Mandy

REA-L Family Member

This past year, my own family’s story has been a testament to the importance of community, reflection, and staying true to our shared vision.

For three years, my son Hudson attended an MCFD-funded respite program. At the time, I truly believed we had found an inclusive space where he could thrive. But in December 2022, everything fell apart, and Hudson was ejected from the program. I was devastated. The support that had become a cornerstone for our family suddenly vanished, and I found myself scrambling to fill that void.

I advocated tirelessly to secure a new placement, clinging to the belief that we were still on the path toward inclusion. Yet, over the next nine months, as Hudson transitioned to a new program, I found myself repeating old patterns. I convinced myself that this new arrangement was inclusive, that it aligned with our family’s vision for Hudson. But slowly, reality set in.

The new placement was, in fact, a step further away from the authentic, inclusive life we had envisioned for him. It, too, fell apart, leaving us feeling lost and uncertain.

It wasn’t until I started to see through the REA-L lens—the lens that we’ve all worked so hard to create together—that I realized just how far we had strayed. This was my wake-up call: inclusion is not simply about fitting into existing systems, but about redefining them to truly align with the values of equity, dignity, and respect.

​I share this deeply personal experience not as a story of failure, but as a reminder that even those of us deeply committed to this work can sometimes get off track. It’s okay to struggle, to feel lost, and to question the choices we’ve made. What matters is that we have a community to turn to—a network like REA-L where we can share our stories, lean on each other, and reignite the vision of a regular, equitable, and authentic life for our loved ones. 

Our journey of resistance, so far, has become a journey of inclusion and friendship and community. By resisting segregated and specialized options and programs we have been forced to think outside the box to find ways for our kids to remain on the same path as everyone else.  This has led to my daughter having best friends, applying to university, and now planning to move into her own apartment with a supportive roommate her own age. Our journey of resistance has created a network of allies around us that has nothing to do with disability, but rather about cooperative neighbourhoods and community dinners and helping each other out. This is what I’m excited to learn more about as we move into the next part of our journey- how to invite people in with the skills to grow that network in a way that creates ‘inclusion and belonging and meaning’ for everyone, not just our daughter. We’re excited to meet and learn from others who have resisted the pull of specialized services and ‘solutions’ for the disabled, and who instead want to facilitate and build connection and community in a way that widens the stream and excludes no one. ​

SANDRA

When my child was born with Down Syndrome in 1983 it was not a disaster. I made a promise to her the second day of her life that I would fight for her rights. We lived in  four different provinces  and in each one we successfully advocated for regular classes.  My daughter was a pioneer and ambassador of inclusion. In grade twelve year my daughter still wanted to carry on with her education. So, with other like-minded parents we started a post-secondary education initiative to get our kids into regular courses at the University of Victoria. She attended for 5 years  taking courses from the Faculty of Education in health and recreation. She graduated with the one-year teacher cohort.  The Post-secondary initiative got my daughter a job at her local health store pharmacy 
She has been on cruises with friends, gambled in Las Vegas, climbed into tombs in Egypt and wandered the souqs in the Emirates.  She is now living independently in a home-share and got married to the person she loves.
Had Steph not been included in regular classes, recreation and life in general and had I not had the vision of how it could be,  I think things would have turned out very differently.