I keep thinking about a table. Not a conference room or office desk—but an ordinary table in a basement. Papers were spread across it, probably with coffee and tea cups half-full, and the air buzzed with both fear and determination.
My mom sat there beside other parents, a small group, all of them trying to solve a problem that never should have existed: how to make schools see their children with disabilities as learners, as participants, as people who belonged. How to make it better for them....to be an advocate for so many.
What I remember most about that scene is the fight—the steady, unstoppable drive to make life better. They weren’t asking for favors; they were demanding fairness. They believed that if the right supports were available, every child could show the world what was possible. Also, what I remember is the other professionals that were included in conversations....to advocate and support. There were others ...... teachers and therapists who said, “Let’s try.” They modeled creativity and courage. They reminded me.....as I think back in time now that that inclusion isn’t a slogan—it’s built day by day through patience, collaboration, and belief. Their example shaped the work I do now, and the heart behind Pam’s Den of Creative Fun. The Progress we have witnessed Because of those table advocates, and so many others....we saw transformation. Doors opened. Services expanded. I do believe because of these parents, my mom included...... Families gained the confidence to expect more than “good enough.”
I have come to know so many individuals, groups and have read about so many other advocates. So powerful and so courageous to be those that fought the fight. Those efforts grew into what we now know as Special Education rights—legal, federally protected guarantees that every child deserves access, dignity, and opportunity. That progress changed everything for generations of families.
But lately, I find myself uneasy. The uneasy feeling recently I’ve begun hearing phrases that sound strangely familiar—proposals about “returning power to the states,” about “reducing federal oversight,” about how special education is “too expensive.” Each time, a chill runs through me. I can’t help but wonder: * Have we forgotten how hard these rights were to win?
Do we assume progress is permanent? Are we watching closely enough to notice when protections begin to erode?
I’m not raising an alarm bell out of fear; I’m raising it out of love. Love for the individuals and families who depend on these supports. Love for the colleagues who pour their energy into helping people live full, creative lives. Love for a system that—while imperfect—was built on compassion and courage. Rights are not gifts. They are the result of persistence, faith, and countless kitchen-table conversations like my mother’s. A gentle reflection. Take a moment with me: What supports made the biggest difference for you, your family, or the adults you serve? Which of those would you never want to lose? And how can we make sure the next generation doesn’t have to fight for them all over again?
As an Occupational Therapist of more than forty years, a sibling of an adult with developmental disabilities, and a creative liaison for caregivers, I feel both gratitude and responsibility. My life’s work has always rested on three pillars: Advocate. Create. Teach.
For now, I simply ask that we remember that table in the basement—the fight, the drive, the hope—and keep our eyes open. Because we cannot protect what we do not see.
With care,
Pam Founder,
Pam’s Den of Creative Fun
Occupational Therapist · Sibling Advocate · Creative Liaison