As a mom of a kid with a disability, the most important lesson I want to teach my son is that he belongs. My son James is 13. He has medically complex health conditions and a disability that affects his breathing. His disability isn’t something he can hide from the world. (Even if he could, he shouldn’t have to.) 

My son is able to live at home with our family, attend school and interact with the world because we live in a nation where disabled people have civil rights. When I hear President Trump talk about eliminating diversity, equality, inclusion and accessibility, he’s not just attacking civil rights for disabled people — he’s sending a message to kids like my son that they don’t belong. 

It’s a scary time to be a parent of a child with a disability. My son has been successful in school because he’s been able to attend class with his peers in a system that values diversity, equity, inclusion and accessibility. If the Department of Education is dissolved, who will protect the rights of disabled students? If Section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act — a 50-year-old civil rights law that protects the rights of people with disabilities — is eliminated (16 states are suing to overturn the law), will disabled students have any rights left to protect?

The attacks on diversity, equity, inclusion and accessibility are easy to understand — they’re just bullying. Telling kids that they aren’t welcome because they’re different is just plain mean. 

To help counteract this, these are the things I’ve been teaching my son, which I also wish I could teach our politicians:

Diversity is a good thing. 

California is a diverse state. Our diversity makes us stronger and better. Disability is part of diversity because it’s part of the human condition. Disability is an identity that layers on top of race, gender, sexuality and socio-economic status. It’s important for kids to learn in diverse classrooms so they can see and hear other people’s perspectives. When my son’s fourth grade class read Wonder (a chapter book about a child with facial differences), the kids in his class experienced the book differently because they already knew a child with facial differences. The kids were able to talk about the book on a different level because for them, interacting with a child with facial difference was something they had already done for their whole lives. 

Equity is a good thing.

Another word for equity is fairness. I’m teaching my son that the world is supposed to be fair and that when it isn’t fair we can do something about it. When my son was very young, we lived in Caruthers, a tiny unincorporated community in Fresno County. It was hard to access health care and early intervention services because we lived in a rural, impoverished region. To the extent we were able to get services at all, it was because California made a commitment to deliver services in rural and underserved regions. Equity isn’t saying that every child will have equal educational outcomes. Equity is saying that every child should have the same opportunity to achieve, so that our kids can thrive even when life isn’t fair.

Inclusion is a good thing.

Disabled kids have a right to attend school with their peers. My son loves school — he’s very proud of being an A student. Inclusion isn’t just good for kids with disabilities though, it benefits everybody. My son has gone to school with the same group of neighborhood kids since kindergarten. The kids he’s grown up with are completely unfazed by tube feedings and breathing treatments. The other kids in his classes will grow up to be kinder, more compassionate adults because they’ve had the opportunity to build friendships with their disabled peers.

Accommodations are a good thing.

Accommodations are one of the ways that we see diversity, equity and inclusion in action. It’s not enough to just talk about making the world a welcoming place for kids with disabilities. My son attends school with a nurse who manages his breathing so he can focus on learning and his teachers can focus on teaching. It’s one of the accommodations in his Individualized Education Plan. That means it’s not just a nice thing the school district provides for him; it’s something they’re required to provide to comply with the law. His classmates are used to having the nurse around — the nurse dispenses Band-Aids to other kids as often as he handles a medical emergency for my son. His classmates are learning that some kids need a little bit of extra help to get to the same place.

As Californians, how can we stand up for our values and protect disabled kids from an administration that is sending them messages that they don’t belong? The first step is to push back on the language of exclusion in a way that our kids can hear. Our kids need to hear how we value diversity, and that they’re welcome in classrooms exactly the way they are. Our kids need to hear that we’re committed to building an equitable and just world. Our kids need to hear that inclusion is important so that they know they’re welcome. Our kids with disabilities need to know that California will value and protect them.

Jennifer McLelland is the California Health Report’s disability rights columnist. She also serves as the policy director for home- and community-based services at Little Lobbyists, a family-led group that advocates for and with children with complex medical needs and disabilities.