Wadzanai Bepe having fun with students in a mainstream classroom. Photography by Katie Fellows
At 23, fresh from college and standing in her first classroom, she felt the weight of being a pioneer — the first Black teacher many of these students had ever encountered.
But she drew strength from her faith. “I was at a church school,” she recalls. “And I believed I could overcome any challenge with the Lord on my side."
Then she met her student, Adam.
On paper, Adam had everything going for him. He came from a prominent Adventist family — his father was an elder, his mother a deaconess, and his older sisters were college graduates. But as the weeks went by, Wadzie noticed concerning patterns.
While most third graders read chapter books, Adam struggled to recognize words beyond his name. Initial strategies that helped other struggling readers, like lessons in phonics, extra practice, and one-on-one attention during class, didn't help. He needed more than textbook support.
After consulting his parents, she learned more.
“His parents had always known he was different,” says Wadzie, who now serves as special education coordinator for the Lake Union Conference.
“When he was a toddler, he had erratic sleeping patterns, so they built him a special room. But when it came to his education, they didn't have access to the kind of specialized support he needed.”
It became clear to Wadzie that she needed more than her standard teaching toolkit.
“I realized I needed more than what I had learned in college,” she says. “This went beyond typical reading difficulties.” Adam required a different approach.
She understood it was her responsibility to stand in the gap for Adam. And that by providing the proper support, she could bridge the distance between his current abilities and his potential.
That realization would spark a journey of advocacy that would span continents and transform countless lives, including her own. But first, she had to navigate the immediate challenges before her.
Like many Adventist educators, Wadzie taught multiple grades in the same classroom. “I had third and fourth graders together,” she explained. “This meant balancing different lesson plans and developmental stages.”
Yet, amid juggling these daily demands, Adam’s needs remained at the forefront of her mind.
Today, statistics show that approximately 15% of public-school students receive special education services. In a typical classroom of 21 students, three likely need accommodations.1
But back then, in that classroom in Zimbabwe, Wadzie only knew she had a student who needed help and was determined to find a way.
She began staying after school to tutor Adam; his parents drove 30 minutes each way to accommodate the extra sessions. For two semesters, they worked together, but progress remained elusive.
Eventually, Wadzie recognized the signs of dyslexia and knew she needed to push for professional evaluation — something that, to her knowledge, had never been done before at their church school.
“It was a struggle,” she remembers. “I had to jump through a lot of hoops because public school psychologists handled these evaluations, and I was at a church school. Thankfully, the principal was highly supportive, and the parents — who were influential in the community — also backed the initiative.”
Their persistence paid off. Adam received an evaluation and diagnosis, which led to tailored accommodations and teaching strategies that helped him thrive. He went on to earn a national diploma in fine arts and is now a successful fine artist and graphic designer, with his work displayed in several galleries.
“That experience opened my eyes to the world of special education,” Wadzie says. “I started wondering what other disabilities were out there, why resources weren't widely available, and how I could continue to stand in the gap for students.”
Just as Christ stands in the gap and advocates for us before the Father, Wadzie found herself called to advocate for students who needed someone in their corner.
“I have always been drawn to students who struggle,” she says. And her advocacy journey eventually led her across the pond.
At age 32, Wadzie arrived in the United States and faced the daunting task of navigating an entirely new educational system. She found her entry point through substitute teaching in special education classrooms.
“It was a small group instruction setting, which felt like a softer landing for me,” she explains. “While adjusting to the differences in the American system, I could focus on working closely with students who needed extra support.”
What began as a “softer landing” would become solid ground as she pursued her master’s in special education at Indiana University South Bend, followed by a post-graduate certificate in intense interventions. For the next 13 years, she taught in Mishawaka, Indiana, where each year brought new challenges and revelations about the diverse needs of students with disabilities.
Her calling to advocate for students would continue to shape her path, deepening her expertise in special education and preparing her to work with students with multiple disabilities, including specific learning disabilities, autism, muscular dystrophy and spina bifida.
Over the years, she’s witnessed countless transformations. There was a Ukrainian student with autism who progressed from sitting alone crying to confidently advocating for herself.
“She went from being unable to ask for a pencil to being able to tell people, ‘I have autism, and I don't look at people in the eyes because it hurts my eyes,’” Wadzie shares.
Or a student with emotional disabilities who would freeze in class, unable to move or speak.
“I would just sit with him on the floor silently,” she recalls. “Eventually, he asked, ‘Are you just going to sit there?’ and I said, ‘Yep, I thought that’s what we’re doing.’ That simple exchange opened the door to a conversation, allowing me to help him process his emotions so he could follow through on what was expected.”
These experiences taught her that, just as God meets each of us where we are, every student requires personalized support tailored to their unique needs and circumstances.
“Even within the same disability category, you’ll find considerable diversity,” she explains. “Students with similar disabilities shouldn’t be grouped together and expected to behave the same way.”
The physical space requirements for truly inclusive education can also be daunting, particularly for smaller schools.
“Take something as basic as bathroom accessibility,” Wadzie explains. “A student with muscular dystrophy might need grab bars and someone nearby to assist them. Many of our schools don't have these resources yet, making it difficult to enroll that student. But some accommodations can still be made, such as allowing that student to attend school for half the day before going home for personal care.”
Yet perhaps one of the most vital resources isn’t physical at all — it's fostering an environment where these students learn to advocate for themselves. Wadzie developed a practice of having students create self-introduction cards before transitioning to middle school, explaining their needs and learning styles to new teachers.
“When students can confidently say, ‘I need more time to read’ or ‘I process information differently’ without shame, that’s a success,” she says. “They learn that their disability is just one part of who they are, not their defining characteristic. It’s important for them to understand that no one is perfect, yet God loves us all the same.”
“Sometimes educators worry about not having all the right equipment or training,” Wadzie observes. “But even a simple understanding can make a difference.”
Adjustments can significantly improve focus and classroom management. For example, using a compression vest for a kindergartener who needs deep physical pressure to stay calm or providing a student with ADHD an alternate seat that allows them to wiggle while they work.
Similarly, offering extra time for tasks or incorporating assistive technologies like text-to-speech for students with dyslexia can help create a more inclusive learning environment.
“Small, thoughtful accommodations like these can significantly improve access to the curriculum,” says Wadzie. “We can implement these solutions now while simultaneously working toward larger, long-term changes."
Throughout her career, Wadzie has learned that successful advocacy requires partnership with parents.
“Being a parent of a child with special needs can be incredibly challenging,” she notes. “Sometimes parents just need someone to listen to their perspective — to truly hear their perspective.”
By working closely together, educators and parents can exchange strategies that support a child’s success both at school and at home. For example, if a student benefits from using a reading tracker in the classroom, teachers can share that insight with parents, who may introduce the same tool at home to reinforce learning.
Wadzie recalls one mother who initially disagreed with her educational approach for her son. Though they didn’t see eye to eye in that first meeting, Wadzie still took the time to listen. Years later, that same mother insisted on enrolling her younger son in Wadzie's class.
“The parent told the principal that I was one of the few people who actually took the time to listen to her,” she shares. “Even when we can’t do everything a parent requests, listening to their hopes and concerns for their child can make all the difference.”
This collaborative approach reflects Wadzie's belief that everyone — teachers, parents and students themselves — has a role in creating meaningful, inclusive education. “With the right attitude and God’s guidance, we can cater to their needs.”
As the special education coordinator, Wadzie now works to ensure teachers across the Lake Union have the resources and training they need to support all students. She conducts workshops on learning differences, disabilities and engaging gifted students. She also promotes use of resources available on the North American Division's REACH website for students with learning differences and provides consultative services for Pre-K to grade 12 schools.
“Students with disabilities belong in our schools and are already an integral part of our education community. We need to identify them and implement appropriate early interventions so we can make a meaningful and lasting impact on their development.”
Wadzie sees her role as extending beyond just academic support.
“Understanding learning differences and uncovering how students learn best is vital for their self-esteem, as well as their social and emotional development,” Wadzie explains. “Meaningful inclusion is a reflection of what God does for us. Despite our differences, we are all valued. He meets all of us where we are.”
Advocacy will always be a crucial part of supporting our students. But for Wadzie the most fulfilling part is helping students overcome their challenges.
“The most fulfilling part of my work? Empowering students to advocate for themselves, helping them see that their disabilities are just one part of their lives — not their identity — and guiding them to believe that, with God’s help, they can overcome their challenges.”
Reflecting back to that young teacher in Zimbabwe, Wadzie marvels at how God used one student to reveal her life's calling. “If we want inclusion,” she says, “we can achieve it. With the right attitude and God’s guidance, we can better cater to all students’ needs.”
Just as Adam's story opened her eyes to the world of special education, Wadzie now works to open doors for students across the Lake Union, ensuring that students have access to Adventist education in a way that meets their unique needs and provides equitable opportunities for growth and success.
Wadzie embodies Christ’s example of meeting people where they are and advocating for those who need support. It’s a ministry of presence, patience and persistence — one student, one teacher, one school at a time.
Danni Thaw is a freelance writer.
