Abstract
In the early 1900s, secluding individuals with disabilities was the norm. However, Elizabeth Farrell, a New York Public School System teacher, chose to challenge the norm. She focused on what children can learn by developing their powers instead of emphasizing their deficiencies. When Elizabeth founded the Council for Exceptional Children (CEC), the cornerstone of her mission was to provide teachers with the best training possible to give students with disabilities the best education possible.
Elizabeth's Farrell's journey reminds me of a book I read to my students called I Am One. This book, a book of action, embraces the importance of how just one person can make a difference. I often hear people in education say, "I'm only one person,” “My voice doesn't matter," or "I'm just a teacher." However, when you think about how some of the most wonderful things start, it's with just one. One seed starts a garden. One brush stroke initiates a beautiful painting. One brick to start breaking down walls. All it takes is one. One person can make a drop in the water to start ripples that become swells and then waves that create a chain reaction to inspire a movement that makes a change. Elizabeth Farrell was one person who inspired change. She was one teacher, in one ungraded classroom, in one school. And that one classroom led to many. When she convened 12 teachers in 1922, she triggered a wave of enthusiastic, passionate, kindred spirits that has led 100 years later to CEC being more than 21,000 members strong—and growing. Elizabeth Farrell was only one teacher who dared to take the first step to make the world better for individuals with disabilities. Because of her, we are here to continue her legacy. But why? Why are you choosing to be an advocate for special education?
I truly believe that every moment, every experience in our lives is strategically placed there for a reason. They shape who we are and how we live our lives. CEC is a part of my life, and I often get asked, why? About 14 years ago, I joyfully found out that I was pregnant with our third child. Knowing that this would probably be my last pregnancy, I took full advantage of any opportunity to take an ultrasound or listen to the baby's heartbeat. During one of my doctor visits for routine testing, the technician did all of her measurements and calculations and then asked me to wait a little bit because the doctor wanted to come in and talk with me. I didn't think much of this. However, when the doctor came in, I was not prepared for the conversation that we were about to have. I don't remember his exact words, but I remember him giving me statistics, probabilities, and percentages. He rattled off different disabilities and syndromes—all of which I was not prepared to hear. The doctor told me he believed our baby would be born with a genetic disorder. And as he kept talking, the only thing that I heard was a voice in my head. It kept saying, "But I'm a special education teacher. I'm a special education teacher." That voice kept getting louder and louder, and to this day, I don't know if I actually verbalized those words out loud. But the thought of transitioning from a special education teacher to a mother was more than I could bear at that moment. What happened next is a blur. I remember getting into my car and calling my husband and crying. The drive home felt like an eternity. In the weeks that followed, we were given options and had to make decisions that no parent should ever have to go through. In the end, we chose to do nothing but just love our baby. We decided that whatever challenges were coming our way, we would tackle them together as a family.
After Ryan was born, I held him late one night in my hospital bed, just staring at him and watching him breathe. And it was at that moment, I realized I honestly didn't know what the future holds, but I knew I was holding the future.
That's my "why." Ryan was placed in my life for a reason. That is why I am here today. And like Elizabeth Farrell, I want to leave this world a better place than how I found it, for Ryan, for my students, for all.
It only takes one step to start a journey. This past January, at our 2022 convention, we unveiled the new strategic plan for CEC, our road map that shapes our journey for the next 6 years. I am proud of the work that went into the development of this plan because it was a collaborative effort of our CEC staff, Board of Directors, division and unit leaders, and CEC members that took over 10 months to develop. Similar to the vision of Elizabeth Farrell, our plan focuses on our education professionals who serve individuals with disabilities every day. We want to ensure that CEC is the source of resources and supports to ensure that you are our students' best possible education professionals. Our strategic plan will help us fulfill our vision of high-quality education that is inclusive and equitable for individuals with disabilities.
I know we have a long way to go. I know because I live it. I see it every day with my son and my students. We're not there yet—but we will be. Together, we will be the driving force that makes the change in the world that we want to see for our individuals with disabilities. It starts with one person. I am one. You are one. Together, we can make a change.
Forward. Together.
Footnotes