November 18, 2022
The Comment Said “It’s always about the special needs kids…”
The comment said…It’s always about the special needs kids. You parents are always whining for them to get everything.”
That comment was from a while back and it was in response to a post about how children with special needs/disabilities were forgotten during covid. A bold statement yes, but also true.
It was made be a lady. One the same age as me. One with kids. She felt that everything is just handed to kids in special education.
The statement has been in my head for a week now. Running through on a ticker as I find myself once again suiting up my armor to give my nonverbal boy a voice.
I have been doing this special needs parenting thing for 11 years and I cannot tell you one thing that has come easy in regards to special education. Not one.
There is a constant tension. A push-pull. Beauty. Worry. Hope. Fear. All tethered together.
Let me tell you our truth. And maybe it’s just ours. I don’t know.
But parents like me, we’re not fighting for the Cadillac or to have the red carpet rolled out. We are fighting for basic rights for our kids. The ones that most parents take for granted. And I say that with certainty, because I know. I have three other children who do not need special education services.
Parents like me…we’re fighting for our children to go to school. An actual building that will welcome them in. To let them stay a full day.
We’re fighting for them to have a bus to ride. An aide to ride with them. A person to be with them throughout the day to keep them safe and help them go to the bathroom.
We’re fighting for them to eat in the cafeteria. To not be hidden away. For their general education peers to know their name. To see their face.
We’re fighting for them to be able to walk in the halls. To ring a bell at the holiday concert.
We are fighting for our kids to be in school. It’s as simple and as complicated as that. Because in our world, it’s not a given.
It’s fighting funding and rules and laws.
Ten people. That’s how many people were present at my son’s last IEP meeting.
Think about that.
It took 10 people to discuss one little boy’s education. Ten people decide if he gets to ride the bus and go into the school and eat lunch in the cafeteria.
By the end of the conversation, there was no color left in my sunshine boy. It was gone. All that was left was data and a building that doesn’t want him.
And the funny part is…the irony really…is he is just a boy. And I am just a mom. And I just want him to go to school.
It isn’t the red carpet. And it isn’t the Cadillac version.
It’s just to be able to be in the building. We just want what everyone else takes for granted.
