TL;DR
Talking to kids about disability doesn't have to be a "hushed tones in the grocery store" situation. In fact, it shouldn't be. Using picture books like Just Ask! or What Happened to You? takes the pressure off you to have all the "right" words and lets the story do the heavy lifting.
Top Recommendations:
- Best for Preschoolers: All of Us: A First Conversation About Disability
- Best for School-Age: You're SO Amazing!
- Best for Neurodiversity: A Day With No Words
- Best for Digital Follow-up: Carl the Collector or Sesame Street
We’ve all been there. You’re in line at the store, your five-year-old spots someone in a motorized wheelchair or someone using sign language, and they loudly ask, "Why is that man doing that with his hands?" or "What's wrong with her legs?"
The instinct is to shush them, offer a quick "don't point," and move away as fast as possible. But here’s the thing: shushing creates a "taboo" around disability. It sends the message that disability is something shameful or scary that we don't talk about.
If we want to raise kids who are inclusive and empathetic—the kind of kids who see a peer with an AAC device and think "cool tool" rather than "weird kid"—we have to lean into the curiosity. Picture books are the ultimate parenting cheat code here. They provide a low-stakes, high-impact way to answer big questions before they happen in the wild.
According to recent data, about 1 in 6 children in the U.S. has a developmental disability. That means your kid will encounter someone with a different body or brain—in their classroom, on the playground, or in their favorite Roblox server.
When we don't talk about it, kids fill in the blanks themselves. Often, they assume disability is "sad" or that the person is "broken." Books help flip that narrative to one of accessibility and identity.
When picking books, look for "Own Voices" stories—books written by disabled authors. They tend to avoid the "inspiration porn" tropes (where the disabled character only exists to teach the main character a lesson) and instead focus on real, relatable experiences.
Ages 2-5 This is part of the "First Conversations" series, and it is brilliant. It’s direct. It uses the word "disability" (which isn't a bad word, by the way). It explains that some people are born with disabilities and some get them later, and it shows tools like feeding tubes and service dogs as normal parts of life.
Ages 3-8 This is the "anti-don't-point" book. It’s about a boy named Joe who only has one leg and just wants to play pirates. Every kid on the playground keeps asking "What happened?" and Joe just wants to play. It’s a great way to teach kids that while curiosity is okay, disabled people don't owe you their medical history.
Ages 4-9 A follow-up to the book above, this one tackles the "inspiration" trap. Joe gets frustrated because people call him "amazing" for doing totally normal things like eating a sandwich or going to school. It’s a funny, sharp look at how we should treat disabled people as people, not as superheroes just for existing.
Ages 4-10 If you want to talk about neurodivergence and non-verbal communication, this is the gold standard. Written by an autistic mother, it follows a boy who uses a tablet (an AAC device) to communicate. It’s beautiful, it’s colorful, and it shatters the myth that "non-verbal" means "nothing to say."
Ages 4-12 Justice Sotomayor (who has Type 1 diabetes) wrote this to encourage kids to ask questions rather than stare. It covers everything from ADHD and autism to blindness and allergies. It uses a garden metaphor—different plants need different things to grow—which is a concept even toddlers can grasp.
Books are the foundation, but your kids are likely spending time with digital media, too. Representation there is getting better, but it’s still a mixed bag.
This is a brand new series (2024/2025) featuring a lead character who is an autistic raccoon. It’s the first PBS show to center a neurodivergent lead, and it’s excellent because it focuses on Carl’s passions and friendships, not just his "struggles."
We have to give it up for Julia, the autistic Muppet. Sesame Street put in the work with experts to make her character authentic. If your kid asks about a classmate who "flaps their hands" or covers their ears, watching a Julia clip is a great follow-up.
The show introduced Max, who is autistic, and Chrissie, who uses crutches. It’s handled with the typical Daniel Tiger gentleness—explaining things simply and moving on to the play.
You don't need a PhD in disability studies to talk to your kids. You just need to be honest. Here are a few rules of thumb:
- Use the right words. It’s okay to say "disability." It’s okay to say "blind" or "deaf." Avoid euphemisms like "special needs" or "differently abled" unless a specific person asks you to use them. Most advocates prefer plain, direct language.
- Focus on the "Tools." Instead of saying "He can't walk," try "He uses a wheelchair to get around, just like you use a bike to go fast." It frames the disability around autonomy rather than deficit.
- Address the "Stare." If your kid stares, don't just pull them away. Say, "I see you're curious about that man's hearing aid. It helps him hear sounds better, just like my glasses help me see."
- Highlight similarities. "She uses a tablet to talk, but look—she’s wearing a Minecraft shirt just like yours! I bet she loves building in Creative Mode, too."
In the digital world, disability often shows up in "life sim" games.
- Roblox: Many creators are building inclusive avatar items (wheelchairs, hearing aids, etc.). If your kid is into character customization, point these out! It's a way to normalize these items in their virtual world.
- YouTube: Be careful with "vlog" style content about disability. Some of it is educational, but some can be exploitative. Stick to channels like Squirmy and Grubs (for older kids/teens) which show a real, funny, non-tragic look at disability and relationships.
The goal isn't to make your child an expert; it's to make them a neighbor.
By using picture books as a starting point, you’re giving your child a vocabulary for diversity before they’re ever put on the spot. You’re teaching them that a wheelchair is just a way to move, an AAC device is just a way to talk, and a different kind of brain is just a different way to experience the world.
Next time you're at the library, grab A Little Like Magic or Monster Hands. Read them not as a "lesson," but just as a great story. That’s where the real magic happens.
- Audit your bookshelf: Do you have at least 2-3 books where a character has a disability but the story isn't about the disability? (This is called "incidental representation.")
- Check the apps: If your kids play Toca Life World, show them how to add hearing aids or prosthetics to their characters.
- Take the Screenwise Survey: See how your family’s media diet stacks up when it comes to diversity and inclusion.