Opelousas, Louisiana, 1998
In 1998, I saw something I had never seen before.
It was at the Lions Camp in Leesville, Louisiana. Among the familiar sights of a playground, there was a swing designed for a child in a wheelchair. It was simple in design, but it changed the way I saw everything that came after.
Until that moment, I had not fully noticed what was missing back home.
In Opelousas, our city parks had playgrounds, but they did not have anything like that. Nothing that would allow a child in a wheelchair to swing. Nothing that made space for them to be part of something so ordinary, and so essential to childhood.
That realization did not sit quietly.
It became a question first. Then a decision.
I started with a conversation with the park superintendent. I wanted to understand what would be possible. What would be allowed. What it would take.
The next step was the Opelousas City Council. I went before them with a simple ask. If I could raise the money, would the city allow accessible playground equipment to be installed in the parks?
The answer was more than I expected.
Not only did they approve the idea, they agreed to match whatever amount I raised.
That changed everything again.
What had started as one idea became something larger. With the combined effort, there was enough funding to install a wheelchair swing and other accessible playground equipment, pieces designed so children with different abilities could play alongside one another, at both city parks. I do not remember every piece that was installed, but I remember what it meant. By December 1998, the equipment was in place.
The following month, in January 1999, there was a dedication ceremony.
But the real moment was not the ceremony.
It was watching my daughter.
She loved to swing. That simple joy, the kind most children take for granted, had not always been within reach. The wheelchair swing changed that. It gave her the chance to feel that movement, that freedom, that belonging.
And it did not stop with her.
Other children, families I may never have known otherwise, now had that same opportunity. A place in the park that was meant for them, too.
It started with noticing what was not there.
And it became something that, once added, felt like it always should have been.
