A Time for Hope: A Room That Reminds Us We Belong

The other day, I had the privilege of walking through a space I never knew I needed—a quiet sanctuary tucked within the heart of a bustling airport. As I stepped into the Indianapolis International Airport Sensory Room, I felt something rare and sacred: my family was seen. And it just felt right.

That moment came just as I launched my new blog,
A Time for Hope, in partnership with The Arc of Indiana—a space to share stories, lift voices, and offer real support to families like mine. Walking alongside an organization committed to serving, supporting, and advocating for our families and loved ones is a privilege.

Our work is tough, often thankless, and difficult to measure. But our work is necessary.

This week, the CDC released updated data showing that autism now affects 1 in 31 eight-year-old children—up from 1 in 36 in 2020 and a dramatic rise from 1 in 150 in the year 2000. Whether this increase is due to greater awareness or improved diagnostics, one truth remains undeniable: the need for support, education, and community has never been greater.

Greater understanding leads to deeper empathy. And empathy leads to a world where we all belong—where differences are not feared but embraced. A world like that doesn’t happen by accident. It happens when people choose to create it.

For many families like mine, travel isn’t a vacation—it’s a mountain to climb. Airports can feel like war zones of overstimulation: 

• Fluorescent lights that sting the eyes

• Loudspeaker announcements that jolt the nerves

• Crowds that press in from every side 

For children (and adults) living with disabilities or sensory sensitivities, these environments can quickly lead to overload, meltdowns, or panic. And for parents, it’s heartbreaking to watch your child struggle just to exist in a place that offers them no refuge. Too often, families choose not to travel at all. 

But at Indianapolis International Airport, something beautiful is happening. 

A Thoughtful Space to Exhale 

When I stepped into the sensory room, I felt it immediately—a hush, a softness, a deep sense of being seen.

• The lighting was soft and gentle.

• The furniture was cozy and calming.

• The colors were intentionally peaceful.

These rooms were clearly designed with care. There were sensory tools and textures to explore, a safe space within the space to decompress, and even an adult-sized changing table—because dignity doesn’t end in childhood. These rooms serve not just children but anyone who needs a place to pause, regulate, or regroup.

The Hands Behind the Healing 

Behind these beautifully designed spaces? Two women. Two mothers. But here’s the part that may surprise you—they are not mothers of children with disabilities. Neither of them has a neurodivergent child. Neither stood to gain anything personally from this effort.

So, what moved them to act?

One word: compassion.

That rare and beautiful kind that drives people to create solutions for challenges they do not face themselves—because they recognize the need and care anyway.

Maria Wiley, Senior Director of Audit, Risk Management & Procurement, and Kimberly Thomas, Audit and Compliance Coordinator, turned vision into reality. Through their leadership, collaboration, and relentless dedication, these rooms came to life—crafted by hands full of love and hearts full of purpose.

They didn’t need to do this. But they chose to.

Because empathy isn’t about proximity—it’s about action.

More Than a Room—An Invitation

What they’ve built is more than two rooms. It’s an invitation. An acknowledgment.A message that says: We see you. You belong here, too.

To Maria and Kimberly—thank you.

Thank you for choosing empathy.

Thank you for modeling what it looks like to lead with love.

Thank you for reminding us that when we create space for one another, we create a better world for us all.

May this be the beginning of many more doors opening, and many more families finding the courage to take the journey—because now, there is a place for them to rest along the way.

If you’ve ever felt unseen in a world that moves too fast to notice, I hope you’ll follow A Time for Hope. Together, we can share more than stories—we can build bridges. 

To learn more about the Indianapolis International Airport Sensory Rooms, visit:
ind.com/sensory-rooms

To read the CDC Report: CDC reports

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