A Personal Reflection on Being an Approved Provider

From a Dream to Reality: What I Built Against the Odds

I dreamt this. I built this from nothing.

There was no blueprint, no roadmap, no “how-to” guide for creating a childcare service that truly includes all children—especially those who don’t fit within the mainstream mold.

When I first started, I had a vision—one that was bold, ambitious, and, frankly, disruptive to an industry that wasn’t designed for the children and families I serve today.

I have had to bend, mold, and pivot in every possible way to overcome policy changes, relentless challenges, and unexpected crises. Every time the system pushed back; I adapted. Every time a door closed; I built another one.

But at what cost?

The weight of being an Approved Provider is indescribable.

There is no safety net, no "off" switch, no guarantee of security. Yet, we are expected to navigate endless red tape, ever-changing policies, staffing pressures, financial uncertainty, and the overwhelming responsibility of being accountable for every single person in our service—children, families, and staff alike.

And we don’t talk about it enough.

Where Are the Approved Providers?

I’ve sat in countless Department of Education workshops, looking around the room and wondering:

Where are the other Approved Providers?

Centre Directors, Regional Managers, Coordinators—they show up. But the actual owners, the people ultimately responsible? Almost never.

This has always baffled me.

We are the ones carrying the ultimate legal, financial, and ethical responsibility. We are the ones who will be held accountable for non-compliance, even when we aren’t on site. We are the ones who must ensure our services survive through funding cuts, policy shifts, and workforce shortages.

Yet so many remain disconnected from the realities of what is happening on the ground, in their own services.

I refuse to be that kind of Approved Provider.

Because I know what it feels like to be in the trenches, leading not from an office or a spreadsheet, but from the floor, beside my team, with the families who depend on us.

The Fight for True Inclusion: A System That Was Never Built for Us

For over a decade, I have fought to create a service that actually includes children with disabilities—not just in theory, but in real, practical, everyday ways.

But let me tell you—the system was never built for us.

The families we support have nowhere else to go. Their children require 24/7 care, yet there are virtually no childcare and OSHC options for them. The system talks about inclusion, but in reality, we are excluded from every level of funding and support.

I have spent years knocking on doors—Department of Education officials, MPs, Ministers—seeking support for these children, these families, and my staff. And every time, it’s been another roadblock, another policy loophole, another rejection letter.

Meanwhile, we are on the frontlines, making reasonable adjustments for every child, bending over backwards to ensure true inclusion.

But who is making adjustments for us?

Where is the support for the teams caring for children with:

🚨 PEG feeding, suction support, and oxygen administration?
🚨 Wheelchairs, hoisting, and two-person transfers?
🚨 Seizure disorders and high-risk medical needs?
🚨 Complex behaviours that require highly skilled staff?

The government funnels funding into "token inclusion services", while expecting us to run these complex programs on the same funding model as mainstream childcare.

It’s unrealistic. It’s unsustainable. And it’s unacceptable.

The Funding Crisis No One Wants to Talk About

Here’s the ugly truth:

We are excluded from Inclusion Support, because the children we support have ongoing high support needs. Families cannot use NDIS funding, because OSHC is considered an educational expense—even though mainstream OSHC services won’t take them. Families who access our service receive the same CCS subsidy as a mainstream service, despite the higher fees due to the service needing more staff, more training, more resources, and higher ratios.

Tell me—how is that fair?

Two massive government departments—Education and NDIS—refuse to work together, leaving families in limbo, forcing them to fight for the bare minimum.

And we, as Approved Providers, are expected to just figure it out.

Who Supports the Approved Providers?

Let’s talk about the unseen burden of leadership.

We spend so much time ensuring that:
✅ Families feel heard and supported.
✅ Staff feel valued, well-paid, and mentally well.
✅ The Department sees us as compliant and professional.
✅ The business stays afloat, despite rising costs and zero additional funding.

But who is checking in on us?

Who is making sure we get paid enough?
Who is ensuring our mental health is okay?
Who is looking out for our work-life balance?

I have had ugly-cry moments on the end of the phone to the Department of Education where I questioned whether I could keep going. There was an eerie silence! No comment. No solution.

The pressure, the expectations, the constant uphill battle.

And yet, I keep showing up.

Why?

Because if not me—then who?

Who will fight for these families? Who will build a truly inclusive service that actually works for the children who need it most?

This is not a profit-driven mission. This is real life. Real children. Real families.

And they deserve better.

True Inclusion Is More Than a Buzzword

"Diversity is having a seat at the table. Inclusion is having a voice. Belonging is having that voice be heard." – Liz Fosslien

True inclusion is not just about children. It is about families, staff, and the services that support them.

At Ruby & Ollie’s, we have spent over a decade building something that shouldn’t have had to be this hard. But we did it. We created a space where children who have been turned away everywhere else are embraced.

We built a service that doesn’t just talk about inclusion—it lives and breathes it.

And now, we are taking this fight further.

Watch This Space. Change Is Coming.

I know I’m not the only Approved Provider feeling this way.

I see you.
I hear you.
I am you.

And I want you to know—we don’t have to fight this battle alone.

At The Inclusion Network, we are stepping up to change the way inclusion works in our sector.

Because enough is enough.

Stay connected. Something big is coming. 💜

Rebecca.