special needs

Some days, I think I have the most wonderful job in the world. I work with developmentally disabled adults (among other things), and I teach them to read. When people first hear that, they often shake their heads. They wonder why in the world anyone would want to take on a fruitless task like that. They wonder what I hope to accomplish. They wonder who in the world pays for the service and why it should be supported. Here's the story.

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Everyday at the same time I pass a man and his daughter walking on the street. The man is always walking at least 20 feet to half a block in front of his teenage daughter, who has Down’s syndrome.

The first time I saw them I didn’t think about it, because occasionally we get ahead of the person we’re with by some random act of shoe-tying or such. But after several weeks of passing these two, I suddenly realized today that the man NEVER walks with the girl.

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Want to hear a cool story?

About 3 or 4 years ago one summer, I was picking my daughter (8 yrs) and son (4) up from their daycamp and the counsellor there pulled me aside urgently just as I arrived at my daughter's group.

Slightly alarmed, I listened as this pierced, painted, punk teenager teared up while telling me something that had happened that day involving my daughter.

There was a special needs girl in my daughter's group - she had Down's syndrome and it looked like more than a mild case - she also had a shadow with her.

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I remember when I was pregnant the first time. People were always asking “are you hoping for a boy or a girl?�

I would truthfully tell them it really didn’t matter to me or my husband. We were just wanting a baby.

Inevitably, the next comment would be “Oh, just so it’s healthy and normal.�

I always thought that was the strangest comment because even if my child was born with problems, I would still love him or her. I wouldn’t reject them based upon problems or disabilities they could not control.

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