Katie R. Hurst

I sincerely hope that you will lend me your ear for the next five minutes. With all my heart, I believe you need to hear this message. Number one, I am sorry. I am sorry to all of my friends that have faced discrimination over the years and I, because of my privilege, was silent. I am sorry for the things I have said, done and probably still do. I am doing my best to listen now, to soak up and study all the things and phrases that are hurting you and to rid myself of them. I was wrong, and I genuinely apologize.  Would you like to know why I am finally speaking out? Because abuse happens everyday in my community of exceptional children. Every single day I am reaching out support to a friend who had a child secluded, abused, bullied to an extent that leaves physical scars. This is happening at schools. Everywhere. What can my own story possibly do? I don't know, but I know that truth is a strong weapon. I know that voices that speak out change worlds. Many people don&#

There are moments in every single day that I want to quit. I want to throw in the towel. I want to quit being the mom who is shouting, "Yes, she can!"  It's tiring. No, it's exhaustion that sinks all the way to the bone. It's laying my head on my pillow at night with one thousand thoughts scattering through my head. It's waking up, pushing power on my computer and starting to search for evidence again. It's meeting after meeting after meeting. It's laying my head on my pillow at night and praying for someone else to stand tall and take up this fight for one round so that I can rest. But I have a few things that keep me going. Every night when I do lay my head on my pillow, a memory reel starts in my mind. Every time that I question if I have lost my own mind, I see Ellie standing for the first time. I hear her counting to ten. I see Everlyse taking her first steps. I see all the times they have blown through every single low expectation the w