Nobody Taught Them. Here's What That Could Cost.

My son needed to be reminded, more than once, that certain things belong in private - in his room or in a bathroom, not in shared spaces. That's not unusual for someone with his disabilities, and it required direct, explicit conversation. It didn't stick overnight, but with consistent reinforcement explained in plain English at a level he could understand and using the proper terminology, it stuck. And I mean proper terminology - not euphemisms, not "kitty" or "pee pee" or whatever softer word feels less uncomfortable to say out loud. Using the correct anatomical language isn't just about clarity. A child who doesn't know the right words for their own body parts is a child who struggles to report it when something goes wrong.

As I recovered from this very uncomfortable experience, I thought about all the families who may not be having this conversation. I probably sound judgy - I don't mean to. If my hand hadn't been forced, I doubt I would have worked up the courage to say anything either. And it's not "just" about minimizing embarrassment or protecting privacy. If someone doesn't learn what behaviors are inappropriate, they could get into serious trouble. The gap between "nobody taught them" and "someone called the police" is shorter than most people realize.

Individuals with intellectual and developmental disabilities (I/DD) are significantly overrepresented among people charged with sex-related offenses. A study of more than 3,000 people incarcerated for sexual offenses, conducted by researchers at John Jay College of Criminal Justice and published by the National Institute of Justice1, found that individuals with intellectual disabilities made up nearly one in five of the sample. The Arc’s National Center on Criminal Justice and Disability confirms the pattern and notes that once in the system, individuals with I/DD tend to face harsher outcomes - longer sentences, more time in solitary confinement, and greater vulnerability to victimization by other inmates.

This is not a story about predators. It is a story about an education gap and what falls through it.

The research on why this happens is pretty clear. Some individuals with I/DD have never learned the rules that define acceptable and unacceptable behavior because no one taught them. Concepts like consent, appropriate touch, public versus private behavior, and what a healthy relationship looks like require explicit instruction for everyone, including this population. What seems to happen in real life is that most people absorb these instructions over the years from school, peers, and family. Many individuals with I/DD don't learn where those boundaries are.

It doesn't help that the people around them don't always model it either. Adults who force hugs on children who are visibly uncomfortable, who don't ask before touching, or who override a clear "no" because they think it's cute or harmless - those moments send a signal too. I'm not a hugger. There are people in my life I'm comfortable with, and I'll welcome it from them - but I don't seek it out, and I don't like being surprised by it. I have made that clear, and I have had people hug me anyway, as if my preference didn't register. If that happens to me - someone without a disability, who can articulate the boundary plainly - what message does it send to someone who is still learning where those boundaries are?

What follows is often impulsive behavior, not predatory behavior. A person who doesn’t understand that hugging a stranger is inappropriate is not a threat - they are unprepared. A person who does not understand the difference between private and public behavior is not dangerous - they are uninformed. But the criminal justice system does not make that distinction automatically. An arrest is an arrest. A sex offense charge is a sex offense charge. And the downstream consequences - registration requirements, housing restrictions, employment bars, permanent record - can follow a person for the rest of their life.

That outcome, for a behavior that education could have prevented, is the thing I cannot stop thinking about.

There is a second layer here that deserves naming. Individuals with I/DD are not only at elevated risk of becoming involved in the criminal justice system - they are also at dramatically elevated risk of being victimized. The research is consistent on this point across multiple studies. Education about consent and appropriate touch protects in both directions. The child who learns what appropriate touch looks like is the child who can recognize when something is wrong and tell someone.

The conversation nobody wants to have is the one that protects them.

A growing number of jurisdictions recognize that prosecution is not always the right response when the behavior stems from a lack of understanding or education, not ill intent. Diversion - an alternative to prosecution offered by courts - can route individuals toward education and treatment instead of incarceration or registration. It is not universally available and not guaranteed. But it exists, and it is being used.

For diversion to be a reasonable option, there needs to be somewhere to refer the accused to. A court can decline to prosecute, and it can mandate participation in a program. What it can’t do is create a program if none exists. For families navigating this in real time, the difference between a community with a qualified diversion resource and one without is enormous.

I don't typically call out specific organizations by name in Waypoints. I'm making an exception here because Melissa Hochberg and Arlene Lechner, co-founders of Ease - EaseEducates.org - are the only providers I'm aware of offering sexuality education specifically as a criminal justice diversion resource for individuals with I/DD. They are certified trainers in the Elevatus Training curriculum, a nationally recognized, evidence-informed, trauma-informed sexuality education program developed specifically for this population.

If you want to understand what Elevatus is and how it works, I interviewed their founder - that conversation is worth your time. You can find it here. Elevatus’ curriculum was designed to be co-taught by self-advocates, which means the people being educated see themselves reflected in their teachers. It is cognitively accessible, visually supported, and built on the premise that people with I/DD are sexual beings who deserve real, honest information.

EASE offers both preventative education - working with individuals and families before any legal contact occurs - and court-ordered diversion programming for individuals who have already had police contact and been offered an alternative to prosecution. They work with families, individuals, agencies, and courts nationwide, and sessions are available virtually.

I met with Melissa and Arlene in June. What struck me most was how matter-of-fact they are about a topic most people cannot bring themselves to raise at all. They are not alarmist - they’re practical. They have built something that works for this population because they understand this population - the way information needs to be presented, the pace, the framing, the respect required.

The families who find Ease before a crisis made a proactive choice. Those who find them afterward are grateful that the resource exists at all.

For advisors, attorneys, and social workers working with this population, this needs to be on your radar in the same way housing and benefits do. A criminal record connected to a sex-related offense affects housing eligibility, employment, and, in some cases, benefits access. Planning that does not account for this risk is missing something real.

If a client raises questions about their family member’s understanding of appropriate behavior, or - especially - if they disclose that a family member has had police contact, Ease is a resource worth knowing. They work with families, individuals, agencies, and courts. EaseEducates.org.

The gap we are talking about is not inevitable. It’s a product of decisions - to protect, to defer, to avoid a conversation that feels too hard. Those decisions come from love, but they don’t always produce safety.

The families I am aware of who found themselves in a crisis - who sat in the courtroom, who tried to explain to a judge what their child understood - they would all tell you the same thing. They wish someone had told them sooner. Not to scare them. Just to make sure they knew this was a real risk, and that there was something they could do about it.

Now you know. If this applies to your family, Ease is the place to start.

Visit EaseEducates.org