Unseen Ableism and Finding Humanity in Hard Situations

Unseen Ableism and Finding Humanity in Hard Situations

Ableism is often unintentional, unrecognized, and deeply ingrained—even among those who work in special education. Some people genuinely believe they are advocates for children with disabilities, yet their actions contradict their words. It’s difficult to face when you see it firsthand, especially when it directly affects your child’s safety and well-being.

I’ve had to navigate this painful reality myself. My child, who elopes and has no sense of danger, needed critical safety supports at school. Not everyone pushed back—many teachers and staff saw the need for more support and wanted to help. But administration? They were the ones standing in the way.

Instead of prioritizing my child’s needs, certain individuals in leadership positions acted as gatekeepers, minimizing the risks and making decisions that could have put my child in harm’s way. It was frustrating—infuriating, even—to face an administration that refused to see how their actions were harmful, all while insisting that they were doing what was “best.”

The Hard Truth: People Don’t Always See Their Own Ableism

Many administrators don’t realize when they are being ableist. They might think they are simply following “protocol,” managing “limited resources,” or ensuring “fairness.” But what they don’t see is how their decisions deny disabled children the support they need to be safe, to learn, and to thrive.  They assume a child is being defiant when they are actually struggling to process their environment. They expect neurodivergent children to adapt to a system that wasn’t built for them, instead of adapting the system itself. They fail to listen when a parent raises serious concerns—sometimes because they think they know better.

It’s not always intentional, but intentions don’t erase impact. When a child is left unsafe or unsupported because of an administration’s ableist mindset, the harm is real, regardless of whether they meant it or not.

Trying to See the Good in Everyone (Even When It’s Hard)

I try to remind myself that we are all human, and we all make mistakes. I try to see the good in people, even when some situations make that nearly impossible—especially when children are involved.

Many of the teachers and staff I’ve worked with genuinely care about my child and want to help. They see the struggles, they know the risks, and they try their best. But when administrators dismiss their concerns, ignore recommendations, or refuse to provide necessary support, even the most well-intentioned educators are left powerless.

It’s hard to find grace for someone when their decisions have put my child at risk, when their inaction has made my job as a parent infinitely harder. But at the same time, I have to believe that people are capable of growth. If I let anger consume me, if I let frustration be my only focus, I’ll burn out. And my child still needs me to keep fighting.

Holding People Accountable, While Still Holding Onto Hope

Finding the good in people doesn’t mean excusing their actions. It doesn’t mean letting go of accountability. It means recognizing that:

Some people don’t realize they are part of the problem.

Some people have never been challenged to think differently.

Some people have good intentions but need to be pushed toward real change.

And some? Some people will never see it, no matter how hard you try to show them. That’s the harsh truth. But I can’t afford to focus on changing every administrator who refuses to see their own bias. Instead, I focus on creating change where it matters most—by advocating, pushing for better policies, and ensuring my child gets what she needs despite the obstacles.

Moving Forward, Even When It’s Difficult

The reality is, ableism exists everywhere, including in the very systems that are supposed to support children with disabilities. I wish it wasn’t that way, but this is the world we live in.

So I will keep advocating. I will keep calling out injustice. I will keep fighting for my child’s safety and for the rights of every child who deserves better. And when I can, I will also try to see the good in people—not because it’s easy, but because it helps me keep going.

All the Best,

Ashley Mehr

Executive Director