Today we’d like to introduce you to Rebecca Engle.
Hi Rebecca, so excited to have you with us today. What can you tell us about your story?
I’m Rebecca Engle, special education teacher, author, nonprofit board member, and founder of Stitches and Stanzas, a creative venture blending advocacy, storytelling, and neurodivergent empowerment.
My journey began with a challenge: I was non-verbal until and spent much of my early education on an IEP. That lived experience fueled a deep understanding of inclusive education and a passion for systems-level change. I earned my degree in Interdisciplinary Studies with a focus on literacy, history, and special education, and this summer I will be receiving my master’s in Educational Policy and Leadership with a specialization in special education policy and educational psychology.
Through my business and book, Step Into My Shoes, I help others share stories that too often go untold especially those from disabled and neurodivergent communities. My work blends education, creative writing, and advocacy into coaching offers and speaking engagements designed to empower people to lead with their lived experience.
What started in the classroom has grown into a mission: to create spaces on the page, in schools, and in business where neurodivergent voices are not just heard, but valued.
I’m sure it wasn’t obstacle-free, but would you say the journey has been fairly smooth so far?
It definitely hasn’t been a smooth road far from it. But I’ve learned that the bumps, the detours, and the outright roadblocks have taught me more than any perfect path ever could.
I was non-verbal during my early childhood years. I spent my early academic years on an IEP, and even when I began speaking, I struggled to process information and communicate in ways that made sense to the world around me. My brain worked differently, and instead of that being seen as an asset, it was often treated as a liability. I remember being praised for doing “better than expected,” but the bar for what people thought I could do was always painfully low. I didn’t need pity I needed people to believe in my potential.
That experience didn’t just impact my education. It shaped how I moved through the world. I became deeply aware of how often systems especially in education and business aren’t designed with neurodivergent or disabled people in mind. Everything from the pace of traditional classrooms to the language used in professional spaces seemed to signal that I didn’t belong. And yet, I stayed. I studied. I pushed forward.
College was both empowering and isolating. I wasn’t a party, outgoing typical 20 year old, and that was often used against me as if my challenges didn’t count because of it. I have faced ableism, discrimination, and professors who didn’t understand how to support disabled students, even those pursuing careers in education. There were moments when I considered giving up not because I wasn’t capable, but because I was exhausted from having to prove that I was.
But each of those challenges helped me develop something no degree program could teach: radical self-awareness and persistence. I began to understand how I was wired and stopped trying to work against it. Instead, I built around it. I found rhythm in my routines. I leaned into my love for storytelling and advocacy. And I started Stitches and Stanzas a space where my creativity, lived experience, and professional expertise could coexist.
Rerouting a business as a disabled entrepreneur while teaching full-time and pursuing a master’s in Educational Policy and Leadership isn’t easy. There’s a constant balancing act between regulation and burnout, between doing the work and proving its value in spaces that still operate from outdated assumptions. I’ve had to get comfortable with being underestimated and use it as fuel, not frustration. I’ve also had to build boundaries, learn how to rest, and find sustainable ways to grow without burning out.
Some of the hardest moments weren’t even about business they were about being in rooms where I was the only neurodivergent voice, or the only one who understood why certain policies or practices were harmful. I had to learn how to speak up not just for myself, but for the students, clients, and community members I represent.
So no, it hasn’t been smooth. But every struggle has sharpened my purpose. Every detour forced me to get more creative. And every moment of resistance pushed me to create something rooted in inclusion, accessibility, and authenticity. My business isn’t just about profit it’s about proof. Proof that disabled entrepreneurs have something powerful to offer, that our lived experience is expertise, and that our stories no matter how unconventional are worthy of being told.
As you know, we’re big fans of Stitches and Stanzas. For our readers who might not be as familiar what can you tell them about the brand?
My business, Stitches and Stanzas, is a reflection of who I am an educator, author, speaker, and creative who leads with both lived experience and professional expertise. It’s more than just a brand; it’s a mission-driven space that blends advocacy, education, and creativity to amplify marginalized voices especially disabled and neurodivergent ones.
I specialize in book coaching with a focus on memoir, advocacy-driven storytelling, and educational writing. My coaching isn’t cookie-cutter. I work closely with clients to unpack the story they’ve been carrying, often for years especially those who’ve been told their experiences are too much, too complicated, or not “marketable.” I help them shape their narratives with care, clarity, and confidence, whether they’re writing for publication, advocacy, or healing. Many of my clients are first-time authors or advocates writing from lived experience, and I walk with them from idea to draft and beyond.
In addition to coaching, I’m a full-time special education teacher who also writes and speaks professionally. My book, Step Into My Shoes, is rooted in my own journey and my students as neurodiverse students navigating a system that wasn’t designed for us. It’s part of what sets my work apart: I don’t just speak about disability and education from a theoretical lens I live it, teach it, and build community around it.
I also offer speaking engagements and workshops that center inclusion, accessibility, and rethinking traditional education and business structures through a disability-informed lens. I’ve spoken to educators, parents, nonprofits, and creatives about topics like neurodivergent learning, inclusive classroom design, and how to build spaces where disabled people can thrive not just survive.
And then there’s the cozy side of my brand: knitting and writing. I create sensory-friendly, hand-knit pieces and occasionally pair them with custom poems or affirmations what I call “comfort in both texture and text.” These pieces have become a surprising but beloved part of my brand, reminding people that artistry and advocacy aren’t mutually exclusive.
What sets Stitches and Stanzas apart is that everything I do is grounded in authenticity. This isn’t a performative brand. It’s personal. It’s lived. It’s layered. I’m proud that my work resonates with people who often feel left out of traditional publishing, education, or professional spaces and I make it my goal to help them feel seen, supported, and empowered.
If there’s one thing I want your readers to know, it’s this: You don’t have to choose between being professional and being personal. Between creativity and advocacy. Between structure and softness. There is room for all of it and I’ve built my business to reflect exactly that.
Risk taking is a topic that people have widely differing views on – we’d love to hear your thoughts.
I used to think I wasn’t a risk-taker. I was the kid with a color-coded planner, the one who liked predictability and found comfort in routines especially as someone who’s neurodivergent. But the truth is, every major move I’ve made in my business and life has involved risk just not always the kind people romanticize.
For me, risk hasn’t looked like jumping out of planes or quitting everything overnight. It’s looked like showing up fully as myself in rooms that weren’t built with people like me in mind. It’s looked like speaking about my disabilities publicly, when I spent years masking just to be taken seriously. It’s looked like pivoting multiple times when something no longer fit who I was becoming.
One of the biggest risks I’ve taken was reimagining my business. I started with Rebe Knits, creating sensory-friendly hand-knit pieces as a calming creative outlet. That evolved into Rebe Crafts, where I tried to be everything knitter, crafter, teacher, advocate but it felt scattered. I was growing, and the brand wasn’t growing with me. That’s when I took the leap to create Stitches and Stanzas a name that finally made space for all of me: the poet, the educator, the advocate, and the maker.
It felt like a risk to rebrand to let go of the comfort of what I’d already built and step into something that wasn’t fully defined yet. But I realized the bigger risk was staying small just because it was familiar.
I think we often mistake risk for recklessness. But risk, when aligned with your values and vision, is just a necessary step toward alignment. For disabled creators and entrepreneurs like me, risk doesn’t always look bold on the outside. Sometimes it looks quiet and intentional like raising your rates, saying no, or changing your name because the one you’ve outgrown no longer reflects your power.
So yes, I take risks. But I do it with purpose. And I’ve learned that the most meaningful ones are the ones that honor where I’ve been while making space for who I’m becoming.
Contact Info:
- Instagram: StitchesStanzas
- Facebook: Becca Engle
- LinkedIn: Rebecca A Engle
