Integration Station and Response to ECNV Letter of Support from an Integration Station Alumnus

By Joseph Albert
ECNV Independent Living Specialist

Integration Station isn’t just a program that I worry about being shut down. It was where I first received speech and occupational therapy.

As a young child, doctors insisted that speaking normally and being understood was out of reach for me. They said that tasks like holding pencils, processing sensory information, and understanding what people said would all be beyond my ability.

In other words, I would not have the opportunity to be with my peers or experience the educational settings they had.

But it was Integration Station that gave me access to speech therapy, occupational therapy, and the ability to be with my peers. I learned alongside my classmates. I was never made to feel different, and my class even celebrated when I became a citizen of this country.

This experience aligns with the statements in your letter, Dominique, in which you say:

“When children with and without disabilities learn together from the start, it lays the foundation for a more accessible and inclusive community, where all are valued, and accommodations are naturally incorporated into daily life.”

My peers not only saw me as an equal, but they were also exposed to experiences that many children their age are not—experiences of diversity, inclusion, and differing abilities and skills.

Having experienced both integrated and segregated classrooms in Arlington County’s schools, I know firsthand the impact of Arlington investing in inclusive education. It produces real results—results that go far beyond the classroom.

For students like me and countless others at Integration Station, these opportunities mean more than learning to talk or hold a pencil. They mean the chance to live full lives, to be with our families, to interact with our peers, to have jobs, relationships, and even families of our own. They mean the ability to explore the world rather than being isolated from it.

I went to the protest to show support, alongside Maura.  Amid a sea of red “The Children’s School  Integration Station” shirts, students, parents, and supporters huddled together, united—exchanging notes before the school board meeting, hugging, chatting, and chanting. Some helped their children carry and hold signs, while others ferried individuals over to speak to the three or four assorted news crews parked outside on the street.

Young children—not lobbyists or well-prepared speakers—eagerly spoke to the press. These children were being asked to share their personal stories, their struggles, and how Integration Station has been or continues to be an instrumental support for their disabilities.

While parents, teachers, and alumni reconnected and reminisced, I noticed a young child, about four or five years old, holding his father’s hand, his legs swaying with tiredness. However, his eyes were wide with excitement as he saw his peers ahead of him. It hit me—this is about connection, friendship, community, and, most of all, the right to self-determine one’s education.

Maura and I spoke with a father, Integration Station’s principal, and a staff professional. Their honesty reflected uncertainty but also hope—that collective voices might spark change.

It is these individuals that I feel and hope we will continue to support. It is these individuals who are on the ground, with our students who bring out the best and brightest of Arlington and Northern Virginia.

However If proposals continue as they are, I worry that they and their families will choose to leave.

As of now, I hope for positive news, and change that sides with integration.

Before I end this email, I want to share a particularly striking moment: seeing a child hold a sign asking, “Where will I go?”—a question the school board’s budget has yet to answer clearly, as insufficient spaces exist in the Community Peer Program.

The students’ determination, and tenacity chanting “Save our school!” inspired hope and left a lasting impact on me.

Regardless, in the end the haunting question remains: Where will they go?

Thank you, Dominique, and everyone at ECNV, for supporting this crucial program. I hope you enjoy the photos.