A Letter
from our  
  Founder 

I grew up in Louisiana and went through the public school system there, and even as a child I could sense that we weren’t receiving the kind of support or funding we needed. I know that firsthand, because I struggled in school myself.

When I was younger I was held back a grade for behavioral and attention problems — problems I now suspect went undiagnosed. I can still remember how desperately I wanted to participate, to raise my hand and belong like the other kids; I just wasn’t wired to do it in the way I was expected to.

Instead of feeling supported, I was put in a corner and labeled a problem child. So from a very early age I carried a quiet anxiety — a sense that I wasn’t good enough to be included, that something was wrong with me. I didn’t have the help I needed.

I also watched friends of mine fall behind year after year, and many of them eventually gave up and dropped out — by the time I graduated, only about 60 percent of my class made it across the finish line with me. Those weren’t merely numbers to me. They were people I had grown up alongside, friends from my neighborhood, and I saw firsthand what it did to them and their families when no one stepped in to help.

I did not yet have the wisdom or the resources to change any of it...

My mother is the one who gave that promise its weight. When I was young, my grandparents were killed in the deadliest plane crash in Central America’s history, and only a handful of those on board survived.

I grew up hearing stories about grandparents who were no longer there, and those stories became a constant reminder of what truly matters in life:

So when I look back, the path to pediatric therapy makes complete sense. It comes from the friends I watched slip through the cracks with no one there to catch them, and from a mother who taught me that a life is best spent in service of others.

Every child deserves someone who notices when they are struggling and who is willing to show up for them — and that, above all, is why we are here.