Finding a Way In—What Four Veteran Teachers Have Learned About Inclusion

A child hangs back from an art activity, unsure about the paints. Denise notices and gives her more time.

An infant arrives for the day with a parent who isn't quite ready to say goodbye. Karimata helps them both settle in.

The energy in a classroom starts to shift. Cathy starts singing.

A child works toward a milestone that others aren't sure will come. Gigi keeps looking for what might help.

These moments look different. What they have in common is a teacher paying attention to the child in front of them and asking: What does this child need from me right now?

Gigi, Denise, Karimata, and Cathy have each spent years, and in some cases decades, teaching young children at Frazer Center. We recently sat down with each of them, along with colleagues who know their work well, to learn what has kept them here and what all those years in the classroom have taught them.

Their stories came back to something at the heart of inclusive education: getting to know the child in front of you, finding the connection that helps you reach them, and adapting the classroom so they have what they need to belong, learn, and grow.

Gigi: Seeing What's Possible

For 23 years, Gigi has looked for the potential in each child.

She remembers a child who came to her classroom unable to walk or talk. The child's mother had been told not to expect her to walk. Gigi's first question was practical: "Tell me what your baby needs."

When she learned that the child's leg braces and walker were at home, Gigi asked her mother to bring them to school. She and the classroom team worked those supports into the child's day, practicing with her on the playground and encouraging her along the way.

"Come on, come on," Gigi remembers telling her. "You can do it."

To encourage speech, Gigi sometimes placed the child's hand on her chin so she could feel the vibration as Gigi formed words. By the time the child moved on from Gigi's classroom, she was walking and talking. Years later, her mother still sends Gigi pictures.

"I told her mama, there's a lot in her," Gigi said.

Diane, a longtime colleague, remembers watching Gigi bring that same approach to the classroom curriculum. Instead of expecting a child to conform to what had already been planned, Diane said, Gigi "made that lesson plan fit for the child."

That instinct extends to the adults around her.

Long before Gigi was promoted to Senior Lead Teacher/Administrative Support, teachers were already coming to her for help. Diane remembers Gigi walking people through things step by step, never treating a question as something they should already know the answer to.

"Don't worry, I got your back," she would tell them. "Let's work together. We're gonna do it together."

Now that work is part of Gigi's job. She helps onboard new educators, guides them through required training, observes lead teachers-in-training, and offers coaching and feedback.

And she is still looking for potential.

"I see this in you, and I know you can do it," Gigi tells teachers. She remembers saying that recently to one educator who responded, almost incredulously, "For real?"

"Yeah," Gigi told them. "Come on, we're gonna do this."

Whether it's a child working toward a first step or an educator learning to trust their own abilities, Gigi doesn't assume that where someone is today determines where they can go next.

Denise: Giving a Child More Time

Denise is an artist and poet as well as an educator. After nearly 20 years at Frazer Center, creativity is part of how she connects with children.

Sometimes that means painting, storytelling, or music. Sometimes it means noticing that a child needs more time.

Recently, Denise was working with a child who was hesitant to participate in an art project. When a therapist was ready to help the child move on to crayons, Denise suggested giving her a little more time with the paints.

She encouraged the child to explore, first with brushes and then with her hands. Eventually, the child became completely absorbed in painting, full of joy and confidence.

Denise wasn't trying to get the child to a predetermined finish line. She noticed what was happening and made room for the child to engage in her own way.

Denise talks about the imagination that she and the children create together. Creativity in her classroom isn't something she presents to children. It's something she enters into with them.

Karimata: Welcoming Children with Hope

Karimata has spent 26 years at Frazer Center, much of that time caring for infants. Her colleagues affectionately call her the "baby whisperer," a nickname that speaks to the ease and trust she builds with babies and their families.

For parents of infants, particularly first-time parents, leaving a baby in someone else's care can be hard. Karimata understands that the transition belongs to the parent as much as the child. Her steady presence helps families begin to trust that their child is known and cared for here.

Her understanding of inclusion is also personal.

Karimata first came to Frazer as the parent of a child with a disability. She remembers being told that her son would never walk. Today, he does.

That experience shapes the hope she brings to other children and families. She knows that development doesn't follow one path or one timetable.

"Everybody's equal," Karimata said when we asked what she wants newer teachers to understand. "It doesn't matter how you come to the school. We always have to welcome everybody."

That welcome extends to her colleagues. Karimata speaks French, Spanish, English, and Pular, and she has helped bridge language gaps for newer team members, including educators who came to Frazer through its partnership with Refugee Women's Network.

After 26 years, she still talks with delight about watching babies arrive at Frazer and then grow, move, talk, explore, and eventually leave her classroom for the next one.

"I like to have an impact in their life," she said.

Cathy: Changing the Feeling in a Room

You can often hear Cathy before you see her.

She's singing.

After 40 years in early childhood education and more than 14 years at Frazer Center, music has become one of the ways Cathy connects with children. Gigi, her longtime colleague and friend, has watched Cathy begin singing when a child is overwhelmed or the energy in a classroom is getting unsettled. Children hear her, join in, and something changes.

Cathy knows when a room needs that shift because she's paying attention. She keeps track of what's happening across her classroom, listens to children's interactions, and notices when someone needs help finding their footing again.

Music is one way in. Play is another. Sometimes it's a conversation or giving children room to work something out themselves.

When Cathy works with newer teachers, she begins with connection. Listen to children. Respect them. Make sure they know they are safe, cared for, and loved.

Her own learning hasn't stopped, either.

Cathy says children have taught her patience and grace, and to remain open to change. Even after four decades in early childhood education, she still leaves work thinking about what happened that day, what worked, what didn't, and what she might do differently tomorrow.

Ask Cathy what has kept bringing her back to Frazer Center, and she doesn't hesitate.

"This is my professional home," she says. "My heart beats here."

And when she talks about the children, you begin to understand why.

"The children feed my soul."

Finding a Way In

There is no single way to reach a child.

A teacher can't know exactly what a child will eventually be able to do. But these educators have learned not to let a prediction about the future determine the possibilities they offer a child today.

They get to know each child: what draws them in, what makes them laugh, what helps them feel safe, what sparks their curiosity. They learn when to encourage and when to wait. And when something isn't working, they adjust.

They look for another way in.

This is how inclusion happens at Frazer Center.

It isn't one teaching method or one set of accommodations. It begins with knowing the child in front of you and being willing to change your approach and the environment around them.

Sometimes that means changing a lesson plan. Sometimes it means a few more minutes with the paint. It can be practicing a new movement again and again, reassuring a parent who isn't ready to say goodbye, or finding the song that changes the feeling in a room.

The child doesn't have to fit the plan. The plan has to work for the child.

Gigi, Denise, Karimata, and Cathy don't all teach the same way. What they share is attention to the children in front of them and a willingness to keep learning what reaches each one.

They don't know exactly where each child's path will lead. None of us does.

Their job is to make sure each child has room to keep going.