It’s hard to put into words what it feels like to spend a week surrounded by people who live and breathe inclusion.

If you’re one of us, you already know. There’s no real equivalent to being in the same space as people who share your passion for this work.

It still catches me off guard how two genuinely opposing things can be true. I left recharged and, honestly, a little shaken by some of the realities that still exist. We have come so far in disability rights, inclusion, and belonging. And we still have so very far to go.

This week, I got to share my “why” with this team, some of the most accomplished inclusionists I know.

I do this work as a parent and a sibling, as an ally, and as someone who believes all of us have inherent worth and value. That we all have things to teach each other. I shared with my colleagues the people who shaped this journey for our family, starting with the very first pediatrician we met the morning after Cooper was born, and stretching through countless educators, service providers, and friends. Their perspective and support have impacted our journey more than I can put into one written piece.

But I also know that much of our inclusion journey has been thanks to me being a redhead from Jersey who has never accepted less than what my son deserves from schools, from society, or from himself. And most of all, it comes from the bravery and joy Cooper has carried into this world each day.

To work alongside this team is something I don’t take lightly. These are people who care deeply about the humanity of every person, the belonging of every student, and the success of every educator. Standing with them feels like standing with pioneers and innovators, giants and explorers, and the kind of people who take the work seriously but never themselves. It’s a privilege I don’t take for granted.

I also want to say something about two of many people who made this week what it was.

If you haven’t spent time with Keith Jones, you’re missing out. He will keep you laughing, and more importantly, he holds one of the most robust understandings of disability history I’ve encountered. He connects that history to the decisions being made today, and why that context matters.

And if you’ve never heard Margo Gross speak, do yourself that favor and find a way. She delivers hard truths with a grace that is rare. Her depth of experience shows up in every story she tells, and she makes it practical and approachable. The message is simple yet important: our daily choices shape whether students experience real belonging.

That’s the work. I’m ready to keep doing it and grateful to be doing it alongside the MCIE team and everyone who showed up for this work this week.

Disclosure: I am a Communications Consultant for the Maryland Coalition for Inclusive Education.