Early Childhood Development: How Easterseals Rio Grande Valley Supports Children and Families

by Blog Writers

By Grant Stoner

Early childhood development is crucial for parents, guardians, and children alike. From providing necessities like food and shelter, to imparting impactful lessons onto children, to ensuring children have quality healthcare, it can be difficult and stressful to consistently and confidently have the resources necessary and readily available. And for parents and guardians of disabled children especially, ensuring your child can have a safe and healthy start to their life can occasionally be a daunting task.

Thankfully, parents and guardians are not alone in their endeavors to care for children. Easterseals Rio Grande Valley offers families, parents, and guardians several resources and tools to help care for children during the early years of their life. Speaking with Easterseals, Executive Director of Easterseals Rio Grande Valley, Pattie Rosenlund, explores the services offered through Early Childhood programs, the importance of supporting children as they grow, and even shares a memorable success story of a client.

What Early Childhood Programs Offer

Caring for a child is often a complex and multifaceted task. Ensuring they have everything they need to successfully and confidently grow into young adults may seem easy on paper, but when factors like costs, available resources, and even disabilities are presented, outside assistance is understandably required. Rosenlund describes Early Childhood services that Easterseals Rio Grande Valley offers, noting that some families may only need one or two, but they have numerous options available.

“We do have an array of programs that really fall under the umbrella of early access and early childhood,” Rosenlund said. “I always consider the heart of our program is our Early Intervention program, the Part C program. In Texas, we do provide, in the natural environment, services. All our staff go into the home or other natural environments like childcare centers. That’s the heart of our programs.”

In Texas, Rosenlund explains that children can be denied Early Childhood Intervention services if the state deems them not eligible. To combat the lack of care when a denial occurs, Easterseals Rio Grande Valley created multiple services that fill the gap for families if needed. For Rosenlund, these programs are crucial to providing families, and more importantly, children, with the care and resources necessary for a healthy life.

“We looked to find other services and found funding through the state of Texas for Home Visiting programs,” Rosenlund said. “We have several model evidence-based programs. One is Parents as Teachers, and that services prenatal to the age of five, or when they start school. What we liked about that is it’s a safety net for [Early Childhood Intervention] if they’re not eligible, but still have concerns. We can use that as a program to continue to monitor [the child’s] development, but it’s also a way to engage families earlier.”

Support Along the Way

Prenatal care is undoubtably important, but a child’s development extends far beyond infancy. Milestones like beginning preschool and kindergarten can be overwhelming, and Rosenlund explains the importance of Easterseals Rio Grande Valley’s educational programs.

“We also have what’s called HIPPY program, it’s another evidence-based program that is Home Instruction for Parents of Preschool Youngsters,” Rosenlund said. “That is a program that families [use to] just really focus on school readiness. Parents as Teachers has more developmental learning in a broader scope. HIPPY is really focusing on school readiness. [HIPPY] serves two-year-olds, because kids are starting school so much earlier, all the way up to age five when they start school.”

Beyond the need to prepare children for school, Easterseals Rio Grande Valley also offers programs for children coming from abusive situations. Rosenlund explains that when a child is placed within Child Protective Services, Easterseals Rio Grande Valley can enter the environment and work with guardians or even parents to ensure the child is still receiving proper life skills and education. Rosenlund notes that the creation of this program is fundamentally different to others because of the nature of the home environment.

“Our Parents as Teachers program, although serves the age range, doesn’t necessarily meet the need, because it’s meeting parents where they are, and it’s much more collaborative,” Rosenlund said. “We needed something much more direct. We started the Safe Care program, and that is another evidence-based program that has three modules and works very direct with the parent on health, safety, and parent-child interaction. With that program, you do a preassessment and you really must demonstrate competency to move out of that unit and complete it.”

Success Stories

The goals of each program within Easterseals Rio Grande Valley are to ultimately ensure a child is set up for success and safety. Whether it’s learning crucial life skills or teaching parents and guardians how to best support their growing child, the resources that Easterseals Rio Grande Valley provides are beneficial beyond the first five years of a child’s life. And for one former client, Rosenlund acknowledges the importance and value of watching these programs succeed, especially at the annual dinner event honoring the community and humanitarians.

“The success really comes in the evening, when Matteo, our [Early Childhood Intervention] graduate came onto the stage to really talk about [the evening’s] experience,” Rosenlund said. “He was in our program only weeks after he was born, and he was born, unbeknownst to his parents, with multiple heart anomalies – over 10 to 15 holes in his heart. His eye hadn’t developed, and he had problems breathing. We were there with him as a baby. He took the stage and very confidently told his story. He wrote a poem about ‘I’m Just a Boy,’ and won the crowd over.”

Easterseals Rio Grande Valley is a shining example of the importance of educating and caring for young children. As they grow and learn crucial life skills, Easterseals Rio Grande Valley is there to aid everyone involved. Ensuring future generations have quality care and tools to aid them in adulthood is something Rosenlund is proud to promote and support.

“I think it’s so important to have these early education programs,” Rosenlund said. “I can say through all our programs, supporting parents, and building on their protective factors, we really want to help them develop their skills. Just to make sure that we’re there in that critical time that’s so important, not only for the child, but for the parent.”

To learn more about Easterseals Rio Grande Valley, visit their website or search for an Easterseals location near you.

Just Ask: Advocacy and Interacting with Disabled People

by Blog Writers

By Alicia Krage

I’ve been blind practically from birth. I had vision for a month, so I obviously don’t remember it. So in my mind, while there are likely visual memories stored from my very early days of life, being blind is the only life I’ve known. That being said, I’m very used to advocating for all kinds of things — inclusion and accessibility, mostly.

This might sound a bit negative, but this world was not designed for people with disabilities. If it was, we’d always have audio description, wheelchair accessible entrances, ride-share drivers ready and willing to take passengers and their service animals, etc. But sadly, this is not the case. We have to find resources for audio-described content. We have to report ride-share drivers who won’t accept a guide dog. We have to make companies aware if their apps or websites don’t work with screen-reading software. I’ve gotten pretty used to that, and while it does frustrate me more often than not, it’s also a lesson in how to make others aware. I don’t think it’s always intentional. Not all companies have an accessibility team full of screen-reader users, for example, who know the inner workings of it all and how it should work with navigating apps and websites. So we educate. We inform people what our access needs are. And when we encounter people who may offer to help too much when we’re out and about, we tell them if we need help or not — and if we do, we tell them how to help us.

I don’t mind doing these things, because the only way for people to know how to accommodate us is for us to educate them, and it teaches us to be advocates of the disabled community. I think it also helps others become comfortable asking what we need, or how we do things, or how they can help. In the end, that’s all I want. All I want is for people to ask and educate.

I know that for some, I am the first blind person someone has ever encountered, whether it’s close friends I have now and we were once strangers, or ride-share drivers or even airport staff. It isn’t news to me, and I don’t mind. But sometimes I think that people are so nervous to ask us questions that they’d either rather (1) help in the way they think is appropriate, or (2) assume they know what we need or where we’re going. As frustrating as this can be to navigate, I’m learning that most people do have good intentions.

When I’m out and about in the world, I have a lot of respect for those who are very upfront about the fact that they don’t know how to guide me. It’s the same kind of comfort you get from talking to someone about something difficult and they say, “I don’t know what to say, but I’m listening.” I know that we’re all human, therefore we don’t always have the right answers or take the right actions, but being transparent about that is much appreciated, especially for me. People who just flat out ask, “How do I guide you?” Or, “I’m new to this, what would help you?” goes a long way. This happens to me a lot at Southwest Airlines when navigating airports. Often times, they’re used to assisting disabled passengers, but as we know, “disability” is a broad term and can mean all types of disabilities. They may have more experience with another disability that isn’t blindness. In these cases, I’ve had a lot of airport assistance just ask me how to help, and I think that’s so important for non-disabled people to do. You won’t know our access needs and accommodations if we don’t tell you. And in order for us to tell you, you have to ask. We don’t ever expect you to just know, but we do expect respect.

Unfortunately, this doesn’t always happen, and since relocating from my hometown and transitioning from suburban life to a big city, it sometimes feel like I’ve had to start from scratch. While Houston does seem to have a familiarity with blindness, I encounter people who get flustered and uncertain sometimes. Sometimes it’s as simple as correcting them (“I’ll take your arm,” when they take hold of my wrist to guide me), and other times it’s having to stand my ground a little. I’m working on finding the line between educating others politely and being assertive. Because a lack of knowledge is one thing, but disrespect is another whole other ball game that I feel like maybe I have been tolerating for too long. I think it’s okay to give people the benefit of the doubt sometimes, but not always.

Recently, I was going with a friend to get her nails done. She’s also blind. When we got off the bus and were heading toward the doors, someone approached us and asked if we needed help. My friend replied with a polite “no thank you.” After being asked two more times, there was a bit of a pause before I then heard her tell them that she didn’t need help and to please not touch her. Often times, people will put their hands on our shoulders to steer us, or often grab our arm to turn us in the right direction, even though we said no and even though we aren’t lost. Sometimes this happens without even asking if we need help, and as you can probably imagine, can be pretty startling. But watching her navigate this situation and using an assertive tone but not being overly aggressive made me realize that I have let others take away my autonomy for far too long. People won’t know what I need and what’s okay and what’s not okay unless I tell them. If I tell them that isn’t okay and educate them, this’ll benefit both of us.

I’m learning that maybe that’s how we advocate. Maybe we watch others. Maybe we see the way others conduct themselves and follow in their footsteps. At least, that’s how I want to learn. I want to surround myself with people who are good at educating others on their access needs but also being firm about their boundaries. And you can make this easier by just asking how to help. Ask and educate.

Alicia Krage is a graduate of Northern Illinois University. She relocated to Houston, Texas in early 2023 where she found a great community of people with disabilities. She has a passion for writing, centering her posts on advocacy, inclusivity, and relationships as a totally blind person.

Navigating Isolation and Ableism During the Holidays

by Blog Writers

By Leah Smith

‘Tis the season to be jolly, or so the saying goes. But what if you aren’t? While the holidays can offer opportunities to gather with family and loved ones, they can also bring feelings of loneliness and isolation, especially if you’re not able to be with your (chosen) family for any number of reasons. With 11 different holidays packed into the month of December alone, it can often feel as if everyone but you is surrounded by people who love them.

The experience of isolation is something many disabled folx face year-round, but it can feel especially overwhelming during the holidays. The holidays are often framed as a time for family gatherings, socializing, and celebration. There is a societal expectation to be surrounded by loved ones, engaging in festive activities. Depending on one’s disability, physical, emotional, or logistical barriers—such as difficulty attending large gatherings, pain, or the lack of an accessible space—can make this idealized version of the holidays feel out of reach. The pressure to conform to these expectations can intensify feelings of loneliness and exclusion.  

Ableism, stigma, and a lack of accessibility are just a few of the barriers that often pave the way for this sense of loneliness. Ableism, simply put, is the discrimination people with disabilities experience. During the holidays, ableism can take many forms, both overt and subtle, and can amplify feelings of isolation, exclusion, and marginalization for disabled individuals. For those who are neurodivergent, this ableism might be experienced in the pressure to conform to social norms or participate in celebrations. For those who have mental health disabilities, ableism can be in the pressure to be “happy.” And for those with physical disabilities, an inaccessible event space or a lack of accessible bathrooms can send clear messages about whether or not a person belongs at this event. Many holiday gatherings and public events—whether they are family dinners, office parties, or festive celebrations—are not designed with accessibility in mind. However, there are also ways we, as disabled people, can push back against these barriers and challenge the assumptions about ‘disability’ and ‘community’ that often get in our way the most. 

First, if you are reading this article as an ally to the disability community, there are a few things you can do to help us mitigate the isolation we face. Addressing ableism and stigma in yourself and in your community can be one of the most impactful. As Andrew Pulrang so eloquently noted in his article 7 Things Disabled People Have to Think About Every Day, “The goal is to foster practical knowledge of disabled life, so disabled people’s needs might be better anticipated, and so their requests for accommodations are more readily accepted and met, rather than doubted, picked apart, and denied.” 

What is Ableism Anyway?

Talila Lewis’ working definition of ableism is my favorite, as it so nicely illustrates the intersectionality of ableism with other systems of oppression, like racism, sexism, and capitalism. Intersectionality is the idea that one’s identity consists of multiple overlapping categories, such as disability, race, gender, class, and/or sexual orientation. Many people with disabilities are not just disabled but experience other marginalized identities in which their experience is also framed.

Fighting ableism is one big way we can all address isolation in the disability community.  From my perspective, this fight requires a combination of personal reflection, systemic changes, and cultural shifts in attitudes and beliefs. Ableism can manifest in many forms, from individual biases to structural barriers and can all lead to the social isolation of people with disabilities. From decades of experience from disability activists and allies, to effectively challenge ableism, we must approach it from multiple angles. This includes, education, advocacy, allyship, creating more inclusive environments, and ensuring we have disabled voices at every table.  

The Disability Community 

Photo from Disabled and Here, photographed by Chona Kasinger.

As for those reading this in the disability community, you are not the only one feeling alone and isolated. Sometimes loneliness and isolation are referred to as the “invisible enemy,” but, without a doubt, research shows that we’re facing a mental health crisis in our community. In fact, 61% of disabled people say they are experiencing chronic loneliness. Further, 70% of young disabled people (ages 16 to 24) report feeling lonely “always” or “often” (sense.org). However, when in the depths of feeling isolated, I can guarantee that it doesn’t feel like you are actually part of the majority in this experience.

Unfortunately, the health risks of feeling prolonged loneliness and isolation are equivalent to smoking 15 cigarettes a day and can further cause depression, pain, or fatigue (chrt.org). But if you’ve ever experienced being socially isolated, I don’t have to explain these statistics to you. You’ve felt them. It simply feels awful to not feel included in any given community.

So, What Can We Do About It?

It seems to me that while fighting ableism and ensuring spaces are accessible for all of us might be one of the first steps, joining community comes even before that. Joining the larger disability community in the fight against discriminating policies, social norms, and attitudes can be an incredibly powerful experience. Maybe this means following other disabled people on social media, reading a book by a disabled author, or forming friendships with other disabled people in your community. But in whatever capacity makes sense for you, joining other disabled people to break some of the unspoken rules nondisabled people hold for disabled people can be a huge step in resisting the ableism and stigma we experience. I have personally seen people with varying disabilities break these unspoken rules by collectively not worrying about how loud they are being in a public setting, as some members of the group are hard of hearing; or by going out for a drink when some in the group have an intellectual disability (drinking for someone with an intellectual disability is often seen as forbidden, even when they are of age); or when a group of Little People collectively take on someone who has taken their picture without consent. Pushing back against systemic ableism and stigma simply requires us to band together. As a reminder for myself included, community, joy, and rest are all forms of resistance.    

While the holidays can often amplify feelings of isolation for disabled people, they also present an opportunity to reflect on the systemic barriers that contribute to this sense of loneliness and to think about ways we can resist them. Whether through addressing ableism within our own lives, advocating for accessibility, or building more inclusive communities, we can all play a part in fostering a world where disabled individuals are not left at the margins. For those who experience loneliness, remember that you are not alone in this struggle—many of us share these feelings, and together, we can create spaces where joy, connection, and belonging are not reserved for some, but available to all. In the fight against ableism and stigma, community, rest, and collective resistance are not just political acts; they are essential for our well-being and survival. As we move through this season and into 2025, let’s keep in mind that resistance starts with solidarity—and sometimes, the greatest form of resistance is simply choosing to be in community with one another.

Leah Smith is the Associate Director of the National Center for Disability, Equity, and Intersectionality. Leah intentionally uses identity-first language throughout her writing as a way to resist the notion that disability is something negative or should be avoided. By using identity first language, she hopes to convey the idea that disability is an integral and positive part of who she is.  

Finding Community in Gaming and Discord

by Blog Writers

By Mids Meinberg

Community is an ever-precious commodity, for everyone, everywhere. In community, people find support and conversation and a mutual understanding. Only by working together can we hope to achieve truly great things, and the community is the first step in that. For most of human history, community had been organized around physical spaces, but now truly communal spaces are slowly disappearing. Add in the difficulties that disabled people have getting to physical spaces in general due to the inaccessibility of transit, and disabled people are more bereft of these traditional communities.

There is another way, though, and that is through the creation of online communities.

Some of the first uses of the internet for general use (which is to say, not for the military or for research institutions) were Bulletin Board Systems (BBSes). These were essentially very early forums, and allowed people who knew how to find them to communicate together, gathering information and just chatting. The very first public dial-up BBS was put into effect in 1978, as a way for friends to communicate when the Great Chicago Blizzard prevented transit.

Since then, networks of connections have expanded and the specific ways that people communicate online have evolved. From forums to chat messengers to social media to video game streaming, the internet has created digital spaces for communities to be brought to life. Much of my youth was spent playing games online with people who were once strangers, spread across the world, but after years of playing together, we had become friends.

Not all of these communities have been the healthiest, but the same could be said for all communities. There is always some degree of risk associated with opening oneself up to be vulnerable to a group of people, but it’s a necessary risk to keep from becoming entirely isolated in a world that so often seeks to separate us.

Online spaces benefit from being very accessible. Computer technology has reached the point where almost everyone can use the internet, so long as they have the right accessibility tools available. The ability to access the internet from home is great for people with mobility disabilities and those that cannot otherwise get to places. The emphasis on just words, rather than words and non-verbal communication, (except in easily parsable emojis) also makes text communication much easier for many neurodivergent people. The ability of multiple people to write at once and have a legible conversation helps a lot with me, as otherwise my social anxiety makes it difficult to know when it’s okay for me to talk.

Gaming has become a very major focus for communities online. Thinking about most kinds of media (broadly speaking) is something that can be done alone, and then shared. The kinds of tools that help to analyze one work in a medium apply to all works, i.e. knowing how to look at the themes of one book allows a person to look at themes in all books. Playing video games, however, does require new strategies for each game, which mostly takes the forms of guides and guidance from peers, rather than publisher-printed strategy guides. Video games thrive when in conversation, with players helping each other to overcome challenges and learn about secrets in order to master the games, and these conversations are happening online.

Many games are also best played with a group, and so having spaces to organize playing together makes sense, and as those organizational spaces become places for discussion around the game, it’s inevitable for the conversations to broaden and become the seed of a proper community.

Discord is a chat program that allows individuals to host servers that others can join. The servers can be aligned around any theme, though usually they have a hobby or a personality at their core. For example, popular streamers typically have their own Discord servers and most individual games also have their own Discords. Particularly large multiplayer games will have multiple Discords, organized around people who play it together.

Discord is one of the most popular apps for community creation. This is partially because invites can be shared freely, and partially because a given server is broken up into different channels. Channels then are about specific subjects, allowing for a more organized flow of conversation. Typically, the primary subject of the server has multiple channels devoted to it, but there are also channels for general discussion, link sharing, and other off-topic conversations.

While the primary purpose of a given Discord remains important, it’s these side channels that really elevate Discord’s ability to create a community. A space to unwind and just enjoy spending time with others online is necessary to create a space that is more than purely functional. In these side channels, participants can get to know each other as people, to offer emotional support in difficult times, to provide distractions from day-to-day stresses, and to commiserate in shared difficulties.

In this way, the sort of digital spaces offered by Discord are especially ideal for disabled people, as it removes the barriers that are often present in physical spaces and provides a space where disabled people can freely discuss their disability with others who might be across the globe, but sharing in a similar struggle against ableism.

ES Gaming, powered by Easterseals, has a Discord community where disabled and non-disabled gamers can meet and talk with each other. Solutions to inaccessible controls can be workshopped, multiplayer games can be organized, and all-in-all the participants are able to know that they are not alone in their identity and their interests.

Gaming might seem somewhat trivial in terms of the grander issues of the world, but to some degree that is its power. It is entertainment, and in that entertainment players are able to find a degree of control. In addition, games are a major medium in the world, a part of the global culture. Though games are not always accessible, people working in all parts of the industry are doing their best to improve that, with sensitivity editors, disabled play-testers, and accessible controller manufacturers leading the way.

ES Gaming also runs streams where disabled people are given the focus. Disabled gamers are disproportionately under-represented in streaming, and ES Gaming is doing its best to change that, to create a community where disabled faces are put to the forefront, rather than relegated to the background. ES Gaming regularly runs special streaming events where community members can take part in the games and just have a good time together.

Mids Meinberg is a writer and game designer working out of New Jersey. They have an AA in Creative Writing from Brookdale Community College.

When Will Freedom be Mine?

by Blog Writers

By Keah Brown

I am a person who traffics in hope. Hope is my favorite word, and I even have it tattooed on my left arm. But I find that lately, hope has been elusive, sneaking out of my bedroom before sunrise, ghosting me like an attractive person on a dating app. I move forward because I have to, not necessarily because I always want to. Something I learned from a very young age is that most things are not easy. As a woman with cerebral palsy, I have spent my life adapting to the world around me in order to survive. I have had to find workarounds for broken stair railings, inoperable elevators, and a lack of places to rest my body when it gives out in public places. In a society hellbent on productivity and efficiency, I have had to live my life by the guide of “I’ll figure it out.” no matter how long it may take. I have figured out ways to get dressed, type, eat, play piano, zip up coats, put my hair into a ponytail unassisted and more, with the full use of only one hand. The journey wasn’t easy, and, on some days, I still find myself asking for help when I am on a deadline or time crunch, but I am proud of all that I have accomplished in my body. So, yes, I am not the wet dream of productivity and efficiency that America prides itself on. Still, my existence matters, and the way I chose to present myself to the world despite its ideas of my believed inherent worthlessness as a person who “fails” at being the model of the American dream, is worthy of respect and care. I will not acknowledge anything less.  

Photo of Keah by Grayley’s Moon.

Recently, I flew to New York City to see Suffs: The Musical, a musical about the journey for white women to get the right to vote. I have always loved musicals; I am currently co-writing one. What surprised me was how moved I was by the show. I was grateful for the inclusion of the difference in journey between the black and white women. I watched with teary eyes as Ida B. Wells, played by Nikki M. James, sang about constantly being told to wait her turn. The irony lies in the fact that, today, Black women are told the same. I cannot and will not speak for all Black women as we are not a monolith. However, I am dog-tired. I am so tired of the constant work of being the one who thinks of the greater good, who understands that as a Black woman in my every identity, I am considered the lowest rung on the ladder. I think about a world that would rather I not exist. The myth of the strong Black woman is just that. Black women are magical, sure, but we are human more importantly. 

However, the plea I find myself asking for is not a plea to the people too far gone to ever care about people like me: disabled, Black, queer, and a woman, but a plea to those of us who do care. When you have had to fight tooth and nail to exist in a world not designed for you or interested in your wellbeing, you learn that the only person eager and willing to share the journey of how you continue to fight is you. If we do not address the -isms now, progress will be harder to make in the future. All I want is freedom, and I want to make that desire known. I have always believed in speaking the things I want most into existence. As woo-woo as it sounds, it has worked for me more times than I can count. So, all I want is freedom. The freedom to be my full self: Black, disabled, queer, messy, awkward, eager, and more. I want to rest both physically and mentally while looking out for and sharing space with the people who have always done the same with me. I want to be selfish and angry; I don’t want to pretend like everything is okay. I feel like I have been doing that for far too long and the only person suffering because of that choice is me. I want to take off the white Olivia Pope hat and close the curtains from the comfort of a couch and my favorite romcoms. I don’t have the answers and I won’t go looking for them just yet. The only thing I need to concern myself with is my own safety, happiness, and dreams. As far as hope goes, I would love for it to return to me before the year is out and give me something worthwhile to hold onto.

Keah Brown is a writer, journalist, and disability rights advocate known for her impactful work on the intersection of disability, race, and self-love. As the creator of the viral hashtag #DisabledAndCute, Brown promotes body positivity and self-acceptance for disabled people. Her works include The Pretty One, The Secret Summer Promise, and Sam’s Super Seats.

Different is Not Wrong: Mental Health and Neurodivergence

by Blog Writers

By Mids Meinberg

Slowly, the world is coming into a greater understanding of the effects of mental illness. Despite this, there are still many who view those with mental health disabilities as broken. They might also think that we are wrong in the way that we look at the world and at ourselves. In truth, there are undeniably downsides to some kinds of mental illness, but these downsides do not make us any less or worse than other people, and it does not mean that we are inherently wrong. We are just different, and our differences should be celebrated and embraced.

Of course, this is complicated by the relationship between mental illness and neurodivergence. Neurodivergence refers to people who have different ways of looking at the world because of a neurological condition. Many neurodivergent people do not see their disability to be mental illness, though the conditions that cause neurodivergence have been considered to be mental illnesses in the past. Examples of neurodivergent conditions include autism, ADHD, and learning disabilities.

Neurodivergent activists as well many other disabled people are very clear that they do not need to be cured, but rather they see their disability as an integral part of their identity. Attempting to remove this part of a person would be like trying to cure someone of being gay, something unconscionable to any compassionate person, but with a deeply tragic history of being attempted. There is no denying, though, that having ADHD or a learning disability makes it hard to navigate society, but this difficulty can be mediated in many ways, through accommodations, medication, and services, but most importantly with compassion, care, and understanding from those in the lives of the neurodivergent person.

People with mental illnesses, however, tend to have a more complicated relationship with their disability than neurodivergent people. Indeed, some mental illnesses are inherently temporary, like a case of major depression following a traumatic event. Some come and go, cycling in and out of the person’s life, like Seasonal Affective Disorder. Some cause great difficulty in interacting with others, like social anxiety. And some are greatly villainized to such an extreme that having them is seen as being “evil,” like narcissism or borderline personality disorder.

My most prominent mental illness, chronic depression, is something that I do struggle against. It makes it harder for me to do the things that I need to do, and it makes me find less joy in the things that I want to do. It reduces my capability to act in the world, and, when combined with my other mental illnesses, makes it very difficult for me to form and maintain strong interpersonal relationships. But, this is why I have therapy and medication to help mediate the worst symptoms of my depression.

Indeed, most mental illnesses can be made more manageable with therapy, medication, and other forms of care. Even with these aids, though, most mental illnesses cannot be cured, cannot be completely removed. Even if I could be cured completely, though, I would not want it.

I have talked many times about how my depression has helped to shape my worldview, helped me to think about where I stand in society, and what society truly means, in ways that someone without depression simply could not. A concept called depressive realism suggests that people without depression inherently have a slightly higher view of themselves than is strictly accurate. This slight self-bias is almost certainly a healthy thing, necessary in a world that can be so casually cruel to those who are not able to stand up for themselves.

So while my perspective may hurt me, it does help me see the world slightly more clearly, forming a foundation that I have expanded upon as I’ve continued to live with my depression. The treatment I receive for my depression also helps me from sliding too far in the other direction with my views, helping me to achieve a balance that is only possible through the intersection of my mental illness and my continued existence within society.

I have only my lived experience with mental illness to rely on in terms of finding the strength in my thinking, but I can see how a person with borderline personality disorder could use their self-perspective to be excellent promoters of themselves and the things they care about. Well-crafted coping mechanisms for social anxiety, created with the aid of therapy, can help a person to create space in a healthy way in conversations.

This is also the case for neurodivergent people, though neurodivergent people have become increasingly vocal at advocating for their value and the value of their perspective in society. Mentally ill people can follow the lead of neurodivergent activists in becoming prominent advocates for themselves, and for the proper care for their disabilities. Socially ostracizing narcissists will not help them to better balance the needs of others. Sticking schizophrenic people in mental institutions where they cannot be seen will not help them to find the inner understanding they may need. Telling depressed people to be happier will only make us more miserable.

But despite the difficulties that come with mental illnesses, we are not broken. We are not monsters, we are not anything other than human. Unfortunately, there are those in our culture that seek to demonize all people with mental illnesses, to make us seem dangerous and a threat to the well-being of an ordered society. They see the ways that we struggle against the constraints of the day-to-day, of the ways that we are constantly let down by systems of oppression, and these people see the problem as us.

But we aren’t the problem. We are human, with all the imperfections and grace that comes with our species. We aren’t a threat, we aren’t a burden. We’re just different, and our different experiences and perspectives add to the complexity and beauty of our society.

Mids Meinberg is a writer and game designer working out of New Jersey. They have an AA in Creative Writing from Brookdale Community College.

A How-To Guide to Inclusive Language, and Why It Matters

by Blog Writers

By Mids Meinberg

Language inherently has a history; it’s derived from the society in which it was derived, but the meanings of words subtly change as they are filtered through contemporary culture. While the denotation of words (their dictionary definition) rarely changes, the connotation (the extra cultural meaning of a word) changes much more frequently. With more and more people gaining access to the telecommunication networks of the world via the internet, more people are able to put their input into the language we use and the meanings behind them.

In many cases, this means pointing out words that, while once commonplace, carry with them negative connotations, particularly with regard to marginalized groups. While I am disabled and queer, this does not give me universal access to the feelings of all marginalized people. In particular, I cannot speak in specifics about the role of inclusive language when it comes to people of color. Hopefully the general guidance provided here will provide a foundation for further learning about those specifics.

When talking about inclusive language, it is important to understand why people should not use words that are rooted in bigoted notions. The idea from Orwell’s 1984 that language restricts our thoughts is perhaps hyperbolic, but it is true that the way people speak about things reflects the way that we think about them.

For example, the word “lame” is very often used to refer to anything boring or underwhelming. However, it literally refers to a difficulty with walking deriving from injury or disability to the foot or leg. When “lame” is used in the connotative sense to mean these negative things, it can be easy to start thinking about people with disabilities affecting their movement as boring.

Now, this is not a guaranteed thing to happen. Most people can hold these two definitions separate in their minds. In fact, this process more frequently happens in reverse, where people begin to develop negative connotations to groups of people and then apply those feelings to the words used to describe those people. With disabled people, a lot of these words had their negative connotations assigned a long time ago to the point that it can be hard to know what words exactly have origins in bigotry.

In other cases, the linguistic shift has happened in recent memory. For example, the word “special” was used to refer to developmentally disabled people in an attempt to deflect from the heated connotations associated with the previous word used to describe them, the r-slur. Unfortunately, since society still at large holds extremely negative views regarding developmentally disabled people, using “special” to refer to a person rather quickly came to have the same sort of connotation as the r-slur.

Every term used to refer to queer people, including now widely accepted words like queer and gay but also less widely reclaimed slurs, has had a negative connotation at some point or another. “Gay” came to have connotations similar to “lame” while “queer” had a meaning that was built entirely upon alienating the target of the term, focusing on their role as an Other. Over time, efforts have been made to reclaim the use of these words, by separating them from their negative connotations and using them more specifically. Queer, for instance, has been reclaimed in large part to its use in academia, with queer studies taking on an important role in normalizing queer people. Gay, in contrast, has become reclaimed by informal conversations on the internet, with queer people of all kinds rallying behind it as a term they can embrace as part of their identity.

This points to the second major reason to use inclusive language: it helps the speaker to avoid looking like a bigot. We all screw up and use non-inclusive language in our informal speech; non-inclusive language is the default and we have to work to actively deprogram our minds from its usage, which is always going to be a work in progress. In formal speech or even when addressing a group of coworkers in an email, however, it’s important to be more diligent about inclusive language. If a set of prepared remarks contains non-inclusive language, it communicates to the listeners that the speaker does not care about the affected marginalized group.

There is a clear distinction here between slurs and non-inclusive language, however. Slurs should never be used, regardless of the context, though this is much easier thanks to the inherent hatred involved in a slur. As long as one does not hold active hatred towards the target of a slur, then the power of the word will be evident before it is said, allowing for its use to be prevented.

Another difference is that it is possible to use words that might be non-inclusive in contexts where their usage is in fact inclusive. For example, using the word “blind” to refer to someone being ignorant is non-inclusive, but using it to refer to someone who literally cannot see is fine. Indeed, the precise words for disabilities when used specifically to those disabilities is almost always a perfectly acceptable thing to do. Disability is not a slur and embracing being disabled as an identity helps to grant strength to disabled people, both in the general and with their specific disabilities.

There are some words, however, that are more general in their relationship to disability and thus should not be used by non-disabled people, like “crip” or “gimp.” These words still hold a larger amount of power in them, largely in how they had been weaponized against disabled people in the past. However, some disabled people have taken these words and harnessed their power, using them as a vibrant and striking form of self-identification. Even though these words have been used to hurt in the past, that history makes them a powerful symbol of unity and the changing tides of history when used by disabled people.

Ultimately, the key to understanding inclusive language is understanding that language has power, it has meaning beyond what you can find in the dictionary. By using language well and with understanding of the people who are most likely to be affected by it, you can use that power to bridge gaps rather than widen them.

In summary:

• Language subtly affects how we think about the world.
• Language is shaped by society’s perception.
• Avoid using words in a way that assigns negative connotations to marginalized groups.
• Using words literally is usually fine.
• Slurs should never be used by anyone outside of the targeted group.

Some examples:

• Don’t use blind to mean ignorant
• Don’t use deaf to mean callous
• Don’t use gay to mean bad
• Don’t use lame to mean boring
• Use non-verbal instead of dumb or mute
• Use little people to describe people with dwarfism

Mids Meinberg is a writer and game designer working out of New Jersey. They have an AA in Creative Writing from Brookdale Community College.

Empowering Inclusion: Easterseals Colorado’s Support for Disabled Individuals in the Workforce

by Blog Writers

By Grant Stoner

Henry (left) and an employment participant. Photo provided by Easterseals Colorado

Last month, disabled individuals celebrated National Disability Employment Awareness Month (NDEAM), a time to raise awareness about the importance of workplace acceptance for disabled individuals. From freelancing to full-time work, every person deserves equal access to a welcoming and safe work environment.

For disabled people, entering the workforce can be a daunting task. Self-advocating for necessary accommodations, not exceeding income limits for those on state or federal services, and even finding jobs that offer remote opportunities are just some of the barriers that are regularly encountered. Employment Specialist Henry DeAngelis of Easterseals Colorado understands the challenges that disabled people face, especially as many seek employment for the first time. Speaking with our Easterseals blog, DeAngelis explores the work he performs at Easterseals Colorado, and even shares some success stories from some of his clients.

The Right to Work

Seeking employment is intrinsic to both nondisabled and disabled people. Working a job is necessary to make a living, provide meaningful community connections, and even help to learn new skills for future opportunities. And for DeAngelis, assisting the disabled people of Colorado is important to normalizing and embracing disabled individuals and accessibility within jobs.

“My main job is to be the liaison between the clients and the employer,” DeAngelis said. “So, making sure that that relationship is going smoothly, and mainly my job is to help work through any issues that arise. Whether this is as simple as making sure the client knows what their schedule is, and when they are expected to show up and where, whether it may be helping them request a day off or vacation time, or sometimes larger issues if a task isn’t done right.”

Photo provided by Easterseals Colorado.

Beyond these goals, DeAngelis also assists disabled individuals in adapting to new work tasks or routines as their employer changes over time. Part of this involves teaching digital literacy, an important tool in an ever-evolving digital landscape. According to DeAngelis, statistics indicate that approximately 90% of jobs in the workforce require some form of technological understanding. And for disabled individuals that either lack appropriate digital tools or the knowledge to operate them, DeAngelis and the Easterseals Colorado team provide a safe environment to learn or retrain digital skills.

“We’ve been developing [the digital literacy training program] for a few years,” he said. “A lot of what people might think of as the basics of being able to clock in and clock out. If there’s any type of training that needs to be done, like logging into websites with the account, clicking through the training, making sure everything goes smoothly.”

Digital literacy is especially important for disabled youth. As classrooms adopt digital lessons, especially in the aftermath of the COVID-19 pandemic, DeAngelis, through Job Exploration and Transition Training (JETT), teaches disabled children how to operate programs like Word, Excel, PowerPoint, and even helps clients create and understand digital resumes that they can share with prospective employers. Thankfully, Easterseals Colorado is not alone with these efforts. DeAngelis explains that there is currently a national partnership with technology company IBM to provide courses to clients that allow them to stay current with their knowledge, while simultaneously providing certificates of completion, thus bolstering resumes.

“Right now, [IBM] has a big course on AI and just understanding it,” he said. “AI hasn’t fully integrated into work yet, but a lot of companies are experimenting with it, seeing where it might be useful, finding out where it maybe isn’t. It’s something that we must keep our eyes on and see where the trends are going so that we can make sure to help our clients stay caught up.”

Success Stories

DeAngelis’ goal is to ensure that clients can successfully enter and stay within the workforce, regardless of their chosen occupation. Not only does each client enjoy their work at their respective jobs, but they also help to normalize disabled people in the workforce. And for DeAngelis, each disabled individual placed within a company or business is a fantastic reward for every party involved.

Photo provided by Easterseals Colorado.

“Success stories are the best part of the job,” he said. “That reward of seeing a client be successful, be happy, and obtain their goals, there is no better feeling. It makes me so excited and happy to go to work every day and help clients reach their goals, push toward their goals, and even discover what their goals might be.”

DeAngelis notes that one client is ready to transition to a full-time career. Through the help of Easterseals Colorado, and several years of preparing for this moment, the client, as well as his current company, agreed to a full-time position. But each story of success does not end with a full-time job. Rather, DeAngelis’ job is to help disabled individuals embrace their needs and recognize when they require assistance.

“One of our clients, for many years, had been working two days a week,” he said. “In the past couple months, I noticed he had a lot of extra strain and stress. I had a conversation with him and his team, and I said, ‘I know how much your job means to you. Walking around the store with you is like walking down a red carpet with all the high-fives from regular customers and coworkers.’ It’s a real point of pride and identity for this client.”

The solution was to take the client from two shifts to one. DeAngelis explains that his energy levels returned, he is still able to interact with his community, and remain employed. This story also demonstrates the importance of advocating for accommodations within the workspace. If the client did not recognize this need, they would have experienced burnout, and possibly had to leave their job.

Finding a job is already an immense challenge. And for disabled individuals, the numerous barriers that often accompany job searching, and employment overall, can be overwhelming. For DeAngelis and the team at Easterseals Colorado, these barriers can be dismantled to provide fulfilling employment opportunities.

“In this go, go, go world, where everything needs to be, or seems to be, needing a snap judgment and decision, [we really need to] remember that we’re all human, we’re all doing our best, and we all have something to give back,” he said. “Our clients want to give back.”

Visit the Easterseals Colorado website to learn more about their services. Thank you to Henry DeAngelis for providing an interview.

My Mental Health and Me: My Journey to Finding Words Again

by Blog Writers

Photo of Keah by Greyley’s Moon.

By Keah Brown

My journey as a writer began when I was eight years old. I sat on a twin-sized bed in my room curled up with a green college-ruled notebook whose cover read, “Keep Out! Property of Keah Brown.” The contents ranged from poetry to songs and short stories — poorly written, I must admit, but necessary for my growth nevertheless. Inside this notebook were hopes and dreams I remain eager to fulfill and see come to fruition. I let every emotion, feeling, and thought I had onto the page. The notebook was half diary, half creativity, and when inspiration struck, there it was under my white antique dresser, the best hiding spot I could think of, waiting for me. My love for the written word came early because my love for books and reading began early. In fact, one of my fondest memories of my childhood was reading the romance novels my aunt took out from the library when she was done reading them. I fell into the worlds of Sidney Sheldon, Nora Roberts, James Patterson, and Jude Deveraux long before I understood the entirety of what I was reading. In their worlds, the adventures were my respite, the chance to focus on the worries, realities, and experiences of others while pretending my own did not exist.  

I was an anxious child, in secret of course, always worrying about which person I loved, I would lose. I began spending my nights pleading with the universe to keep them safe, happy, and alive. On top of the worry surrounding losing my loved ones, I began to worry about what I believed was my inherent role as a burden to my family and friends because of my cerebral palsy. Disabled people are taught by society at large that our needs, however wide-ranging they might be, are enough to warrant a resentment that can lead to mistreatment and sometimes, in most horrific cases, death. So I did my best to make myself small. At night, I begged God to make me “normal” and, despite the unyielding love from my family and friends, I began to hate myself and resent that my prayers for normalcy were going unanswered. I was an anxious child who became an anxious adult who glommed onto the idea that my body made me unlovable — and ran with it. My first published pieces as a writer basked in my resentment and discomfort for my body, waxing poetic about how hard life was as a disabled person. I started therapy not long after (thank God) and realized what a disservice I had done to and for myself and the community.  

Alongside therapy and saying four things that I like about myself, I began to love myself and my life changed. I started believing more was possible for me and listening when my loved ones told me that I was not a burden, and anyone who treated me as such was not worth my time or energy.

After a viral hashtag and three books, I find myself unable to create. As a person who learned to traffic in hope and who has always had a special connection with the written word, the fact that I am unable to get past the ideas stage is more than disheartening. There is nothing like seeing the thing that you have created in stores and knowing it will find a home with readers who need it. I miss that.  

Photo of Keah by Greyley’s Moon.

The truth is, I don’t know who I am without writing and I don’t want to. When someone reaches a level of visibility that three published books provide, despite the fact that they aren’t award-winning, I think there is a consensus that life is great, and my issues are few and far between. However, that couldn’t be further from the truth. I am well aware that living through an ongoing pandemic, climate change, and a world on fire — personally and culturally — has something to do with it, but now, when I look at a blank document, my anxiety spikes instead of the usual rush of adrenaline.  

At the tail end of last year, after I was done promoting the publication of The Secret Summer Promise, my third book, I spent my days in bed crying and unable to get up. In the off chance that I did find my way back to my laptop, I spent it letting tears line my keyboard in place of words. I was withering away. The once vibrant, eager, boisterous version of me was now the depressed, exhausted, lonely reality of me. After years of pretending to be fine and trying to push through, I knew then, after months of trying to make a middle-grade novel work, that I needed more help than monthly therapy sessions could provide. With shaking hands and a tear-riddled voice, I went to my primary care physician and told her I needed to be put on depression and anxiety meds. They were not the easy fix I was hoping for. At almost eleven months into the year, I’ve adjusted the brand name and milligram of my med a few times. I just now feel like I can function and have started dipping my toes into writing poetry again. I don’t believe that everything is better now, but I trust myself enough to be honest about what I need so that I can show up long enough to attempt to create another long piece of work. Writing books has been my dream since I was eight years old. My name has been on a book spine three times, and my hope is to write one million more books across genre and about messy, complicated, but lovable characters who are just trying to figure themselves out and where they belong in the world. In order to do that, though, I have to take care of myself and my wellbeing so that I can show up for the stories I have always been so eager to tell.  

Keah Brown is a writer, journalist, and disability rights advocate known for her impactful work on the intersection of disability, race, and self-love. As the creator of the viral hashtag #DisabledAndCute, Brown promotes body positivity and self-acceptance for disabled people. Her works include The Pretty One, The Secret Summer Promise, and Sam’s Super Seats.

Advice for Freelance Writers From an Award-Winning Disabled Games Journalist

by Blog Writers

By Grant Stoner

October marks National Disability Employment Awareness Month (NDEAM), a time to highlight the importance of equal opportunities within the workforce for disabled individuals. This year’s theme, “Access to Good Jobs for All,” reinforces the narrative that everybody is deserving of a well-paying job. And for disabled Americans still fighting for issues like marriage equality, financial security, and accessible spaces, it’s a step in the right direction for the government to acknowledge this aspect of the disabled experience.

For me, NDEAM allows me to reflect on my career as an accessibility reporter in the gaming industry. While I have yet to acquire a full-time job, my work as a freelancer has offered me numerous opportunities to earn money for things like savings, important life events, and even fun treats for friends and family. With my five years of experience, I wanted to share some tips for those interested in becoming a gaming journalist, more specifically, a disabled gaming journalist.

Grant and his girlfriend

Write, Write, and Write

This may seem obvious, but to be a journalist, you need to write. I’ve been professionally writing since 2019, publishing numerous reviews, developer interviews, community reports, and even opinion pieces on the state of accessibility in the gaming industry. But long before I had bylines at publications like IGN, WIRED, and Easterseals, I began learning how to convey my thoughts into cohesive sentences at my university’s school newspaper.

Since 2015, I’ve written with the goal of becoming a games journalist. While I initially had no intention of exploring accessibility and the disabled perspective with my stories, I always wanted to see my name on websites and within magazines that I grew up reading. And when I first started, I was admittedly terrible. My stories lacked emotion, instead, being nothing more than a checklist of a game’s features followed by a quick, ultimately meaningless sentence of whether I liked a title. I was never going to impress editors with my mediocrity. But with each review, each feature within the school newspaper, each draft returned by my editors, I became more confident in myself as a writer.

Despite graduating with a degree in Multiplatform Journalism, I will be the first to admit that I didn’t learn how to become a writer by attending college courses. Instead, my knowledge came directly from trial and error, as well as the guidance of my editors. And since higher education can be incredibly expensive and pose numerous barriers for disabled individuals, I’m here to tell you that you don’t need to have a degree to begin freelancing. You just need to prove to editors that you know how to write.

The Art of the Pitch

Before any good article comes to life, they all start as an idea. When writing independently, you don’t need the approval of others to begin developing your work. However, when freelancing, each article needs to capture the attention of whatever publication is worthy of your story. For example, with this very piece, I needed to convey to my editor – Hi, Erin! – that Easterseals’ readers would be interested in a feature exploring tips and tricks on how to freelance.

You need to provide samples for editors of your work. Show them why you are the best person to write the specific piece. If I’m pitching a story that deals directly with accessible innovations at studios like PlayStation, I’m going to demonstrate my knowledge on the subject through previous stories. And if you lack an extensive portfolio, utilizing your lived experience, particularly as a disabled individual, is just as important as having written examples.

Marginalized stories are best told by marginalized people. While it is possible for publications to write about disability and accessibility without hiring a disabled freelancer, you can prove to editors that your voice can provide nuance that others may lack. Did a company release a new piece of hardware, and do you have a physical disability? You can use this information to prove to editors that your years of using accessible devices makes you the right person for the job. Portfolios are important, but so is intrinsically understanding how to be disabled in the gaming industry.

Rejection Happens

When writing about subjects like accessibility and the disabled perspective, many publications often struggle to see the newsworthiness of these topics. Despite approximately 25% of the population living with some form of a disability, the nature of stories told about us continues to be framed as inspirational or pitiful. We still struggle to be viewed as confident and independent individuals, often infantilized for the enjoyment of others. And these preconceived notions and stereotypes of disabled people continue to plague the appeal of stories that actively push back against these beliefs. Unfortunately, this consistent uphill battle means publications may deny pitches.

My first freelance piece was published on October 5, 2018. Since then, I’ve published dozens of stories across numerous publications. Yet, for every story accepted, dozens have been rejected. And each reason can vary. From a lack of budgets to timeliness, and even an inability for editors to understand the importance of why certain stories need to be told means that I’m very familiar with rejection. While it’s important to acknowledge that rejection stings, it’s equally important to remember that one “no” does not make you a bad writer. As cliché as it sounds, the best piece of advice I can give is to keep pitching. Sometimes stories aren’t meant to be published, and sometimes it’s possible to save an idea for later, but a rejection is not a reflection of you as a writer.

I’m incredibly proud of the work I’ve done since I entered the professional space in 2019. And for this NDEAM, I’m incredibly thankful that I can continue doing this job I so dearly love. Yet, it’s important to remind others that disabled individuals belong in each space, not just the gaming industry. As we continue to normalize our voices across publications, we deserve a place within the workforce. As accessibility continues to evolve, disabled people need to be front and center to discuss these innovations.

Grant Stoner is a disabled journalist covering accessibility and the disabled perspective in the gaming industry. When not writing, he is usually screaming about Pokémon or his cat, Goomba, on social media.