Seeing one’s verbal quote in print — as I did when I picked up Wednesday’s Beachcomber and read the story, “School board passes a $15m budget” — always seems a little stark and dramatic. Certainly the statement I made — that “Vashon does not have a reputation for supporting families with kids with disabilities” — can seem a little severe, given the number of caring teachers, support workers and community members who do support those families and children.

But every family with a child with disabilities or special needs knows what a tooth-and-nail fight it is for even the most basic assessments and services, not only here but everywhere.

So how can people support families with disabilities?

First of all, that “attitude of inclusion” referenced in the article is the place to start. As ironic as it may seem, having differently abled children, and eventually adults, is a pretty common occurrence when you throw all the possibilities in one pot.

It is possible to understand the lifestyle of a disabled family. Think of it like a deep involvement in horses or cars or making money in a family business. It’s all-consuming, and everyone pitches in and is affected by it. It takes special scheduling and accommodations. It wears you thin sometimes. It strains relationships. You have to attend to it in a detailed and responsible way or it can consume you. It’s a bit unpredictable. And it seems you constantly have to fill out paperwork and get permission from someone for something you need to accomplish your goal. The difference is the “what” of the focus.

The “what” consists of therapies instead of practices, assessments instead of profit or loss statements or competitions. And of course, families with differently abled members rarely get to just forget about it all and take some time off. Their situation is not a choice. They can’t choose to drop out or switch interests. But ordinary people can understand extraordinary circumstances. That is a touchstone upon which anyone can relate.

Secondly, support comes because families can’t do it themselves. The interventions they need, the assistance, the money, the treatments are all dependent on other people. But the families themselves are the experts and need those who are helping to listen to them and follow their lead.

And you can help support by asking if you can help give the families a break from the constancy of the care and vigilance. That will happen if you engage parents and kids in conversations about their situations and conditions. Go ahead. School and care professionals need to maintain privacy codes. The general public can ask questions, and families are usually more than ready to respond. Disabled families survive through transparency. It’s their strongest suit.

I believe the day will come when families specifically move here because of the quality of services and community support. Why? Because we are growing in the depth of our lifestyle and our willingness to be transparent about the parts of life that are not perfect or mythically typical.

Kudos to the school board for responding with care and commitment to searching out those children who will grow through the school system’s excellent desire for all children to reach their maximum abilities and hence enjoy the gifts and talents they have been given.

They restructured the evening’s agenda at the most recent school board meeting to accommodate the number of community members who wanted to make public comments and by the time the remarks had closed were talking “task force,” a magical word of opportunity in administrative-eze.

More than ever, the time is right for schools, parents and community to work together identifying and assisting children and families with disabilities. That is our privilege as well as our responsibility.

— Deborah Anderson is a former therapeutic and co-op preschool teacher and a mother to special needs adoptive children.