Before my beautiful daughter, McLaine, was born in 2009, I have to admit that disability acceptance was not something I’d really ever thought about. Others have described me as kind, compassionate, and a “champion of the underdog.” My natural tendency was generally to take up for others if I sensed unfairness or unkindness. What I did not understand was that simply being nice and helpful to someone is not the same thing as acceptance. A huge part of the acceptance movement is equality, and viewing someone with a disability only as a person who needs your help is to place yourself above them. There’s actually nothing accepting or equal about that.
And so, my darling daughter unknowingly launched me into the world of advocacy. Through learning about various disabilities, seeking out adults with disabilities to get their valuable perspective, meeting other parents of children with disabilities, and even taking a foray into working in special education, my ideas about disability shifted and changed. Finally, I began to understand what true acceptance was.
When I was in school (like 100 years ago), the special education classes were in a different part of the building, and we never saw “those” kids. Luckily, that is changing every day as more and more schools shift toward inclusive education. The International Day of Acceptance actually couldn’t have fallen on a more appropriate day this year- Inauguration Day. With the complete lack of knowledge about IDEA displayed by nominee for Education Secretary, Betsy DeVos, my prayer is that our new president and his administration will adopt the tenets of the 3e Love movement when it comes to the disabilities community- Embrace, Educate, and Empower! I hope that by the time my little girl enters adulthood, this country will have nailed the whole acceptance thing. Until then, we love life and celebrate this important day/weekend.
My precious giggly girl and I
In honor of this important day, I asked fellow special needs parents what acceptance and this day mean to them:
Bella is completely dependent on others, needs IV’s & medications, has adaptive equipment, a list of diagnoses with words that are hard to pronounce, and numerous specialists that she sees regularly. Despite all this, at the end of the day, to our family, she’s just Bella. Acceptance begins within each of us, in our homes, and in our communities. It means not laughing or making fun of those that are different, and teaching our children that every life has value, and that we are more alike than we are different. I have no doubt the lessons Bella can teach all of us could change the world.
-Julie Yoder
Julie and her daughter, Bella
I am the mom of a 5th grader with cerebral palsy that mostly affects his motor control. However, he is 100% wheelchair bound in a big, 250lb power chair. On its best day, it’s intimidating. But at his elementary school, he has found a group of friends who see past his chair, who see him and want to make sure he’s a part of their day. He’s not excluded simply because he’s different. While I would do anything to give him a “normal” life, I know he’s got friends who see more than “the kid in the chair.” My hope, my prayer, is that we can continue to surround him with people like these who understand, accept and see him for who he is.
-Betsy Sprenger
Gabe rollin’ with the homies
For the last 9 1/2 years I have had the special honor of being a father of a special needs child. In that time my family and I have felt much love, support, and acceptance from our friends, community, and countless others nationwide we’ve never met. While each day should be filled with this same love and acceptance of those in the special needs community, it is of paramount importance that this day is recognized as a time for us all to ensure we love and honor those members of society whose voices are not always easily heard.
-Donald Sorenson
Donald and his daughter, Elisabeth
Acceptance is key-not just today but everyday. God made us all “different.” My special needs daughter Ellie doesn’t see herself as different in a negative way so why should anyone else? Ellie’s influence every day whether she realizes it or not, is bringing instant joy, smiles and love to all she comes in contact with. She embraces herself and her differences just as she is and by doing this she inspires so many others to love one another in spite of our “differences.”
-Christine Steinhauser
Christine and Ellie
Most parents try to raise their child to adapt to the world around them. But when you have a child with a disability, you also have to work to make the world adapt to people who are different. Having an international day of acceptance means taking a moment to show the world what our kids are capable of, and what obstacles they face.
The bad news is there are many obstacles. But they are usually caused by a lack of empathy and awareness — not by the diagnosis itself. So the good news is that they could be very easy to solve, if we open minds and work together.
-Lia Tremblay
Lia and her son, Joe
The International Day of Acceptance means so much to me. It is a day that acknowledges how we must seek to embrace and love all people from all backgrounds.My daughter Maggie is 19-months-old, and, next Tuesday, will be tested for Asperger Syndrome. We are looking forward to having answers and gaining acceptance for her diagnosis. Yes, my child is different. She isn’t up to date with the current milestone standards, but she is perfect as is. Today, I celebrate Maggie and her differences! I praise God for those around us who make life more interesting and fun with their personalities. I choose acceptance!
-Arica Riekeman
Arica and Maggie
How will you celebrate the International Day of Acceptance?
A mostly stay-at-home mom to a spunky six year old diva with an unknown genetic syndrome and a four year old, wild tornado of a boy, Lauren is passionate about faith, family, food, fitness, social media and all things special needs. She prides herself on being awkwardly honest, is a lover of people and immensely enjoys their stories.
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/lauren.cootes
Instagram: https://instagram.com/HonestyandGrace
“Don’t limit a child to your own learning, for he was born in another time.” – Rabindranath Tagore Quietly communing with a loved one in the early morning hours is such an intimate and precious time. Visiting with one’s grown child when all is dark and still is one of life’s purest pleasures. I remember the conversation clearly. My daughter’s husband, small children, and father were all asleep as we whispered and chatted. She and I are both fidgeters by nature, unable to be still for long. This inner restlessness must be remedied, and we are compelled by biology to...
I have spent most of my life in faith. Not circling it or analyzing it from a distance, but inside it—learning its language before I even realized I was learning it, shaping myself around it in ways that felt as natural as breathing. I was raised in Christian Science, which is a very particular kind of faith. It’s not really about “believing” in the way most people think. It’s about understanding. Aligning your thoughts with what is ultimately true about God and reality. If you can understand rightly, you can be well. If you can see clearly, healing follows. So...
Insecurity is something we all carry in one form or another. For me, it has probably always looked confident and outgoing from the outside. But internally, it can feel heavy, complicated, and exhausting at times. And when someone comes along whose behavior reinforces those insecurities, it amplifies what was already there. There was someone I had hoped to genuinely connect with, but it was clear from the start that the feeling wasn’t mutual. From the beginning, their wall was up. No matter how kind I tried to be or how carefully I showed up, it never came down. Their distance...
Hannah knew what it was like to feel forgotten. She often clutched her empty womb and thought Surely the Lord has forgotten me. She knew the bitter sting of feeling isolated and alone. She knew the anguish of praying day after day after day and seeing no fruit, not even a bud, from her faithfulness. Hannah knew what it was like to feel like the weight of the world was on her, and her hope may have dwindled. Even those around her did not offer encouragement. Quite the opposite—they did their best to sow seeds of discouragement. Yet Hannah pressed...
“Ahhh!” My underwater scream garbled in my snorkel tube as the manta ray’s cavernous mouth swept a hand’s distance from my face. My fingers tightened around the surfboard until my knuckles ached. My arms trembled. I jerked my head side to side, searching for my daughters, Mia and Megan. Recent college graduates, they had joined me on one last mother-daughter vacation before launching their adult lives. They floated easily on the vibrant Hawaiian water, relaxed, trusting. I wanted to borrow their calm. Earlier, our guide had explained that the LED lights built into the surfboard attracted plankton the way college...
My pastor frequently speaks of “kid pain” and acknowledges there’s nothing like it. I can testify to that. After nine months of uncertainty and unexplained issues following the birth of our now 4-year-old daughter, Harlow, we finally received her diagnosis of Pyruvate Dehydrogenase Complex Deficiency (PDCD), a life-limiting mitochondrial disease with no cure and no FDA-approved treatments. It was heartbreaking. In moments like these, a parent can fall into complete desperation. You go through a range of emotions almost too fast to name: fear for your child’s life; anxiousness about how much time you’ll get with them; overwhelming grief. And...
There have been many times over the years when I’ve heard others share stories of how the Lord spoke to them or gave them a sign. Seashells scattered along a sandy beach, numbered to represent how many children they would have. A quiet walk in the park, followed by a clear sense that another little one was coming. What a blessing, I think, when I hear and read their stories. I often wonder how much more faith they must have than I do—to know with such certainty that what they heard was truly God speaking. I listen, I smile, and...
She stands in the kitchen, hands trembling over the sink, tears she cannot let fall pressing behind her eyes. The world outside her window is quiet, but inside her heart there is a storm she cannot name. She is hurting, not because she does not love her life, but because somewhere along the way she forgot how to breathe inside it. Yet even in her pain, little voices call her name. Tiny hands tug at her shirt. Lunchboxes need packing, homework needs checking, hearts need holding. And so she wipes her face, forces a smile, and whispers a quiet prayer:...
The night my daughter woke up screaming at 3 a.m., I knew something was wrong. Her cry wasn’t the half-asleep whimper of a bad dream. Instead, it was pain—raw and sharp. Within an hour, we were rushing to the emergency room, the world outside our headlights still wrapped in darkness. Tests, scans, questions, and then the words no parent ever wants to hear: “We’re transferring her to another hospital by ambulance. She needs surgery right away.” They said “torsion.” They said “tumor.” They said “appendix.” I nodded, because that’s what mothers do. We stay steady, even when our hearts are...
Growing up, I was a reluctant Catholic. My mother would drag us to church, and I’d go through the motions—fingers moving across rosary beads without really feeling the prayers. But she never stopped. Sunday Mass, daily prayers, devotions to the Blessed Mother. She was relentless in her faith, not because she was trying to force it on us, but because she genuinely believed we would need it someday. She was right. My mother died of stage 4 colon cancer in 2012. My brother and I watched her suffer, saw how her body betrayed her, watched as treatments failed. And here’s...
By Lauren Cootes 
by Leslie McCaddon 
by Brittany Moore 
by Crystal Ligon 
by Maria Warner 
by Chelsea Drown 
by Megan Kewaza 
by Ashleigh Spurgeon 
by Michelle Moreno-Apolo 
