IN A NUTSHELL Editor's NoteInnovative reflections here on how parents should see their child with a disability, as part of the Author’s engagement in behavioral economics to design policies that advance disability inclusion as a core economic and workforce issue. As per her belief, ‘...smarter policy starts with human behavior, stronger institutions are built through inclusion, and the most effective global strategies are the ones that work for people first...’
Civil and Human Rights Advocate through the Lens of Behavioral Economics
Washington, D.C., USA
Let’s Change the Way Parents See Their Child with a Disability
Growing up, I often heard my mom say, “You can fix the medical issue, but you often create an emotionally stunted child.” She said this while spending years at the Children’s Hospital beside my sister as she battled leukemia. My mother had to push through her own fear to let my sister live fully, even in the heaviness of illness. She encouraged other parents to do the same: to give their children as normal a life as possible, despite their circumstance.
Years later, while working with the U.S. Special Advisor on International Disability Rights, she shared an idea that has stayed with me: “Parents are the biggest enablers—and disablers—of their children with disabilities.” It’s not a moral judgment, it’s a systems observation. Parents must navigate medical equipment, protocols, therapies, and services, all while making their child feel seen, valued, and capable. Families who succeed show us that children with disabilities are not “special cases” to overcome they are human beings to understand and support, just like anyone else.
Many families do the opposite by perpetuating language like “special needs” and “differently abled” in attempt to make a child feel loved. Despite the positive intent, this language signals difference, othering, and a paternalism. By labeling a child’s needs as “special,” we imply that others are doing them a favor by accommodating them. Over time, this framing can reinforce social separation and internalized feelings of being abnormal. Term “differently abled” can call out the way that child with a disability navigates the world when in fact every one is differently abled. Other language we heard included “normal” and “abnormal” children to be able to differentiate between children with and without disabilities. Words shape perception and perception shapes reality.
The challenge is global. In meetings with government officials from former Soviet countries, we discussed efforts to close large institutions in favor of community-based living. Despite the international community calling on governments to deinstitutionalize and the internal desire of these governments to close these institutions, a larger problem of how to change the mindset of parents with children with disabilities looms. Policies alone cannot succeed if parental attitudes remain trapped in fear. Parents naturally want to protect their children, but fear and the social stigma that often accompanies disability can unintentionally limit opportunity. Around the world, harmful practices persist: children are shackled, excluded, or hidden because families lack guidance or support. Change begins not with law alone, but with how parents perceive the worth and potential of their child.
Behavioral economics offers surprisingly practical ways to shift behavior without shaming anyone. For starters, fear can be reframed. Parents are exquisitely loss-averse, so instead of highlighting what could go wrong, we can focus on what might be lost: “Avoiding age-appropriate experiences now can quietly limit independence later.” Growth can be made the default: automatic inclusion in activities, short trial periods, and a presumption of competence allow for parents to take a first step.
Clarity reduces fear. Rather than vague encouragement, concrete pathways help parents understand exactly what will happen, with safety nets in place: “Here’s what happens on day one, week three, and if it doesn’t work.” Peer stories matter more than expert advice—parents trust other parents who share their experience. Hearing that “we didn’t think our child was ready either” and “here is how we navigated the barriers” can normalize risk and make inclusion feel possible.
It’s important to acknowledge that a parents’ natural instinct is to protect their child. Rather than telling a parent that they shouldn’t be so protective, we can redirect. Instead of “letting go,” parents can “add supports so their child can try.” Instead of “pushing,” they can “practice independence safely.” Small, time-bound experiments can build confidence, reshape beliefs, and create momentum. And professionals must model the right behavior; over-cautious language or deficit-focused reports inadvertently reinforce parental fear.
Parents aren’t holding their children back intentionally, they’re responding rationally to systems that over-penalize risk and under-support growth. Behavior change rarely happens all at once. It unfolds gradually through repeated experiences, small successes, and supportive structures. Over time, habits shift, expectations rise, and even identity transforms.
At its core, this isn’t just about parenting or policy—it’s about designing environments that unlock human potential. When growth is easier and safer than caution, children with disabilities can thrive. Parents, freed from fear, can act with both love and possibility. And the world begins to see, not just what could go wrong, but everything that could go right.