Can I Play Too?

If you follow my blog then you already know that I am head-over-heels, crazy in love with the work that I am lucky enough to get to do. Promoting, advocating and teaching inclusion to others is my passion, my purpose and an incredible reason to get out of bed every morning and put on grown-up clothes. Just when I think I have reached the depth of my love for it, something happens that pushes the intensity of my passion even further. This time, that thing was Alex.

                                  Alex is (in the middle in the yellow blouse) in a production of Bye, Bye, Birdie. 

Alex was one of my brilliant dance students when I worked as the education director at a youth theatre organization. I first met Alex when she was 8 or 9 years old when she and her older sister were very involved in everything the theatre had to offer. While her sister loved acting and singing, Alex loved to dance. She was bright, expressive, funny and talkative. I can still hear her laugh in my head. She was also a beautiful dancer, even at 9 years old. Alex was all fluidity with gorgeous long limbs and wonderful feet (I know that sounds weird to non-dancers, but feet are very important to a dancer). Once she graduated from high school I rarely saw her, but got occasional updates from her family until that thing called Facebook happened and we reconnected in real time.

This past week Alex sat in my office and we talked about inclusion. Alex is now the 27-year old mother of a beautiful three-year old girl, Izzy, who was diagnosed with autism last year. As Alex shared her story with me, I was blown away by the woman she has become. All the beauty and grace Alex showed as a young dancer, she is now showing as a mother. She told me about how she approached her pediatrician and asked for some additional testing. “Something wasn’t right. I knew it wasn’t,” she told me. “She wasn’t talking at two years old and when she had tantrums they were very, very intense.” The pediatrician told her “parents don’t usually want to have their kids tested.” Once Alex had a diagnosis she began to educate herself. “I found a lot on the internet,” she shared. As a working, single mom, she doesn’t have a lot of time for activities like support groups, but she has created a foundation of agencies, programs and people that have nurtured her family this past year. Izzy attends an inclusive preschool with her cousin who is seven-months younger, and she receives services through the Regional Center. Alex is adamant that people see Izzy for her strengths, and she talks animatedly about how good Izzy is at using technology, her love for art and the progress she is making at learning new skills. “She is already stringing together 5 and 6 word sentences.” It’s important to Alex that people take the time to get to know Izzy, and that once they do they understand that all it takes is a little adjustment and a little patience, and she’ll be able to do anything any other three-year old does.

This is where the road can be rough for a parent of a child with a disability. After telling me that Izzy loves to kick a soccer ball around she told me “So I called a bunch of soccer clubs that offer programs for three-year olds and none of them would take her, because she can’t follow the drills through the cones.” What? Seriously, how many three-years old are interested in or able to do that? It is hearing this kind of story that really gets my hackles up. But, this isn’t why Alex came to see me.

Alex and Izzy will be moving to Mexico this spring. They will be in one of the smaller towns in southern Baja, where Izzy was born, in order to be closer to her father. Alex wants to ensure that Izzy will be included, in pre-school and then elementary school, and in all aspects of community life. She wants KIT’s help and she sees a vision for educating people about disability and inclusion in Mexico. Alex is willing to do whatever it takes, but she can’t do it alone. Together, with Alex, we will spread the message of inclusion so that children like Izzy can truly know belonging, and so that everyone benefits from being a part of a community that reflects human diversity. KIT exists because of children, like Izzy, who want to play soccer but are told they cannot play. It is incredibly important to me that no child ever has to ask, “Can I Play Too? If this is important to you too, please join me in supporting KIT so that Izzy can say, “I can play too!”