s possible. By letting go of preconceived notions, we open ourselves to experiences we never imagined.

As we wrap up the second week of school and I look back over the emails, communication log, and phone calls, I see this new journey unfolding:

• “Asked good questions!”
• “Understood and expressed his understanding of the lesson.”
• “Showed empathy to a peer—it almost made me cry.”
• “So glad you joined the drama club!”

It’s encouraging to see educators valuing his contributions and supporting his growth. This is what inclusion is all about.

These moments remind me that true understanding starts when we stop trying to fit things into the mold created by our assumptions or past experiences. Authentic inclusion happens when we appreciate each person—student, educator, and parent/caregiver alike—as a unique member of both the team and the school community.

The year is still new, but so far, it’s already showing us the potential of what happens when assumptions are left at the door and possibilities take their place.