Teach Them the Way They Learn

As our kids graduate fifth grade,
so many of us are carrying a mix of pride, excitement, and a little heartbreak too. 💛

Because middle school feels big.
Bigger backpacks.
Bigger hallways.
Bigger emotions.
And somehow… kids who suddenly don’t feel quite so little anymore.

So here’s what so many parents are quietly hoping for as this next chapter begins:

Dear Sixth Grade,

Please be gentle with our pre-teens.
This middle school world is brand new to them.

Help them find their classes without panic
and remember which hallway their locker is in.

Guide them toward friends who see them, appreciate them,
and love them for exactly who they are.

Let them still come home talking—
about the funny moments, the awkward ones,
the friendships, the disappointments,
and all the confusing in-between.

Give us, as parents, the patience to listen more than we lecture,
the courage to have the hard conversations,
and the wisdom to remember they are still learning.

Please let them stay true to themselves—
the remarkable, one-of-a-kind people we already know they are.

And above all else,
let kindness guide them.

Because middle school can be hard.
And every child walking those hallways is carrying something we may not see.

So as our fifth graders become sixth graders,
we hope they grow in confidence without losing their softness,
find independence without feeling alone,
and always know they have a safe place to land at home.

Here’s to the next adventure.
We couldn’t be prouder of them.

Living FULL by Danielle Sherman-Lazar

In Laredo, Texas a boy with special needs cried and watched through a glass doorway as his fellow classmates lined up to walk and receive their diplomas.

He was not allowed to be with his class during his Kindergarten graduation.

The family was asked to arrive separately and keep their son in the library for close to 20 minutes before he was allowed to walk, after them, separating him from the main group.

Don’t mainstream disabled kids, call your school inclusive etc and then do this.

Because this is not inclusion.

This.

“The program, which accepts individuals with developmental disabilities aged 21 and over, was responsible for “maintaining line of sight” with Justin at all times, according to a notice of tort claim filed against it.”

Elopement.

Lack of safety awareness.

This is why parents struggle to trust others to care for our loved ones.

Sending love and prayers to this family. 💔

This!
Stalen’s Way❤️

Parents who ask for accountability are often labeled—“difficult,” “that parent,” “disrespectful,” “entitled.”

But those labels don’t really reflect who we are.

More often, they reflect the discomfort that can come with hard conversations.

We are pointing out the gaps.

We are speaking up when “good enough” isn’t enough.

We are asking systems to meet the standards they strive for.

And yes, that can feel uncomfortable.

Because it’s often easier to focus on tone than to look at what’s being said.

Easier to move past concerns than to work through them.

Easier to deflect than to acknowledge change is needed.

But at the end of the day, this isn’t about being difficult.

It’s about our children.

Call it what you want—
“Difficult.”
“Too much.”
“Entitled.”

We call it advocacy.

And we’ll keep showing up.