Listen to this episode on YouTube.
Show Notes
About the Guest(s)
Mary Beth Moore — Author of Unwanted: Fighting to Belong and founder/executive director of The Advocacy Underground. She studied political science and criminal justice at UNC Charlotte, served in the U.S. Marine Corps, worked as a DoD intelligence analyst and later as a marketing leader. She uses storytelling to make special education law and research accessible to families and educators. She’s also Gavin’s mom.
Episode Summary
When school leaders say yes to inclusion, everything changes. In this conversation, Mary Beth Moore shares how her son Gavin—who has Down syndrome, is nonverbal, and is still working on early literacy and numeracy—thrives in a fourth‑grade general education classroom because a principal chose to welcome him and build support. She contrasts that with systems that default to no, explores why implementation (not new law) is the bottleneck, and offers practical ways families and districts can move from conflict to collaboration. The through‑line: inclusion isn’t about meeting grade‑level benchmarks—it’s about belonging, support, and leadership willing to try.
Read the transcript (auto-generated and edited with help from AI for readability)
Introduction
Tim Villegas
What if school leaders, instead of saying no to inclusion as they often do, said yes? Today on Think Inclusive, a mother tells what happens when leadership says yes to inclusive education.
My name is Tim Villegas from the Maryland Coalition for Inclusive Education, and you are listening to Think Inclusive, a show where with every conversation we try to build bridges between families, educators, and disability rights advocates to create a shared understanding of inclusive education and what inclusion looks like in the real world. You can learn more about who we are and what we do at MCIE.ORG.
For this episode, I speak with Mary Beth Moore, author of the book Unwanted: Fighting to Belong.
Mary Beth Moore is the founder and executive director of The Advocacy Underground, a nonprofit dedicated to supporting the authentic inclusion of students with disabilities across all educational environments. She studied political science and criminal justice at the University of North Carolina at Charlotte before joining the U.S. Marine Corps. She served as an intelligence analyst for the Department of Defense for several years, and then transitioned to a marketing leader in the high-tech space. She uses the storytelling skills gained as an intelligence analyst and marketing leader to make the complexities in special education law and research more consumable by parents and educators alike.
Before we get into today’s interview, I want to tell you about our sponsor, Together Letters. That’s right folks, we have an official sponsor! So exciting. Are you losing touch with important people in your life? Are you part of a group that’s drifting apart? Together Letters is a tool that can help. It’s a group email newsletter that asks group members for updates and combines them into a single newsletter for everyone. All you need is email. No social media required! Together Letters is great for families, work groups, book clubs, friends, and us! We are using Together Letters so Think Inclusive Patrons can keep in touch with each other. Groups of 10 or less are free and you can sign up at togetherletters.com.
Thank you so much for listening. And now, my interview with Mary Beth Moore.
Meet Mary Beth Moore
Tim Villegas
Mary Beth Moore, it is a pleasure to have you on the Think Inclusive Podcast. You wrote Unwanted to tell the story of you fighting for inclusion for Gavin. So why don’t you go ahead and let our audience know about the book and your story.
Mary Beth Moore
Gavin just turned 10 years old. And so the book is really a reflection on everything that we’ve been through over 10 years, really starting with fighting for his right to life with medical staff, and then fighting for services, and then getting into preschool and the education system. Our fight began around the access to feeding therapy and appropriate nutrition in school and then extended into inclusion.
I think anyone in the fight for inclusion is very experienced in receiving the answer no—no to services, no to even evaluations, no to implementing things a certain way, no to support, no to accommodations, no to modifications. Gavin’s story certainly started that same way. And it was a very persistent trend. And then there’s a pivot.
I really wanted to tell the story of what happens when you tell a family yes. What happens to a child who is finally said yes—you are wanted in general education, you are worthy of being in this environment. You do belong here. You do deserve these medical interventions. You do deserve this support. You are worthy of all of it and you’re wanted exactly as you are in this world.
That’s really the heart that I brought into the story because I think it’s important for people who are outside of the world of Special Education and Disability Rights to understand how pervasive things are, but also to see a real person behind it. Because our external world does a great job of turning us into numbers and statistics, but this is about people.
Gavin has multiple medical complications and multiple diagnoses. He has Down syndrome. He is nonverbal. And he’s in a fourth-grade classroom right now. He’s still working on learning letter sounds and counting to 20. When people hear that, it’s a little shocking—he’s nowhere near grade level, right? And he’s thriving. He doesn’t have to be near grade level.
Now we see it in the real world of inclusion working: a child who has what would be considered significant disabilities, who historically would have gone to an intellectual disability severe classroom, is now in Gen Ed and thriving because someone said yes to him. That’s really the crux of this book—look what happens when we stop saying no and start saying yes.
What Makes Gavin’s Inclusion Different
Tim Villegas
What is different about how Gavin is supported versus other students, either in that school or in your district that have an intellectual disability?
Mary Beth Moore
I’m in meetings with many parents across the district, and I often have to use Gavin’s story to show them that inclusion is possible. We have classrooms labeled for intellectual disability—if you have a diagnosis, that’s where you go. That’s been the historical trend.
When Gavin entered preschool and we were fighting for feeding therapy services, I filed a Department of Education complaint against the state and due process against the district. I was successful with both. That all came to a resolution right before kindergarten.
The head of our special education department at the time came up to me and said, “I can’t fight you like this for 12 more years. I don’t want this to be a fight for 12 more years.” And I said, “My son is not going to an ID severe classroom. He’s going to go to school just like his sisters, at his base school.”
From there, there was never pushback. I had elevated our issue outside of the district and state, and I was able to say, “I know what you’re supposed to do, and I’m going to hold you accountable.” We haven’t had a fight since then.
But it’s frustrating because I can go to a school five minutes down the street, and a child who is much closer to grade level, who doesn’t need nearly the support my son does, is being told, “We’re making too many modifications. It’s too much work.” Same district, same town—completely different experience.
Stories of Leadership Saying No
Tim Villegas
You alluded to it, but do you have any specific stories that you’d like to share for our audience about students who have run into that leadership saying no?
Mary Beth Moore
Yes. In our case, leadership saying yes changed everything. But I’ve seen the opposite.
There’s a family I worked with where the student hasn’t stepped foot in a school building in three to four years because the district hasn’t provided a registered nurse. They required the mom to act as a nurse for a teacher to come in. The mom said, “If I can be a nurse at home, why can’t you count me as a nurse in the school so my child can have friends?” They wouldn’t allow it. An educator even volunteered to go in, but leadership said no. So this child has had no education for years.
Another family had a girl with multiple disabilities and behavior struggles. She found school traumatic and would harm herself to avoid going. The mom suggested that a trusted teacher meet her outside and walk her in. For a few days, it worked. Then the principal said, “We don’t have time for the teacher to do this.” They replaced her with another staff member, and the behaviors escalated again.
These decisions create trauma. We talk about the need for mental health professionals to address trauma coming into schools, but we don’t talk about the trauma educators create within schools by how they treat children with disabilities.
How to Avoid Seeing Leadership as the Enemy
Tim Villegas
Whether you’re a family member or an educator, how can we not look at school leadership as the enemy in this? You just mentioned two opportunities for leadership to say yes, but instead they said no and drew a line in the sand. How can we not look at them as adversarial?
Mary Beth Moore
It’s hard because as a parent, they’re messing with your child’s well-being. But if we think about this in terms of bigger conflicts, like wars, we would never turn our children over to our enemy for six hours a day. And in this case, we have to.
Outside of the public school system, we don’t have anywhere else to go. So we don’t have the luxury of turning educators into our enemies. I believe when we know better, we do better.
Parents often assume schools know the law and best practices, but they don’t. They’re responsible for compliance, and they don’t even know compliance to what.
Systemic Issues in Special Education
Mary Beth Moore
The entire framework of special education focuses on deficits—how a child doesn’t measure up to a child without disabilities. Everything is about underperformance compared to standards written for children without disabilities.
There’s also a misunderstanding of what inclusion and special education really mean. Inclusion is not synonymous with independence or grade-level performance. Special education is not a specific room or curriculum.
But understanding that cognitively and believing it with conviction are different. Teachers ask: Do I have what I need? Do I have the training? Am I getting paid enough? Add generational differences and cultural expectations—like standardized testing and lecture-based learning—and you reinforce bias that students with disabilities can’t function in these environments.
We need a shift. We want educators to see our children as people and give them grace. And we have to do the same. It starts with finding common ground and reducing fear—fear of doing something wrong, fear of losing a job, fear of parent backlash.
Law, Accountability, and Power Dynamics
Tim Villegas
I haven’t asked a guest this in a while, but IDEA hasn’t been reauthorized in about 15 years. Do you think we need to change the law, or do we already have what we need and just need to implement it?
Mary Beth Moore
In my opinion, it’s the latter. The law is strong. It’s been strong since 1975 and has only gotten stronger. What hasn’t been strengthened is accountability.
If we systematically violated human rights in any other job, we’d be fired—maybe even face criminal penalties. But in education, it’s become a way of life. People are promoted and celebrated for behavior that violates the law. That speaks to enablement and lack of oversight at all levels—federal, state, and local.
The law is strong. Court interpretations are strong. Research is strong. The problem is enforcement. People need to be personally accountable for violations. If you break the law, “I didn’t know” isn’t an excuse anywhere else—why is it okay here?
We need teeth in the law. More oversight. Maybe even a third-party watchdog to defend children, because right now, kids go without services for years.
Decentralization and Local Control
Tim Villegas
Isn’t part of the problem that accountability is decentralized? Even in the U.S., the federal system isn’t that powerful. Local districts hold most of the power.
Mary Beth Moore
I’d argue the opposite. Local boards often make decisions without understanding special education. They ignore parent input and side with the system.
In our case, the state wasn’t helpful either. Parents often have to escalate to get results. Sometimes the state will intervene, but even compliance investigators don’t know what they’re enforcing. They look at process, not intent.
I’ve heard “we can’t do anything” so many times. But often, it’s not that they can’t—it’s that they won’t try. There are districts that have created review committees to resolve conflicts proactively. They listen, ask questions, and recommend corrective actions. That kind of local initiative can completely change the tone of IEP meetings and outcomes for kids.
Who Has the Power to Drive Inclusion?
Tim Villegas
In the work we’ve done with school districts, it feels like the people who have the most power to change things are district leaders—superintendents, associate superintendents. For example, Cecil County Public Schools in Maryland has had an LRE of over 90% for a decade, and you can feel the mindset of inclusion throughout the district.
That change didn’t come from one teacher or one family. It came from leadership. So who do we need to lean on to really make a change?
Mary Beth Moore
I agree leadership matters, but it’s not always about a specific role. It’s about finding people who care enough to act.
In our school, we have a principal who said, “Let’s figure it out.” They didn’t get extra training or resources. They reassigned staff to make it work. Sometimes principals struggle because they don’t have headcount, and the district doesn’t provide it. That’s where district leadership should step in.
But instead, we see energy spent on writing policies that sometimes even violate the law. For example, a county here wrote a policy requiring schools to issue prior written notice within 10 days—without parental participation. That’s against the law, and now parents have to fight it.
Curriculum and Professional Development
Mary Beth Moore
We also need to bring general education into inclusion conversations. Too often, they’re left out. They sit in IEP meetings and barely speak.
Curriculum development is critical. Alternate curriculum isn’t really alternate—it’s often just watered-down standards, taught in separate classrooms. That’s segregation by curriculum.
Teachers need training, but not just pre-service. We need ongoing, in-building support. It’s not enough to write policies; leaders need to show up in schools and reinforce inclusive practices face-to-face.
System Incentives and the Status Quo
Tim Villegas
…and the system exists for it to continue the way that it is. It doesn’t exist for it to change. There’s no incentive.
Mary Beth Moore
Yeah, there’s no benefit if you’re more inclusive in your—
Tim Villegas
—heart, and—
Mary Beth Moore
—emotionally rewarding, sure, but now I’m working harder. I’m in conflict with my bosses because this isn’t what they support. My peer, the general education teacher, doesn’t like that I’m in their classroom. It makes my life harder because I don’t have anyone around me who supports it besides this family.
It feels like an individual battle you take on—whether you’re a parent or an educator. That’s heartbreaking because we all feel like individuals, and we’re all fighting the same thing. How do we come together and put pressure from the outside in and from the inside out? Educators join together inside the system, and we as parents apply pressure from the outside to say: it’s not an option to not do this anymore. Failure cannot be your option anymore. We do not accept it moving forward.
Advice for Families Feeling Stuck
Tim Villegas
For parents or families that are feeling stuck—they want authentic, inclusive education for their child but they feel stuck—what advice do you have?
Mary Beth Moore
We’ve all heard, “Don’t start a fight you’re not willing to finish.” I rephrase it for parents: don’t take on a fight you don’t believe in. If you decide to fight, it’s because you believe in it—and if you believe in it, you cannot stop fighting.
We talk about what a fight it is, but we don’t always talk about the emotions: being overwhelmed, the shame schools put on us for daring to ask that our student’s rights be met, the defeat when we can’t get our child what they need, when we see them hurting—trauma at school, or needs not being met. That starts to break you down. That’s when you go into fight mode.
We’re fighting for something incredibly important against a force that can’t be our enemy, but it is bigger than we are. The other side has strength in numbers, history, and infrastructure. So parents can support each other—have someone else in meetings as a witness, shining a light: “I’ve got someone else coming in.” Back each other up. Sit side-by-side. Find educators who believe what we do and support them—sometimes more covertly so they don’t get in trouble when they let us know what’s going on. Build relationships and build our strength.
In a fight, size, strength, focus, skills, experience, strategy—those matter. But so do heart, resolve, and values. The U.S. education system has significant size and strength. On our side, we’re fighting for our kids’ physical and psychological safety, their emotional well-being, their right to belong in the communities they live in, to be valued and accepted as worthy just the way they are. We’re fighting for real opportunities for our children with disabilities to be legitimately educated and authentically included—and ultimately for them to have good lives, surrounded by teachers and friends they trust, who have their best interests at heart, who teach confidence, perseverance, and self-belief, extending into all areas of life, not just academics.
We’re fighting for something much bigger than test performance or meeting a state standard. Being surrounded by people who have our best interest, helping us with confidence, perseverance, belonging, and belief in ourselves—those are the same things that make life beautiful for all of us.
Understand: when you take on this fight and it gets hard, it’s supposed to feel that way. You’re supposed to feel defeated. Getting back up—that’s the choice. Getting knocked down will happen, but you have to stand back up because you’re not just fighting for your kid; you’re fighting for the neighbor down the street, the kid in the grocery store, someone you sit beside in church, a family you play soccer with. We’re fighting for something better. It’s hard. You can’t give up. Stay focused on what you’re fighting for versus what you’re fighting against.
That has been my biggest mindset shift with Gavin, and why I wrote this book and what I wanted to share: we talk about frustrations and about children lost in a system, but we have found success on the other side. It was hard—there were tears, anger, betrayal—all the feelings. But you have to understand the heartbreak to appreciate the triumph now: Gavin sitting in a fourth-grade general education classroom and thriving in a system not designed for him to be there. All because individual people along the way started saying yes: we’re going to make it work.
We don’t need big systemic change to make the biggest difference. We can’t wait for someone else to make change or to hold people accountable. That’s our role as parents: protect our children and give them the life they deserve.
Closing and Credits
Tim Villegas
Mary Beth Moore, thank you so much for being on the Think Inclusive Podcast. We appreciate your time.
Mary Beth Moore
Thanks for having me. It was a blast.
Tim Villegas
Think Inclusive is written, edited, and sound designed by Tim Villegas, and is a production of MCIE.
Original music by Miles Kredich.
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For more information about inclusive education or to learn how MCIE can partner with you and your school or district, visit mcie.org.
Thanks for your time and attention, and remember: Inclusion Always Works.
Key Takeaways
- “Yes” is a strategy. A single leadership decision to include a student can unlock services, creativity, and collaboration that a thousand “no’s” never will.
- Inclusion ≠ independence or grade‑level performance. Students can be far from grade level and still learn, contribute, and belong in general education with the right supports.
- Special education is services, not a place. Eligibility shouldn’t route students to a separate room by default; supports follow the student into general education.
- Modify standards to remove barriers. If a student can’t write or speak, the task—not the child—should change. Modified ways to show learning are appropriate and necessary.
- Accountability is the missing piece. IDEA is strong on paper; what’s weak is enforcement and consequences for ongoing noncompliance.
- Local leadership drives culture. Districts and principals set the tone; when superintendents and school leaders champion belonging, it cascades through schools and classrooms.
- Practical conflict‑resolution helps. A district‑level review committee that listens to both sides, issues recommendations, and brings training into schools can quickly reset relationships and practice.
- Trauma can be school‑made. Refusing reasonable supports (e.g., trusted staff for entry, nursing coverage) can keep students out of school for years—leaders must choose solutions over rigid rules.
- Parents: don’t start a fight you won’t finish. Anchor to your “why,” bring witnesses/allies, escalate when needed, and keep the focus on what you’re fighting for—belonging and a good life.
- Build joint courage. Families and educators need each other; reduce fear by trying, adjusting, and learning together rather than repeating the same failing approaches.