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If you've ever sat across from a new teacher, a new aide, a new support worker, or a new therapist and felt that familiar exhaustion before you've even said a word, this one's for you.
The exhaustion of starting again. Of being the expert on your child that everyone needs you to be, over and over, to person after person, year after year.
"So tell me a bit about her."
And you take a breath. And you begin. Again.
Her diagnosis. Her strengths. What she finds hard. What helps. What definitely doesn't help. The specific way she needs things explained. The sensory stuff. The anxiety stuff. The things that look one way on the surface and are actually something completely different underneath.
By the time you've finished, you're flat. And you haven't even got to the actual meeting yet.
We did this for years. Every new person, every new year, every new setting. The same story, told a hundred different ways, hoping something landed.
And then we created an About Me document.
"This is bloody brilliant."
That was the first thing a teacher said when we handed it over instead of sitting down for another forty-five minute handover.
She read it before our daughter started. She came back with specific questions. She already understood her before she walked through the door.
That had never happened before.
And honestly? That moment is exactly why we eventually turned it into something we could share with every family in our community.
A bit of context from both sides of the desk
I spent years working as an early childhood educator and primary school teacher before navigating disability parenting myself. So I've sat on both sides of this.
And I can tell you as someone who has been that teacher sitting across from a parent at the start of the year, walking in with an About Me document is a completely different experience to going in blind.
You're not spending the first weeks trying to figure out what helps. You're not accidentally triggering something that could have been easily avoided. You're not waiting for a hard moment before you understand what's actually going on.
You already know the child.
That's a gift. For the teacher. And more importantly, for the child.
What it is
A few pages. Human. Written in plain language.
Not a medical file. Not a formal report. Something that captures who your child is, what they need, and how to support them, in a way that anyone can pick up and actually use.
Once you have it, the work is done. You update it as things change, but you never start from scratch again.
The part I love most
The "I can struggle with / this can help" section.
And the reason I love it is because it's not generic.
There's a big difference between "when Bobby is overstimulated, offer a fidget toy" and "when Bobby is overstimulated, take him out of the environment for a few minutes, read his favourite book together, and then slowly reintroduce him."
One is a guess, stock standard approach. The other is what actually works — for your child, in your child's life, written by the person who knows them better than anyone.
That specificity is everything. Because the people working with your child are often trying their best with very little to go on. They're not mind readers. They're not failing your child on purpose. They just don't know yet.
This section tells them. Clearly. Before a crisis, not during one.
And that changes things.
Constant advocacy is exhausting, and this helps
The relentless, everyday advocacy of disability parenting isn't just the big stuff — the NDIS meetings, the school reviews, the pushing for assessments and funding. It's the small, invisible, never-ending kind.
Re-explaining your child's needs to a casual aide on a Tuesday morning. Writing the same email to a new staff member for the fifth time. Starting from scratch with a new therapist who is lovely but has never met your child before.
It wears you down in a way that's really hard to describe unless you've lived it.
An About Me document doesn't take that away entirely. But it gives people a starting point, one that actually respects your child's complexity, and quietly gives you some of your energy back.
Now she helps write it herself
This is the bit that gets me every time.
She's been part of this document for years. In the early days we wrote it for her, with her in mind. But as she's got older she's started contributing herself, making changes, adding things, telling us what she wants people to know.
And now there are two sets of opinions on it. Which is, of course, very fun. ("Say this mum", "that sounds cringe, don't say that", "make sure this is in bold", "add a sticker here that says important.")
There is something really powerful about a child being able to hand someone a document and say: here, this is me, in my own words.
It gives her confidence walking into new spaces. She knows that the people around her already know her. She doesn't have to prove herself or hope for the best or wait for someone to figure out what she needs. They already know.
That feeling of being known before you even walk through the door, it matters. Especially for kids who spend a lot of their life feeling misunderstood.
What the Kindship About Me template covers
We've structured ours to start with the good stuff first, the get to know them stuff, because your child is so much more than their diagnosis.
A bit about me — who they are, their personality, what they love, what they're proud of. This section sets the tone for everything that follows. A whole person, not a list of needs.
Strengths — what they're good at, what comes naturally, what lights them up.
Interests — the things that make them tick. More useful than you'd think, a good teacher will use this constantly.
Goals — what they're working on, what they want to get better at. Keeps the focus on growth, not just support.
Medical and the essentials — medications, equipment, anything someone needs to know for daily life and safety.
About their diagnosis — in plain language, and more importantly, what it actually looks like for your child day to day. Because a diagnosis tells you very little. What they actually experience tells you everything.
I can struggle with / this can help — the most-used section. Specific situations, specific strategies. The thing that makes this document actually work.
Contacts — who to call, and when.
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You can share it with anyone
School is the obvious starting point and honestly where it makes the biggest difference year to year.
But once you have it, it becomes the document you share with everyone who comes into your child's world.
New support workers. Respite carers. Therapists. The holiday program. The sports coach who's never worked with a child with a disability before but is absolutely giving it a go.
And yes, you can absolutely send it to that family member. At least now when they have two cents, it's not based entirely on "oh but all children do that."
You don't have to start from scratch with any of them.
You just share it.
If this sounds helpful, come grab ours
We've been using and refining our About Me template for years, and we've made it available for any family who wants it.
It's free. Fill it in, make it yours, and start sharing it straight away.
If you'd like a copy, pop your details in the link below and we'll send it straight to you.
[Grab the free About Me template →]
