On the morning of Sunday, March 21, the sanctuary at Alfred Street Baptist Church was full, not just with worship, but with possibility. As undergraduate and graduate students from American University sat alongside children, families, and ministry leaders, something shifted. This was not a practicum. It was not a field placement. It was a living, breathing example of what happens when institutions step beyond their traditional boundaries and commit to building spaces where children with disabilities are not accommodated as an afterthought, but embraced as central to community life. 
As a professor of special education and a lifelong advocate shaped by my own experiences with a communication disability, I have spent years preparing future educators to create inclusive classrooms. Yet, I have also wrestled with a persistent question: What does inclusion look like beyond the walls of schools? Too often, our work in special education is confined to compliance-driven systems such as IEPs, service minutes, and procedural safeguards, while children and families continue to navigate exclusion in the very spaces meant to nurture their identities, faith, and sense of belonging.
This partnership between American University School of Education and Alfred Street Baptist Church was born out of that tension. It is a deliberate effort to reimagine where and how inclusion happens. Through this collaboration, students in our undergraduate special education program and Master of Arts in Teaching program are serving as Inclusion Interns, supporting children with disabilities across ministries. They are not only applying instructional strategies and behavior supports, they are learning how to cultivate dignity, belonging, and joy in real time, in a space where education, spirituality, and community intersect.
From a Disability Critical Race Theory perspective, this work is not simply about access. It is about disrupting the systems that have historically marginalized children at the intersection of race and disability. This framework reminds us that ableism and racism are deeply intertwined, shaping who is seen as fit for participation and who is pushed to the margins. In both educational and religious institutions, these systems often operate invisibly, reinforced by norms that privilege certain ways of communicating, behaving, and existing.
Faith based spaces, particularly within Black communities, have long served as sites of refuge, resistance, and collective care. Yet, they are not immune to exclusion. Children with disabilities and their families are too often left to navigate participation without adequate support, or worse, made to feel as though they do not fully belong. This partnership challenges that reality by embedding inclusion into the fabric of ministry, not as a separate program, but as a shared responsibility.
For our teacher candidates, this experience is transformative. It moves them beyond theoretical discussions of Universal Design for Learning and culturally responsive pedagogy into embodied practice. They are learning to respond to sensory needs during worship, to facilitate peer interactions during youth programming, and to adapt lessons in ways that honor both developmental diversity and cultural context. In doing so, they are developing a more expansive understanding of what it means to teach and whom teaching is for. But the implications of this work extend far beyond one university and one church.
First, teacher preparation programs must expand their vision of clinical practice. If we are serious about preparing educators who can meet the needs of all learners, we must create opportunities for them to engage with children and families in community based settings. Schools do not exist in isolation, and neither should teacher education.
