Julian Kanter, 22, wants many of the same things as other young adults; to spend time with friends, travel independently, pursue his interests and be part of the community around him. A student in AccessSFUSD The Arc, a transition program for adults with cognitive disabilities ages 18 to 22, he has spent the last four years learning how to navigate San Francisco, participate in workplace internships and prepare for life beyond the public school system.
Graduation brings a question familiar to many families of adults with disabilities: what comes next? While school has provided structure, opportunities and support, adulthood often requires navigating a complex network of services, programs and community resources that can vary widely in availability and accessibility.
The United States is approaching its 250th anniversary, and much of the national conversation centers on freedom, opportunity and independence. For Americans with cognitive disabilities, those ideals can carry a different meaning. Independence is often measured not by grand achievements, but by everyday moments: crossing a street safely, holding a job, managing money, maintaining friendships or navigating a city alone.
For much of American history, people with intellectual and developmental disabilities were excluded from schools, workplaces and public life. While decades of advocacy and disability rights legislation have expanded opportunities for inclusion, many barriers remain. Julian's life reflects both that progress and the challenges that persist.
When Julian cannot find the words his mother, Lucia Kanter St. Amour, helped transcribe his thoughts, Julian said he wants what many Americans want: the ability to move through the world on his own terms.
"I want people to see me for who I am," Julian said. "I want to go places on my own, be with my friends and be part of my community."
Julian Kanter, 22, of San Francisco, rides Muni Route 24 to AccessSFUSD The Arc on his second-to-last day of school in San Francisco, California, on Monday, June 1, 2026. Over the past four years, Julian has learned to navigate the city's public transportation system independently as part of the transition program for adults with cognitive disabilities.
Julian Kanter, 22, of San Francisco, organizes a bin of legos in the library at Dolores Huerta Elementary School during an internship through AccessSFUSD The Arc on Monday, June 1, 2026. The community-based placement is designed to help students with cognitive disabilities gain workplace experience before aging out of the public school system at age 22. For Julian, the internship is one of many spaces where he is seen not as a diagnosis, but as a coworker, volunteer and member of the community. "He's always being himself," said Drake Lenard, 21, of San Francisco, a longtime friend who has known Julian since childhood. "People shouldn't have to worry about that, because that's a part of them."
Peter Kanter, left, watches the New York Yankees play the Cleveland Guardians with his son, Julian Kanter, 22, in their San Francisco home on Tuesday, June 2, 2026. The evening before Julian's graduation from AccessSFUSD The Arc, father and son spent time together discussing the game and reflecting on the milestone ahead. As Julian prepared to leave the school system after four years in the transition program, Peter encouraged him to embrace the changes that come with adulthood. "Graduation should be exciting," Peter told his son. "It's a time for change."
Julian Kanter, 22, left, sits with his best friend, Anthony Li, 21, outside A.P. Giannini Middle School in San Francisco, California, on Monday, June 1, 2026. Each Monday, Julian returns to the campus to visit a paraprofessional who played an important role during his years in school. Anthony, who interns at the school, often spends time talking with Julian before heading into work. For many students with cognitive disabilities, the transition into adulthood means leaving behind not only familiar routines, but also the teachers, aides and mentors who have become part of their daily lives. "I go and see Mr. Stevens, and sometimes I don't like it," Anthony said with a laugh. "Sometimes I tell him to go." Despite the teasing, Anthony said he is looking forward to seeing what comes next for his longtime friend. "I feel excited for him to move on to another journey."
Julian Kanter, 22, walks across 24th Street in the Noe Valley neighborhood of San Francisco, California, on Tuesday, June 2, 2026. Throughout San Francisco, accessible pedestrian signals, clearly marked crosswalks and consistent wayfinding systems help residents navigate the city independently. For individuals with cognitive disabilities, those features can provide important cues that make daily travel more manageable. Decades ago, many Americans with intellectual and developmental disabilities were excluded from schools, workplaces and community life altogether. While disability rights legislation has expanded opportunities for inclusion, advocates say people with cognitive disabilities are still too often expected to adapt to systems that were not designed with them in mind. "They have so much to offer to society in general," said educator Lia McLoughlin, who works with transition-age adults with cognitive disabilities. "They're often overlooked and underrepresented."
Julian Kanter, 22, speaks with Mike Almhuhadi, owner of Diamond Cafe, in the Noe Valley neighborhood of San Francisco, California, on Tuesday, June 2, 2026. Located just blocks from his home, the coffee shop has become one of the many places where Julian is known not as a student in a transition program, but as a regular customer, neighbor and friend. During visits, Julian often jokes with Almhuhadi about taking weekly trips to Disneyland, a running conversation between the two that has become part of their routine. For adults with cognitive disabilities, these everyday relationships can play an important role in fostering a sense of belonging within the broader community. "We love him," Almhuhadi said. "Everything. He's smart. Oh, you kidding me? He's intelligent."’
Julian Kanter, 22, meets with Radka Pulliam, his teacher and case manager at AccessSFUSD The Arc, following an incident from the previous weekend, in San Francisco, California, on Monday, June 1, 2026. In addition to preparing students for employment and independent living, transition programs help adults with cognitive disabilities navigate social situations, boundaries and interpersonal relationships. Staff members say these conversations are an important part of building the skills necessary to participate independently in community life. "When students come here, when they are 18 years old, they all are still in their school mentality," Pulliam said. "This is much more real-life oriented."
Julian Kanter, 22, rides an escalator at the Castro Muni Station in San Francisco, California, on Tuesday, June 2, 2026. While Julian navigates the city's public transportation system independently, anxiety remains a daily part of his life. Family members and educators say moments of uncertainty, changes in routine or unfamiliar social situations can sometimes cause him to become overwhelmed, even in environments he knows well. For many adults with cognitive disabilities, anxiety may not always appear as nervousness or fear, but instead through repetitive behaviors, difficulty communicating emotions or a heightened need for predictability. "You don't always know what's going to trigger it," said Radka Pulliam, Julian's teacher and case manager. "But when it happens, it's real for them."
From right, Julian Kanter, 22, and Luis Medina, a paraprofessional educator, ride Muni following Julian's job placement on Monday, June 1, 2026, in San Francisco, California. While public transportation is a key component of the independence Julian has developed through AccessSFUSD The Arc, it can also expose him to misunderstandings from strangers unfamiliar with cognitive disabilities. Moments before the photograph was made, another passenger became upset after Julian accidentally brushed him with his backpack while taking a seat. As the situation escalated, Luis stepped in to advocate for his student. "I am his teacher," Luis told the passenger. The man responded, "You ain't no f---ing teacher. You're his f---ing caretaker." Reflecting on the exchange later, Luis said encounters like that are uncommon but can still be painful. "You know, it doesn't happen too often, but it's hard," he said. "It's hard to hear.”
From left, Drake Lenard, 21, Luis Medina, a paraprofessional educator, and Julian Kanter, 22, enjoy ice cream at Mitchell's Ice Cream in San Francisco, California, on Monday, June 1, 2026. After completing their final day together at Julian's job placement, the group stopped to celebrate with one of his favorite treats, grasshopper ice cream. Outings like these serve as both a reward and a learning opportunity, allowing students to practice budgeting, handling money and making independent purchasing decisions in the community. As Julian prepares to graduate from AccessSFUSD The Arc, those everyday choices are becoming an increasingly important part of adulthood. "You have to learn how to be responsible with the money that you have," said his father, Peter Kanter.
Julian Kanter, 22, celebrates with classmates after graduating from AccessSFUSD The Arc at the Golden Gate Bandshell in San Francisco, California, on Wednesday, June 3, 2026. During the ceremony, AccessSFUSD Executive Director Kara Schinella told graduates they had "turned obstacles into opportunities, barriers into bridges and doubt into determination," recognizing the resilience and self-advocacy many students developed throughout their time in the program. As Julian enters adulthood, he joins a generation of Americans defining independence on their own terms. While graduation marked the end of a program designed to help students transition into adulthood, it also marked the beginning of an uncertain next chapter shared by many adults with cognitive disabilities and their families. Schinella reminded graduates that accessibility "is not a favor, it's a right" and that their voices, perspectives and experiences are needed in the communities they will continue to shape long after graduation.
Julian Kanter, 22, jumps down the stairs in excitement after finishing his day at AccessSFUSD The Arc and boarding San Francisco's J Church Muni line on Monday, June 1, 2026. For Julian, public transportation is far more than a way to get from place to place. He spends hours studying routes, memorizing schedules, tracking vehicles and talking with friends, family members and educators about trains, buses and transit systems. His fascination with transportation has become a constant throughout his life, providing structure, comfort and a way to connect with the world around him. What began as a skill necessary for independence has grown into a passion that shapes many of his daily routines and conversations. As graduation approaches and the future becomes increasingly uncertain, the transit network remains one of the places where Julian feels most confident navigating on his own. "One of the greatest skills he has is his ability to get himself around," said his father, Peter Kanter.
Julian Kanter, 22, waits at a bus stop in the Noe Valley San Francisco, California, on Monday, June 1, 2026. Around him, the city continues at its usual pace as buses arrive, passengers come and go, and daily life moves forward. For Julian, the ability to navigate San Francisco independently represents years of learning, growth and determination. Through his mother, Lucia Kanter St. Amour, who helped communicate his thoughts due to his cognitive disability, Julian said he wants many of the same things as other adults: to travel independently, spend time with friends, participate in his community and feel safe while doing so. Yet he says those goals are sometimes complicated by other people's assumptions about disability. "I want people to see me for who I am," Julian said through his mother. "I want to go places on my own, be with my friends and be part of my community."
