The Three Principles Guiding How We Build InclusiCare
An inside look at the design principles shaping InclusiCare — and why we're saying no to features that would make the product worse for the families we're building it for.
By William Kreitzer
A few months ago, when InclusiCare was still in very early development, I was trying to build everything I thought a caregiver would want to keep track of: behavior event logging, daily mood tracking, IEP analysis and storage, de-escalation plans, calendars and routine management — the list goes on. But when I watched people interact with that early version, I could see their frustration. They were already tired and overwhelmed, and all those buttons and windows were powerful but too much to take in.
My mentors had been telling me I needed to keep it frictionless, and after watching those interactions I understood what they meant. A burned-out caregiver doesn’t have the time or energy to manage yet another system. But most of us do have a couple of minutes a day we can spare to build one that works. That’s how CARLA was born. Used as a documentation tool instead of an echo chamber, AI can quietly build a living profile of our loved one in the background. Sure, it might take weeks or months to start surfacing real insights — but if it only costs a few minutes here and there, we can make that work.
If you try to build every feature a caregiver has ever wished for, you end up with software that requires a caregiver to have time they don’t have. You end up with another app that adds to the cognitive load instead of reducing it. The irony would be brutal: a product meant to ease caregiver burnout becoming one more thing that burns caregivers out.
So we wrote down three principles. They now sit at the top of every design review, every roadmap conversation, and every “should we build this?” debate. I want to share them here because they’re the clearest way to explain what InclusiCare is — and what it isn’t.
Principle 1: Capture once, share forever
The single most valuable thing a caregiving family has is the accumulated knowledge about their child. The single most wasted thing is the time spent re-sharing that knowledge every time someone new enters the picture.
Everything we build has to earn its place against that principle. If a feature asks a parent to re-enter information they’ve already shared, it fails. If a feature requires a therapist to learn a new vocabulary before they can understand the child, it fails. The knowledge a family already holds should flow outward to every caregiver who needs it, with as little friction as the real world allows.
This is why we’re not building yet another form-heavy intake system. We’re building something closer to a living profile — one that grows with a child and travels with them, no matter how many transitions they go through.
Principle 2: Respect the five-minute window
When I talk to parents of kids with disabilities about technology, one thing comes up constantly: “I don’t have time for another app.” Most caregivers aren’t using our product on a lunch break at a desk. They’re using it at 10pm after a long meltdown, in a pediatrician’s waiting room, or standing in a school parking lot trying to brief a substitute paraprofessional before the bell rings.
So we design for five-minute windows. Every core interaction — adding a note, sharing a profile, updating a caregiver — has to be doable in five minutes or less, on a phone, with one hand, while also doing something else.
This is a harder constraint than it sounds. It means we cut features that would be technically impressive but operationally useless. A gorgeous analytics dashboard is worthless if no one has the time to open it.
Principle 3: The caregiver owns the data, full stop
This one isn’t a design choice — it’s a line in the sand. The information in InclusiCare belongs to the family that entered it. Not to the school district, not to the therapy clinic, not to us. Caregivers decide who sees what, for how long, and can revoke access the moment someone stops being part of the care team.
We’re building the technical and legal foundations for that now, before we scale, because retrofitting data ownership into a product is nearly impossible. Our community deserves a tool that treats their child’s story like what it is: theirs.
Where we are now
The dashboards are still there for parents who want to see the data — that keeps us honest and lets you know exactly where CARLA is storing your information. But all you have to do is talk to it. Have a doctor’s appointment to remember while you’re at the office? Tell CARLA, by voice, to add it to your calendar — done. Did your child have a meltdown earlier, and you realized it was just sensory overload or a new food? Drop it in the chat and CARLA will categorize it so you can avoid the trigger next time.
I’m going to be honest with you, though: it’s not an overnight fix — it’s a commitment. It can take a few weeks of light, conversational logging (or a few hours of focused note-taking) to build a clear profile. Uploading an existing IEP or 504 plan can jump-start the process by loading known behaviors and challenges.
Where we go from here
These three principles are shaping the earliest version of InclusiCare, and they’re also how we’re deciding who joins our advisory board. We’re prioritizing voices from special education, healthcare, machine learning, and disability advocacy — people who will push back when we drift away from what families actually need and make sure we handle data responsibly.
If you’re a caregiver, therapist, or educator who wants to see early prototypes and help us stress-test these ideas, we’re opening up a small early-access cohort in the coming weeks. Email me directly and I’ll make sure you’re on the list.
The binder isn’t going away overnight. But we’re building the thing that, eventually, makes it unnecessary.
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