31/07/2026
Dear friends, colleagues, and partners,
I want to tell you why We R Only Human exists. Not the mission statement version. The real one.
I am the mother of four children with developmental disabilities. Eleven years ago, I survived cancer. The radiation treatment left its mark on my brain. I am not ignorant. I am not less than. But I had to learn how to rebuild my life, to navigate a world that was not built for me or my children, and to live as someone who is differently abled.
I am a person with a disability. My children are people with disabilities. Notice the word person comes before the word disability. That is not an accident. That is the philosophy this organization was built on. The person comes first. Always.
Where is the empathy?
I have sat in meetings with teachers who spoke about my children as if they weren't right there in the room. My kids are not quiet. They are not still. They are jumping up and down, making noises, full of life and energy and joy. And I have watched educators look at them and see only the noise, only the behavior, never the child behind it.
I have heard the whispers. I have seen the pity. And I have seen something worse than pity. I have seen indifference.
I know something about being seen that way too. There are days when my brain stutters, when a word I have known my whole life just disappears, and I can see it on their faces. I have had bosses who looked at me like I didn't belong. Who questioned my competence over a paused sentence, never knowing that the word I lost came from radiation that saved my life. They do not know that I earned my Bachelor's degree on my couch, throwing up between assignments, in the middle of chemotherapy. They see a woman who stutters and they decide who she is.
How can anyone truly understand what it means to live with a disability unless they have lived it? Not read about it in a textbook. Not watched a documentary from their couch. Lived it.
So we built something. Not a training manual. Not a PowerPoint. Something you can feel.
We R Only Human is a 501(c)(3) public charity based in Shirley, Suffolk County. We exist to do one thing: put people inside the lived experience of disability so they can never un-feel it.
Here is how it works:
Escape Your Apathy is an immersive, portable experience. We bring it to you. We set up a sensory augmented environment that simulates what it feels like to navigate the world with a developmental disability. The noise. The overwhelm. The frustration of trying to communicate something you know in your mind but cannot make your body or your voice deliver. For 90 minutes, participants don't just learn about disability. They live it. Every session serves 6 to 8 people and we can run it anywhere a school, a hospital, a firehouse, a police station, a community center.
Then there is Pathways a digital platform where participants practice what they felt. Real scenarios. A child melting down in a grocery store. An elderly patient who cannot find the words. A coworker who processes differently than you do. We track their growth with pre and post assessments. Are they actually getting better at this? The data tells us.
And then there is The Blueprint Collective. Because one training does not change a person. A community does. Monthly sessions where the people we trained come back together healthcare workers, teachers, first responders, caregivers. They share what worked, what didn't, what they are still struggling with. They build each other up. That is how empathy becomes a skill, not just a moment.
I wrote The Blueprint Directory, a comprehensive resource guide connecting families across Long Island to disability services they didn't know existed. I wrote The Collaborative Blueprint to help organizations work together instead of in silos. I wrote Learning Curve, an NCLEX study guide designed for neurodivergent nursing students, because in our world, the way we take a test should not define who we are and where we can go in life, it didn't for me no matter what I was told.
I did not read about this in a book. I wrote the books. And I live this every single day. Every person on our board and every partner we work with knows that this organization was not founded on theory. It was founded on the kitchen table of a family that decided the world needed to do better.
We are based in Shirley, Suffolk County. If you don't know Shirley, it is the kind of place that gets forgotten. It sits in the middle of Long Island, far from the wealth of the Hamptons and far from the resources of Manhattan. The communities around us Mastic, Riverhead, Bellport, Ridge they are working class. They are underserved. And they are full of families raising children with developmental disabilities who have nowhere to turn.
I know because I was one of those families. I have spent years sitting on hold with OPWDD. I have sat in school meetings where no one explained my rights to me. I have helped over 200 other families navigate the same maze. Not because I was paid to. Because I lived it. Because when you find your way through, you do not close the door behind you. You hold it open for the next person.
Our programs are for people who will be hands-on taking care of our children when we are not with them. The nursing students who are about to enter the field and have never been taught what disability looks like beyond a textbook. The CNAs who are doing the hardest work in the room for the lowest pay. The home health aides who show up at someone's door with a checklist and no understanding of who that person is. The caregivers. The nurses. The teachers. The people we entrust with our children. The people who show up every day and are expected to care for someone with a disability without ever being taught what that actually means.
How do we know it works? Because we measure it. Not with fancy reports that nobody reads. With real people telling us what changed. Every person who goes through Escape Your Apathy takes a 12-item assessment before and after. We measure five things: Do they understand disability better? Can they see the world from someone else's perspective? Do they feel more confident? Do they actually have the skill? And can they interpret what they are seeing when they encounter someone with a disability? Our target is 80% showing improvement. We don't just hope they learn. We check.
But here is what matters more than any number. Did a CNA walk into a room and see a person instead of a diagnosis. Did a nursing student pause before reacting to a patient who processes differently. Did a teacher speak to a child instead of about them. That is the measurement that means something. And that is the one we are after.
How you can help:
Partner with us If your organization serves families, trains caregivers, or works with people with disabilities, we want to collaborate. Reply to this email and let's talk.
Book a training We bring Escape Your Apathy to you. Schools, hospitals, agencies, first responder units. 90 minutes that change how your team sees the people they serve.
Donate Every dollar goes directly to programming on Long Island. Visit weronlyhuman.simdif.com to give.
Spread the word Forward this email to anyone who needs to read it. There are families out there who don't know we exist yet.
Thank you for taking the time to read this. I didn't write this as a grant application or a newsletter. I wrote it as a mother, a nurse, and a person with a disability who decided that empathy isn't a soft skill, it's infrastructure. And it starts with feeling it.
With gratitude,
Stacey Reeve, RN, BSN
Founder & Executive Director
We R Only Human Inc.
(631) 335-9514 [email protected]
weronlyhuman.simdif.com
No one person should have to walk this journey alone!
