It was a crisp, bright Thursday when I pulled into the parking lot of the Tot Spot Early Childhood Center in Brighton. Drop-off had already started, and the entrance bustled with eager kids and equally eager parents.
One mom caught my attention: balancing an infant in one arm, keeping her preschooler from darting in front of cars, and somehow managing a backpack and purse without losing composure. I remember thinking, ‘that’s impressive'.
That set the stage for a deeper look inside Livingston ESA’s Early Childhood Special Education (ECSE) program. What began as a day taking pictures became an inside view of the dedication, creativity, and skill it takes to help young learners with developmental delays thrive.
Inside the Dragonfly classroom, teacher Ashley, an early childhood special education teacher and inclusion specialist, and aide Desiree welcomed us before we all hurried outside to meet the students. Cameras ready, my communications partner and I stood as the first student arrived and three more rolled in on the bus.
When the doors opened, Lynn – a familiar bus driver whose warmth never wavers – lowered each child on the lift, sending them off with enthusiasm and setting a cheerful tone for the day. Ashley and Desiree guided the students inside, juggling children with varying mobility, using gentle redirection and cheerful prompts to lead them toward the classroom.
By the time I stepped through the gate, the students had already dispersed; one headed straight for lunch, another to the racetrack in the corner, a third zipping between toys, and the fourth settled in the center of the action. Ashley and Desiree moved fluidly, anticipating needs and keeping the room balanced.
During lunch, staff modeled grips for holding food and used picture charts and basic American Sign Language (ASL) to help students indicate, “Yes, I like this,” or, “No, I don’t.” The team wove communication, motor skills, and independence into each step.
The day followed a gentle rhythm: sensory play, motor activities, circle time, and a chance to head outdoors. When Ashley spotted another group on the playground, she smiled: “It’s a great day to get them out with their peers,” she said, emphasizing how important inclusion is whenever possible.
The other children welcomed their classmates quickly, showing off slides and swings. Soon, only our four remained, exploring on their own.
While we were still on the playground, two specialists arrived to work with a couple of the students – another glimpse of how many hands support these children’s growth each day.
Weeks after my visit, I reached back out to Ashley and asked how the rewards compared to the challenges of her work.
“As a preschool special education teacher and inclusion specialist, the challenges are real – balancing diverse needs, navigating IEPs, and supporting families or educators new to the process,” Ashley said. “But the rewards far outweigh the challenges. Seeing small but powerful growth in children, fostering friendships through inclusion, and offering families hope make the work deeply meaningful. The joy of play, laughter, and discovery reminds me daily why I do this work – and those moments far surpass the struggles.”
Her words echoed everything I’d observed that day – a blend of skill, patience, and genuine joy. Just as that mother in the parking lot balanced so much with grace, Ashley and Desiree turned each challenge into an opportunity for children to grow.