Square Peg Foundation

Hold your loved ones close this chilly holiday and remember that the gift of Dignity costs you nothing and can mean the world.

I have a love-hate relationship with labels. Labels such as “special needs” or “autism spectrum disorder” can open doors, spark compassion, and create community. But they can also change how you view a person. Knowing how someone is labeled can provide a false sense that you know what makes him tick, know her strengths, understand his limitations. Labels have an insidious way of blinding you to the individual. And it doesn’t just affect people outside the family. In order to be effective advocates within the school system, parents have to spend a lot of time focused on their child’s diagnosis and areas of need within the educational environment. As a result, our vision can become clouded and we can lose sight of our child’s often considerable strengths.

Square Peg is the antidote. It is a place where over the years I have seen my child’s courage and competence blossom. Where I have had the opportunity to see my child through the eyes of people who believe in him and value what he offers them. Where I have had the opportunity to examine my own assumptions and expectations and felt renewed clarity and optimism as a result.

I am immensely grateful to the folks at Square Peg, who don’t seem to be burdened by preconceived notions of what a person is capable of, for their treatment of everyone with dignity and respect, and for seeing the potential in each individual… and doing all that without fanfare or drama. And here’s the unique and very cool thing – this approach is in Square Peg’s DNA. It is not something they do, it is who they are.

We all sense this – the kids, the parents, the dogs, goats, and the horses – and because of it, wonderful things happen.

Your support keeps the wonderful things happening. Here’s how you can help.

On the Eve of Christmas Eve, we thought we’d share a story – about a horse called Eve.

by Kemma Peters

Last May, I was given the opportunity to help train a horse to maybe someday be a lesson horse. At the time it seemed all fun and games. I soon realized, this was going to become my life.

Eve is a little bay mare with a spunky attitude and a lot of fire. She is also smarter than I could ever imagine. She was, however, lazy and not even fit enough to trot a lap around the arena without falling on her face or stopping to pant.

Everyone has dreams. Sometimes those dreams even become reality. When I started riding her, it felt as though my life had found a purpose. She was my project. As I bribed this little brown mare with carrots and cookies, we became a team. Gradually, she began to respect me and trust me.

Perseverance and patience. That was all it took.

She taught me that I need to persevere. She showed me that, even though it may not always seem so, hard work does pay off. She has taught me patience better than any parent or teacher or friend ever could. And out of this patience, we have developed a trust. I trust this horse more than words can say.

There were times when I wanted to give up, where it felt all hope was lost and I was getting nowhere. Then, we would have a perfect ride and I would remember why I cared so much from the beginning. Sometimes, the frustration would make me angry, or even upset sometimes, but I kept going because I knew there was some reason I adored her so much.

We will never go to the Olympics, or the Grand Prix, or Rolex, or any other big name show there is. But I’m okay with that. It would be beyond incredible, but it just won’t happen. All she needs to do is carry a child and help them to enjoy themselves and life. She will be great at that.

And I know someday, another little girl or boy will love her as much as me.

 

by Laurel Mitton

When eighth grade ended, I was not looking forward to summer. All my friends  lived at least an hour’s drive away and I had no way of talking to them. I was prepared for a dreary summer rereading the same books over and over. My summer, in short, might as well not exist.

Then my mom told me about Square Peg. I’ve lived with and on horses since before I was born but out of our original herd of seven, we had only one retired Quarter Horse left. A barn with 20 horses sounded like heaven. Even so, I was still nervous. I hadn’t ever worked in a real barn and I didn’t know how to handle thoroughbreds. I didn’t know what would happen next.

As we drove up the driveway, I saw a line of seven or eight horses poking their heads over the fence of their stalls. A friendly girl met me in the shed row and introduced herself as Tessa. She showed me around and her bubbly personality made me feel at home immediately. Soon Rachel gave me some chores and Tessa helped teach me the routine. A few weeks later Rachel told me to go tack up Bert for my first lesson.

Since then I’ve been riding once a week and coming as many as three times a week to what I consider my second home. By the time my mom picks me up I’m covered in horse dirt, but I couldn’t be any happier to have found such a wonderful community of not just co-volunteers but friends. Everyone at Square Peg, from instructors to riders, treats not only me but each other as family. One big horsey family.

At Square Peg I’ve learned everything from how to balance six rollies, four feed tubs, and three girls on one golf cart to how to wrap polos to how to play Red Rover on horseback to how a good trot can make anyone’s day. I’m grateful to Square Peg for giving me enough confidence in my riding to jump bareback, a happy refuge from everyday stress, and, most importantly, a community of friends I hope will never disappear.

by Davis Finch

Early this year, Joell and Darius decided to adopt a hound from Rocket Dog Rescue.  One Thursday in February, Rocket Dog founder Pali Boucher brought over a couple of hounds to see if one would work, but none of them had the temperament necessary to live in an environment filled with horses, goats, cats and humans that is Square Peg Ranch.  A few weeks later, she returned with a young female bloodhound named Patti that was underweight and skittish but had potential.

The first time I met her Joell had just caught her as she had a habit of running off into the hills and she was leashed and frightened but not aggressive.  The first few weeks she lived at the ranch, she would not let me near her; she would cower and walk away whenever I got close.  While skittish with everybody, she seemed especially fearful around men; even more so large men like me.  I was determined to change that.  So one day when I was in Joell’s house I got down on the floor next to her.  She came over, checked me out, and for once she let me pet her!  As I had hoped, going down to her level made me seem less threatening and thus got her to open up.

Since that day, Patti has been much friendlier towards me.  If I surprise her or she’s upset about something, she still may back away, but that happens increasingly rarely.  It is far more common for her to enthusiastically greet me if I’m outside, or jump up on the sofa beside me if I’m in the house.  She has even become friendlier to children and other men such as my dad.  It has been amazing watching this fearful animal transform into a confident and friendly dog and I like to think I played a role in it.

I am grateful to Pali Boucher and Rocket Dog Rescue for saving Patti from a high-kill shelter in Los Angeles and entrusting her to Square Peg.  I am also grateful to Patti herself for giving me the chance to prove I will not harm her.  Finally, I am grateful to Square Peg for helping creatures in need; be it fearful dogs, unwanted racehorses, or humans with extraordinary gifts and challenges.

Creating meaningful work for people of differing abilities is central to Square Peg’s mission to turn “I wish” into “I can.” 

A journal entry from Carolyn Bielagus – longtime Square Peg rider and now instructor Beany Callaway’s assistant.

by Rebecca Knopf

I wouldn’t have what you call a ‘typical’ post-graduate job. I say to people that I am a riding instructor and then explain the kind of program Square Peg is, but I can never really do it justice by only using words.

My first time to the ranch I got lost. I drove halfway to the landfill, realized my mistake, and had to re-read the directions Rachel emailed me earlier in the week. When I finally did get there I walked up the hill and entered a hectic Saturday morning. The program was being filmed for  America’s Best Horseracing network. So I decided to stay out of the way; I picked up a manure fork and got to work, chatting with the teenage volunteers while mucking stalls and meeting the horses.

I realized this place is different and very special. The kids are valued; their thoughts, comments, and needs are heard, considered and responded to. The horses have their own colorful and vibrant personalities because they’re given the physical and emotional space to bloom and flourish. And parents comfortably trade stories, support, and laughter together without a competitive comparisons of their kids. It is unlike any barn I have ever experienced.

There has not been a “typical week” since… And I started 5 months ago.

 

The schedule and the routine are always in constant flux, but the feeling I had the first day is still the same. I am in awe of the scenic beauty I am surrounded by, as well as the joy that emanates from each person when they jump out of their car and walk, run, or wheel into the barn aisle offering goodies, giggles, and pats to each horse they pass.

Square Peg is more than just a ranch, it’s a paradise– a haven–a comfort and also often a challenge.

It’s a place that Joell, Rachel, Beany, Tucker, Patty, Carter, Panzur, Ace, Roxie, Curtis, Gigi, the nosey coyote, scampering rabbits, and that one hawk, have breathed acceptance, character, life, love and soul into. So when people ask me what I do now that I have graduated college, I just say, “I get to work at this amazing barn and we rescue off-the-track racehorses and serve kids on the spectrum.” People nod and exclaim what a wonderful thing it is that we do. While I don’t disagree, I think that in reality the families and kids I have the opportunity to serve, along with the horses I am able to work with, are cultivating me and shaping me into a more honest, caring and joyful person. Everyone I have met here has added such value to my life and I could not be more grateful. Square Peg is not just a barn, it is…. more.

America’s Best Racing featured Square Peg’s Gigi (this was the filming that was going on for Becca’s first day of work)

 

Yesterday, Beany was sick and Rachel and I divided up her teaching commitments. I taught C – a barely verbal young man whom I hadn’t worked with before. We tacked up Panzur and brought him to the arena.  At the mounting block C looked down at the horse and he hesitated.  I moved to help him but something made me stop. It’s my job to figure out what his hesitation was. Was he scared?  Was he unsure of me? He didn’t seem anxious. I watched. 

Turns out, he wasn’t scared at all. C let the air touch his face, he took the opportunity to bask in that moment just before you get on the horse – that moment before you engage in something exciting and somewhat unsure.  I could see him process and feel that moment – something I’ve never done. 

In that instant, I learned.

I learned that I’d been cheating myself and my students and even my horses of this possibility of reflection, of the few seconds to center oneself and settle into the space and into the moment. It’s like saying “grace” before a meal – just giving thanks and being present. After 47 years on this planet, a young man showed me what giving grace means.  

C got on when he was ready and off we went. He blissed out. He felt every move of Panzur’s body. He giggled, he trilled, he hopped up and down.  He closed his eyes and slung his head and burst out with happy noises. I know in my heart that giving him the time to prepare himself was a key to his joyful state.

 I started to engage and to teach and again I stopped.  I told his mom – I’m just going to keep this horse going and let C enjoy the ride. She and I shrugged our shoulders and smiled from ear to ear.  His rapture continued and it affected the horse, Rachel, who was working another horse in the arena,  his mom and me. I found myself thinking about that pony ride I was on as a little kid where my heart felt like it was going to burst with joy because I was on a horse riding in a park.

Afterward C and I exchanged words and he allowed the dogs to mill around him without panic.  I told him that we might have rain over the weekend (his next scheduled ride) but that the Holiday break was coming up so we would arrange something for him to ride.  I know he understood me – if not my words, my intention that he would be at the ranch riding again soon. I’m grateful to C for reminding me how much I love riding. I’m grateful to his mom for her trust in me explore how far we could go with it. I’m grateful to our kind horses who make it all possible. I’m grateful I can make a difference. I’m grateful for a moment of Grace.

My horse, Panzur, and I have both found a home at Square Peg, even though at first glance, we don’t seem like square pegs at all. Unlike many of Square Peg’s horses, Panzur was never worked hard on the racetrack and then discarded to an uncertain fate at the end of his career. Instead, he has spent his life in fancy show barns, being braided, groomed, acupunctured, and trailered to shows, where he was expected to carry a series of 100-pound teenage girls around jumping courses and then fed excessive amounts of carrots by said teenage girls. While many of Square Peg’s humans spent or are currently spending their childhoods struggling to fit into a school system that doesn’t understand them, I grew up excelling in prep schools and then at Stanford University. While most Square Peg humans view riding simple figures, or even getting up on a horse, to be a challenge, I spent my childhood competing in equitation classes and captaining the Stanford polo team.

Two years ago, some of the luck Panz and I had gotten used to enjoying began to ran out. Panzur reached the end of his show career, and was too big and too rambunctious to be a school horse – I couldn’t find a place for him. Though I had always defined myself by my riding ability and by being a “horse girl”, I hurt my back and learned that I would have to stop riding permanently in order to stay healthy. The deep sadness I felt at losing access to my lifelong passion left me feeling hopeless.

Panzur and I had nowhere to turn, until we found Square Peg. At Square Peg, Panzur found a home where he isn’t just living out his days alone in a pasture, but he gets to use his unique talent for love, affection, and understanding to help people. The rambunctiousness that prevented him from finding a home is miraculously gone – it’s as if Panzur senses that he is carrying people who need to gain comfort and confidence through riding, and he humbly undertakes this important responsibility.

For me, Square Peg is a place I can go where I can feel like a “horse girl” again, even though I can’t ride. Some of the things I miss most about being around horses are things I can still do at Square Peg, like cleaning tack, organizing medicine trunks, or giving horses baths. Hanging out around the other volunteers brings back fond memories of my own days as a “barn rat”, and the accompanying sense of belonging. That’s what I think is so special about Square Peg – belonging. Autistic or not, everyone has felt like a square peg, a misfit, or an outcast. Square Peg is the one place I have found in the world where it’s impossible to feel that way, where everyone fits.

-Laura Hansen
December, 2015

I reached out to Square Peg as a new mother, eager to expand my world beyond the borders of burping, diapers, and the now mandatory yet psychologically damaging New Mother’s Group.  I had grown up with horses but had been away from the horse world for  20 years.  I thought getting back into riding would be a nice outlet.

Shocked to find I was a completely different rider than the one I had been in my youth, I was now cautious, slightly nervous and incessantly playing out “what if” scenarios in my head. Joell patiently brought me back to basics and soon had me racing through the redwoods on retired race horses like Sam, Pearl, and  Jack. Now comfortable (if not always confident) in the saddle, I realized I had not lost my energy, and devil-may-care attitude but simply channeled it into the tiny body of my daughter.

I was gently asked to remove my daughter from her first pre-school.  At the second school my daughter was suspended twice (once for assaulting a teacher).  Other parents and adults begin to cower visibly from the one-two punch of her verbosity and physical aggressiveness.  My child was neuro-typical but was she “special needs?” And what the heck does that mean anyway?  

I once disciplined her with the time honored, “not another word” line in the sand – she looked at me for a few seconds and sang, “LAAA” – she was three at the time. What I found endearing; her intelligence, her bravery, her verbal gymnastics and her wit – other adults found disturbing.

Shortly after the “LAA” incident, my daughter and I wrestled through another situation where she was not allowed out of a “time out” until she apologized – after six hours, she showed no indication she was weakening.  In exhaustion, I called Joell.  “Bring her in to ride,” she said. Although most children start riding at five, Joell felt that my daughter’s command of language and ability (when she wanted to) to follow directions would keep her safe.  Joell, her son, Greg, Sigourney and the pony, Sugar listened to her non- stop chatter, gently re-directed and worked through her challenges, and clearly loved her for who she was.  

She was never seen as a “problem” at Square Peg.  Her many gifts were celebrated; her spirit encouraged and admired.  When she was having trouble with friend’s parents, teachers and even her mother, she was always welcomed, treasured, and given space to be herself at Square Peg.

Today, she’s a happy, positive kid with a large circle of friends.  She rides (still at Square Peg) and she’s doing very well in martial arts (shocker).  She’s a straight-A student and her teachers say that her curiosity and leadership only add to the learning culture of their classrooms.  

When she was a very small child, I felt she was a leader, incredibly bright, gentle (most of the time) and full of good humor.  I wondered if she was not being judged so much on her behavior but on her gender. We expect little boys to be rambunctious in play and action but not little girls where we value peaches and cream complexions and big blue eyes. I speculated that it was her frustration with the lack of speech and cognition in her age group that was leading to her outbursts.  

But it was  Square Peg who embraced and championed her strength and intelligence at this critical time.  Square Peg allowed me to drown out the negative voices and confirmed what I already knew about my daughter.  I’m the one that has grown as a parent and advocate of my child; my kid was never the issue. But then, they always knew that at the Barn…

The Kunze Family Challenge has bet met AND EXTENDED!  Another family has stepped in to create a Second Challenge. Anything you donate by the end of the year will be matched up to $10,000. Your support is CRITICAL to Square Peg.  Thank you ;-)
 
 

Square Peg has changed my whole outlook on myself, the world, and the people around me.

At age seven I didn’t think I was anything special; I had average grades and I never thought I was an outgoing person. I thought I’d lead an average life…. Then my mom introduced me to the Square Peg Foundation, a barn where kids and horses learn to be themselves and love life. Square Peg is more than just a barn, it is a lifestyle. For some families, it can even be called a second home. It becomes a safe and loving place to run away from all the crazy madness this world brings, a place free from judgement and full of opportunity. The horses and people love you for who you are–not what you look like.

After riding for three years I experienced a bad fall. My trainer was teaching me on a lunge-line how to canter, and suddenly a tractor came whirring down a hill. The horse I was riding spooked and high-tailed it straight back to the barn, dumping me onto the gravelled ground. Rocks filled my mouth and brutally dug into my back. No matter how much anyone comforted me, I was convinced I never wanted to canter again. That fall changed my life, and for two years afterwards my trainer remarkably respected and accepted my decision to avoid the canter, allowing me to have a break.

My trainer paired me with Django who I began to ride consistently. I never imagined that Django would allow me to overcome my fear and achieve what I thought was impossible: cantering, jumping, learning to lunge, trail rides, and–best of all–acceptance. Over the next four years we made wonderful memories together until he left for a new home to spend his retirement. Django changed my life and brought me to the conclusion that anything is possible; you just have to believe in yourself to make it happen.

Over the next few months four new horses arrived from the racetrack. Curtis, Finn, Ace, and Owen filled up the barn with all sorts of

personality and injuries. Often, horses that become injured or perform poorly at the track don’t find a useful, loving, or purposeful life afterwards. The horses at Square Peg are all given a second chance. Thanks to the amazing staff, each horse’s personality and strengths are discovered, and are then encouraged to make that horse shine. The horse can then help create a calm, relaxed, safe, and fun place for the trainers to teach and kids to learn.

Everyone should get the opportunity to feel accepted, special, confident, calm, safe, and joyful, and Square Peg is the place that makes that happen. I volunteer countless hours over weekends and during school breaks to help out around the barn and I never regret a minute of it. Each day brings new smiles and adventures. I am grateful to the Square Peg family for helping me lead a very un-average and awesome life!

The Kunze Family Challenge has bet met AND EXTENDED!  Another family has stepped in to create a Second Challenge. Anything you donate by the end of the year will be matched up to $10,000. Your support is CRITICAL to Square Peg.  Thank you ;-)