June 5, 2025

Where kids thrive

On any given morning, at the Haring Center’s Experimental Education Unit (EEU) at the University of Washington (UW), you might see what Lia Soneson describes: “a group of boisterous, happy kids with a huge range of needs and abilities and all the teachers working together seamlessly integrating learning, fun and exploration throughout.” 

Indeed, you might see a speech therapist kneeling beside a child at the sensory table, a teacher adapting a lesson in real-time for three different learning styles, and a group of kindergarteners laughing together at story time. Some using words, others gestures, all equally engaged. This is where education stops being about fitting children into systems and starts being about building systems around children. 

For Lia and her daughter Svea, diagnosed with Potocki-Lupski Syndrome (PTLS), the path to the EEU was paved by years of collaborative care. “With new diagnoses every few months and major medical hurdles, we had to become experts on Svea when no doctors were. The therapists at Boyer Clinic, our incredible pediatrician, and specialists at Seattle Children’s helped us tackle each challenge one day at a time.” 

When they toured the EEU, Lia felt the culmination of that support network expanding. “[My husband and I] both had tears in our eyes seeing how supportive and caring the environment was. Every single person we talked to and saw interacting with the kids was patient, kind and so supportive.” At the EEU, Svea found not just another program, but a community that deepened what her therapies had built. 

A philosophy of flexibility 

This commitment to meeting children where they are doesn’t just exist in theory at the EEU, it’s lived daily by educators like Pete Hoff (MEd, ’16, Early Childhood Special Education). A veteran kindergarten teacher, Pete embodies the program’s core belief: “We never have to say, ‘We can’t support this child.’”

He shares a story about a student who delighted in flicking the classroom lights on and off, a moment that, to some, might seem like a mere distraction. But Pete and his team chose to look deeper. They saw a spark of curiosity, a child exploring their environment in a way that felt meaningful to them. Rather than redirecting the behavior, they embraced it with empathy and creativity, weaving it into the classroom routine by inviting the student to be in charge of the lights during transitions. This simple shift sent a powerful message: you belong here, just as you are.

This is how every lesson unfolds at the EEU — with flexibility. In a single morning circle, one child may sing along, another points to pictures to communicate, while a third takes breaks when needed. Each child is engaging with the same concepts in the way that suits them best. Teachers move with quiet intention, seamlessly adapting materials, shifting activities and celebrating every form of participation. There’s no single “right” way to engage, only the deeply held belief that when we honor how children naturally learn, real growth follows. 

The impact is tangible. Lia has watched Svea blossom. “She has grown so much this year, and is really comprehending so much more,” she says. She recalls a moment early in the school year: “One of the first few weeks of school, I popped into the observation room… Teacher Pete came over and put his hands low to the ground and said, ‘it’s time to wash your hands, Svea!’ Then he just waited with his hands down there for about 10 seconds… Seeing the kindness and patience of that moment made me immediately start crying.”

Evidence in action

The kind of inclusion families like Lia’s experience at the EEU didn’t happen by accident. It’s built on decades of research and innovation from the Haring Center. Since the 1970s, researchers there have been asking bold questions and developing some of the most trusted approaches in special education. From teaching children with Down syndrome to read when few believed it was possible, to creating Project DATA — an inclusive, school-based model for young children with autism — their work has consistently reshaped what education can look like. Tools like the Building Blocks framework have given teachers across the country practical ways to adapt classrooms so that every child can learn and participate fully. 

At the EEU, that research comes to life in everyday moments, particularly in classrooms where flexibility is the norm and every child is seen as capable. As Principal Chris Matsumoto explains, “Creating a community where everyone is valued and there is a true sense of belonging requires a commitment to inclusion and equity from staff, families and children. It is the commitment, passion and hope of the community that makes inclusion possible at the EEU and beyond.”

Indeed, that sense of belonging is something Lia sees in her daughter every day. Svea lights up when the bus arrives in the morning, and comes home eager to share her world. “When we got the school photo, she spent so long looking at everyone, pointing them all out, trying to say their names. I think she loves observing her peers, and she learns from each of them,” Lia says. These connections don’t just happen; they’re made possible by a classroom designed to welcome and celebrate each child. As Teacher Pete puts it, “Everyone, no matter how they participate, is a valued part of our classroom community.”

Redefining what’s possible

As Svea prepares to transition to a new school, Lia reflects on how meaningful this year has been for their family. “We wish the EEU went through grade five, but are thankful to have had one year,” she says. “The sense of security, support, inclusion and care Svea feels at the EEU is a great foundation that we hope she carries with her into elementary school and beyond.”

Pete sees this transition as part of their mission: “As a training site for future teachers, the EEU’s role is to model radical flexibility and openness to change.” His hope mirrors Lia’s: that inclusive practices will spread, so all children can experience what Svea has at the EEU, a place where, in Pete’s words, “every child deserves to be fully seen, supported and celebrated.” 

For Lia, the lessons extend beyond the classroom. She often speaks of her gratitude for the teachers, the team and the care her daughter receives. Lia expresses appreciation for Raquel, the compassionate bus driver who has stopped the bus multiple times to ensure Svea’s safety that she isn’t having a seizure, and for Nurse Susan, whose unwavering support has been invaluable as they navigate Svea’s various food allergies. Watching the patient, responsive way educators interact with Svea has even influenced how she parents, inspiring more patience and compassion in her own daily life.

And perhaps that’s the EEU’s most powerful contribution: not just in how it teaches children, but in how it challenges adults to rethink what education can be. It’s a place where difference is expected, not accommodated, where students don’t merely join a classroom community but help shape it. 

In doing so, they offer a blueprint for what all schools might become, reshaping our understanding of ability itself. In a world that too often views disability through a lens of limitation, this small school on the UW campus reminds us that difference isn’t a deficit — it’s a reflection of humanity. And with the right support, every child can thrive.

Contact:

Vanessa Stone, stonevm@uw.edu

Assistant Director of marketing and communications, College of Education