A 13-year-old boy in Utah spent his summer doing what too many adults only talk about: solving a problem. Zac Waters put roughly 300 hours into designing, 3D-printing, and assembling a custom mobility chair for a 21-month-old girl using MakeGood’s open-source Toddler Mobility Trainer. It’s a small story with a big lesson — when private citizens and volunteers step up, real needs get met faster than any government committee could draft a memo.
A kid with a 3D printer and a plan
Zac didn’t wait for permission or a grant. He found the MakeGood design, fired up his printer, and built a pediatric mobility trainer in the child’s favorite color. The chair includes a tray table, a removable cupholder, space for medical equipment, and adjustable footrest and headrest so it can grow with the toddler. Reported estimates show a printable TMT can be made for about $150 in filament and hardware — versus pediatric wheelchairs that often cost hundreds or thousands of dollars. As Zac put it, “It combines my two favorite things in life: 3D printing and helping people in need.” That’s the kind of plain common sense we should cheer.
Community effort outpaces red tape
MakeGood and its volunteer network have pushed this idea beyond one workshop. The nonprofit openly shares files so makers can print mobility aids, and volunteers around the country assemble and deliver them. MakeGood says it has delivered more than a thousand trainers but still faces hundreds of outstanding requests. This isn’t charity theater. It’s real people using open-source 3D printing and neighborhood effort to cut through the cost and delay of the commercial medical market — and that’s a model conservatives ought to celebrate, not caricature.
Safety matters — but don’t let that stop innovation
To be clear, the Toddler Mobility Trainer is not a certified medical device. MakeGood publishes waivers and vetting steps because safety and liability are real concerns. Pediatric therapists and caregivers should be involved when a device is first used, and makers must follow best practices. Still, the right answer isn’t to ground every volunteer project in paperwork. We can protect kids and encourage makers at the same time: basic vetting, a clinical check, and clear guidance. As MakeGood’s leader said, the project “brings makers and families together,” which is exactly what we want.
More kids like Zac, more solutions for families
Zac’s summer project should be an argument for more STEM in schools and more community-driven solutions. Instead of waiting for a distant bureaucracy to fix a problem, neighbors, parents, and young makers showed how affordable technology and volunteerism can move quickly and humanely. If we want fewer families stuck on long wait lists and fewer children priced out of childhood mobility, we should promote this kind of hands-on, commonsense innovation. In short: teach a kid to print, fund a maker space, and get out of the way.

