OPINION:
As a father to two sons with special needs, I know that there is a difference in some respects between my experience and the “typical” parenting experience.
But in the most important respects, there is no real distinction between myself and every other father. I am a father. They are my sons. They’re funny. They’re creative. They’re determined and loving, and they have been a revelation in my life and in the lives of those they know. I love them dearly.
And I, like many other fathers, am determined to do everything within my power to help them live rich, meaningful, independent lives.
If we dads think about anything, we should be thinking about how we are currently developing our children to fulfill their potential, today and every day we are around them.
Some of the most exciting moments in my life as a father have been moments when I realized, suddenly, that we’d discovered ways to develop them in precisely this way.
Early on in their lives, my sons both gained — and then lost — speech. We lost the parent’s “typical” access to their childrens’ interior lives. We had to work very hard to discover how they were feeling or what they were thinking about.
This need led me to start Digital Scribbler, where we create communication apps for people who struggle to communicate verbally. While it wasn’t perfect, it changed everything. All of a sudden, my son Jordan began sharing with us what he was learning in school. For the first time in a long time, we truly saw how he felt and thought.
This breakthrough helped me believe that there’s no limitation my children cannot overcome, especially with the right resources.
Another moment followed the realization that my children would need a community around them to help reach their potential — and that they didn’t need to be secluded to “disability only” programs to experience this.
When Jordan was much younger, he struggled to focus. We had helped start an inclusive soccer program, E-Soccer, in partnership with our church, which includes both children with and without disabilities. Jonathan, our older son, hopped right into the game.
But Jordan wanted to wander. He had no interest in the ball — at all.
So one of our volunteers decided to follow him everywhere he went, putting the ball in front of him now and then. Jordan would go so far as to walk around the ball rather than kick it. But they persisted in following him around.
And one day, after three whole months, Jordan started kicking the ball.
That soccer program has permanently changed the lives of both our sons, my own life, my wife’s life and the lives of everyone who has volunteered or participated.
Part of the reason it has done so is because it refocuses all involved on the mundane but morally essential work of building up other people, day over day.
This work of daily recommitment to the needs of those who are under your care rests at the very core of fatherhood. It doesn’t matter what those needs are or how many people it takes to meet them.
Endeavors like technology apps and sports programs aren’t flashy or glorious work on the day-to-day level, but they’re the most important work we could possibly do. And in the process of trying to maximize our own children’s potential, we’ve discovered that this commitment to our children’s needs bears all kinds of unexpected fruit.
We’ve made friends we never would have otherwise. We’ve been blessed to witness the establishment of multiple joyful, creative, innovative subcultures around us and our church that are dedicated specifically to meeting the special needs of those who have them.
Today, as my sons have grown into young men, I am still learning to let go of my own fears in order to let my sons grow and fulfill their potential.
Whether it’s first dates, taking a ride with a friend on a motor scooter or being a groomsman in a friend’s wedding, I’ve watched them step into unfamiliar experiences and thrive. In these moments, my fears dissipate and I’m reminded that it’s in releasing my fears that I make room for them to grow.
Whatever our children’ dreams or abilities, it’s our role as fathers to recognize their potential and help them grow into it. It’s one of the greatest gifts we can give them.
Making sure your children, typical or not, have the best shot at long-term flourishing isn’t just about fighting against the inertia of the world for your own sake or your child’s. We fathers — and mothers, too — must commit every day in humility and creativity to meeting the needs of the people within our scope of responsibility and care. In doing so, we will produce more than solutions to our own problems; we’ll generate opportunities for others to be uplifted, encouraged and transformed by the same work.
For our family, seeing our children live out their potential began by imagining a better world for tomorrow than our children were living in today. Solving the challenges our children face begins with innovation, and every innovation starts with the ability to envision what others have yet to see.
So make sure you’re doing everything you can to build your children up. You’ll improve many more lives than your own children’s when you do so.
• Russ Ewell has spent the past three decades developing innovative ways for people with disabilities to experience success. He is the CEO of Digital Scribbler Inc., an inclusive technology company, and co-founder of E-Sports, a fully inclusive sports program where both neurotypical and neurodiverse children can learn and play together. He also serves as executive minister of the Bay Area Christian Church.

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