Empowerment > Embarrassment
“What if all this time, all this struggle has been leading to a beautiful chapter in your life? What if everything does work out, even if it doesn’t seem like it right now? What if who I’ve become is who I’ve needed all along? What if all this hard work leads to amazing things? What if you replaced negativity with optimism? Would your thoughts and behavior change too?
I believe so.”
I find myself writing today with a fire in my bones that feels wildly important to get out and share with the world. My heart is beating fast, and my fingers can't keep up with my thoughts. We are having big teachable moments in our house, and I am just sitting here wondering if I'm doing right by my kids. I'm wondering if I'm navigating this new normal correctly, and I'm trying my best to teach Elliott, right now, how to build confidence and a strong voice, even when it feels challenging.
Here is the story.
We are three weeks into first grade, and over the summer months, we are not as strict about Elliott wearing his brace. There are a variety of reasons for this, but it gives him a break, it's hot, and it can't get wet. The downside to this is that his muscle tone increases, and we find ourselves needing brace adjustments in the fall.
I couldn't get him in for those adjustments before school started, so the first week back, he didn't wear his brace at all. Once we got the brace where it needed to be, he started wearing it to school in week two.
Without much thought, I sent him on his way without preparing him for the different scenarios that could arise in the new classroom.
One of the school's most prominent mission statements is "No Place For Hate," and it leads with that in mind. No one in his classroom was mean or bullying, but, understandably, very curious, asking Elliott a lot of questions about what was on his leg and why.
Within a day and a half of him wearing the brace, I started noticing he didn't want to put it on and was acting out more at home. It took some prompting on my part, but after some tears from him, I ultimately learned that he felt embarrassed and different from his peers.
Having a child with 'special needs' has really opened my eyes up to what that fully looks like. I believe, even in a very inclusive community, there is still a stigma that exists, and with each passing day, I am learning myself how to break that stigma for any kid who is labeled 'different.' This conversation between Elliott and me was a great moment of learning, and it cracked my heart wide open to all the thoughts and feelings my little boy was going through just because he was wearing a brace.
“I may not always know the whys, hows, and what ifs, but what I do know is that opportunities, both good and bad, present opportunities for growth.”
All that to say, I knew these conversations would happen. I have known that there will be a point where Elliott starts to ask us the harder questions of why him. I have known there will be moments in his life when he feels 'other,' and we will need to navigate them. But it doesn't make these conversations, or these moments, any easier.
I cried and cried and cried many times after we talked, hoping I'd said and done the right things, and hoping he felt supported and okay afterwards. Ultimately, when I got my big emotions out, I knew I needed to do something.
With the passions burning from inside me, I continue to shout from the rooftops that his Cerebral Palsy, and the symptoms from it, will not be what defines him. I was going to make sure Elliott had the voice, power, and confidence to control the narrative of his brace.
I emailed his teacher, speech therapist, occupational therapist, and social worker and told them what was going on. I told them that Elliott wasn't feeling like his confident self, was getting tired of the questions, and that there was a level of sadness that I had not yet experienced with him regarding his CP. I let them know he was struggling more than he was willing to admit. I wanted his team to be aware so he could receive cohesive support and messaging both at school and at home.
I wrote to them with my heart on the line and a lump in my throat. Once again, I was blown away by their response and support. Collectively, we decided to have his teacher read a book to the class called Just Ask by Sonia Sotomayor. His speech therapist worked with him on words that he could say to describe why he wears his brace, how it helps him, and how he is just like everybody else, and it doesn't slow him down.
This book is about feeling different. It highlights that, especially as a kid, it can be tough. But in the same way that different types of plants and flowers make a garden more beautiful and enjoyable, different types of people make our world more vibrant and wonderful. The idea is that everyone has something unique, and that one is no better or worse than another.
Once the teacher read the book, she asked if anybody wanted to share their differences with the class. Elliott bravely stood before 26 kids with his speech therapist and fielded dozens of questions.
We gave our son the tools to feel empowered over his circumstances rather than embarrassed. We gave him an opportunity to take charge of something that doesn't inhibit him and to lead in a way that now encourages others to share their differences with the class, too.
Elliott walked into school this morning confident, and that fills my heart with so much pride it makes me burst into tears all over again.
For this time, we did right by our son, and I continue to be just so damn proud of him.
