First Steps Into the Show Ring: When Our Therapy Horses Went Back to the Show Horses

The whole crew excited to horse show!

The alarm went off at 3 AM on a foggy morning that would become one of the most meaningful days in Speaking of Horses' history. As I stumbled to the barn in the pre-dawn darkness, my heart was racing with anticipation. Today wasn't just any day at the farm—it was our very first horse show.

For months, I had wrestled with whether our students were ready for this step. All of my riders have speech and communication disorders, and many were still new to riding. None had ever participated in a horse show before, and for some, this would be their first opportunity to participate in any sporting event. Too often, coaches find inclusion of children with varying abilities challenging, leaving our kids on the sidelines.

The concerns weighing on my mind were very real. Some of our children struggle in novel environments. Others are still working on communicating their wants and needs. How could I manage five children with such differing abilities while ensuring they all felt successful and celebrated?

As I bathed each horse in the early morning mist, carefully braiding roses into their manes, I made a decision: this wasn't going to be about winning ribbons. This was going to be about celebrating how far each child had come.

The "Always Fun Only" class!

Transformation in the Morning Light

When we arrived at the show grounds, something magical happened. Our therapy horses, adorned with their rose decorations and gleaming from their early morning baths, seemed to sense the importance of the day. The children's eyes lit up seeing their familiar equine partners transformed into proper show horses—still the same gentle souls they knew and loved, but dressed for celebration.

The show started early, and my students were scheduled first in the "Always Fun Only" division—a class designed for children who need leaders and side walkers. These were my minimally verbal students, and I had spent nights worrying they might be overwhelmed by the atmosphere.

I couldn't have been more wrong.

They hopped onto their decorated horses with the same confidence they showed at our farm, ready to take on this new adventure. As they walked around the ring with their support teams, their faces beamed with pure joy. Each step represented not just progress in riding, but triumph over countless communication and confidence barriers they had conquered to reach this moment.

When the judge approached to present ribbons, something extraordinary happened. One of my students—who had taken eight months to mount a horse in the comfort of our farm—was not only riding confidently but doing so in front of a crowd of strangers. Another child, who had started with us a year prior using only single words and limited functional communication, began commenting on everything around him and even managed a few words to the judge.

As they each received their ribbons, I realized I had been naive to think I wouldn't be using my speech therapy lens at this show. What I was witnessing was functional communication in the real world—my students using everything they had learned to navigate and enjoy an entirely new environment.

The lead line class!

Courage in the Ring

Next came our 6-year-old lead line rider—a child I would guide around the ring myself. This class would test more than riding skills; it would challenge her executive functioning abilities. Could she use her working memory to remember her position? Could she exercise emotional control when facing disappointment against more experienced riders?

After receiving two last-place ribbons, I watched her shoulders slump slightly. But then came the hardest class in her division—and something shifted. Her focus sharpened, her posture improved, and she rode with determination I had never seen before. When the judge called her name for first place, her beam of accomplishment was brighter than any arena light.

In that moment, I understood that this experience was teaching lessons no therapy session could replicate: resilience, perseverance, and the sweet victory that can come after disappointment.

Independence and Achievement

Our final two riders—both working on articulation goals in our program—were competing independently. No side walkers, no leaders, just them and their therapy horses navigating this new challenge together. Nerves were high, but excitement was higher.

Watching them guide their horses around the ring, following judge's instructions, and managing their own rides, I felt overwhelming pride. These children, who had struggled to produce clear speech sounds just months earlier, were now confidently communicating in a high-stakes environment with complete strangers.

Both earned beautiful ribbons, but more importantly, they discovered they could handle far more than they—or anyone else—had imagined.

The Magic Between the Classes

While the formal competition was remarkable, the most powerful moments happened between classes. I watched my students interacting with each other, regardless of ability or disability. The communication skills they had developed at our farm were now opening doors to new friendships and connections.

A child who had been nonverbal a year ago was showing another rider how to hold the reins. A student with significant social challenges was cheering enthusiastically for a peer's success. The barriers that had once separated these children were dissolving through shared experience and genuine connection.

This wasn't planned therapy—it was organic, authentic communication happening because these children finally had the tools and confidence to engage with their world.

The Real Victory

As we loaded tired but exhilarated children into their families cars and patient, rose-decorated horses back into the trailer, I reflected on what we had truly accomplished that day. Yes, everyone earned ribbons, but the real victories were measured in moments:

• A child who had never spoken to strangers finding his voice with the judge

• A young rider discovering she could bounce back from disappointment stronger than before

• Children with communication disorders naturally forming connections with peers

• Students using every skill they had learned to navigate a completely new environment successfully

What struck me most powerfully was watching how communication is vital in all environments. This is exactly why we use the connection between children and horses to foster every child's voice—not just for the quiet moments in our therapy arena, but for all the big, bright, sometimes scary moments life will bring.

Our horses had taught these children more than how to sit in a saddle or hold reins correctly. They had given them the regulation, confidence, and connection skills needed to step boldly into new experiences and communicate their way through whatever comes next.

Looking Forward

As I turned off the barn aisle lights that night, I knew this horse show was just the beginning. We had proven that children with communication challenges don't need separate or lesser opportunities—they need support, understanding, and belief in their capabilities.

Every ribbon earned that day was a testament to what becomes possible when we meet children where they are, honor their unique ways of communicating, and provide them with experiences that build both skills and confidence. Most importantly, it demonstrated that inclusion isn't just good for the children who benefit from it—it enriches the entire community.

At Speaking of Horses, we don't just teach children to communicate. We give them experiences that prove their voices matter, their contributions have value, and they belong in every arena life offers.

And sometimes, those arenas happen to have actual ribbons waiting at the end.

Making More Moments Like These Possible

Experiences like our first horse show require resources beyond our regular therapy programming. Transportation, entry fees, safety equipment, and preparation time all represent additional costs that insurance doesn't cover.

Your support helps us provide these transformative opportunities that extend our children's growth beyond the therapy arena into the wider world. Every donation helps ensure that more children can experience the pride, accomplishment, and pure joy we witnessed that foggy morning at the horse show.

To support more inclusive opportunities for children with communication challenges, please consider donating to Speaking of Horses. Together, we can help more children discover that their voices—and their accomplishments—belong in every arena. https://www.speakingofhorsesincorporated.org/donate

Ada Haensel is a certified speech-language pathologist and the founder of Speaking of Horses, a nonprofit providing equine-assisted speech therapy in Barboursville, Virginia. Learn more about our programs at www.speakingofhorsesincorporated.org or schedule a visit to meet our therapy horses in person.