When it comes to disgusting comments and disgraceful humans, I try to avoid sharing the things that give them air, life, and room to breathe. The notoriety. The truly hurtful stories and events, I want to hide those from my fellow parents of children with disabilities because we do not need that in our life.

Sometimes though, I just cannot.  

Across the country there has been so much chatter about the re-opening of schools. As parents, we are all anxious, stressed, and concerned for our children.  This is no reason to start tearing one another down. To devalue any child or their education to make room for others. 

Now this, a MOTHER truly devaluing other children’s lives. Upset that the children in special education classes in her district are returning for five days a week vs. her child only returning for two days a week, she posts this on social media: “The kids that are going further in life aren’t the special ed kids sorry to say but it’s the truth. Also when I say special I mean head banging, screaming, throwing fits special! My child is going a lot further in life than those children and should be the one going five days a week not two. If you don’t like that truth I don’t know what to tell you!”

In another district, a KINDERGARTEN TEACHER posted on Facebook: “I’m so tired of hearing about special needs kids.  They’ll be fine. They were (SLUR) before COVID and they’ll still be (SLUR) after.” The rant and slurs continued. He, deservedly so, is facing dismissal. 

I am broken-hearted that there are these kinds of disgraceful humans out there. It is truly absurd. Raising and educating children at that.

Another mom of a child with autism suggested that these people could benefit from spending a day with our children, that maybe that experience would show them how and why this world is more beautiful with children like ours in it.

I say they don’t deserve to. I also know they couldn’t do it.

They couldn’t manage the screaming, the medications, the atypical communication, the anxiety, self- injury, and elopement.

No, they couldn’t do that. 

And certainly, they would miss all the wonder of seeing this world differently.  The pure and simple happiness found by dancing with your shadow or chasing butterflies.

They would not notice the grit, determination, and resilience a boy like mine brings to the table every single day to work through communication differences, sensory processing difficulties, and self-regulation obstacles.

Would they join him as he cautiously studies, touches, smells, and examines the world around him? Could they share in this six-year-old’s love of pirates, eggs, paper, and The Beatles?

Do you think they would get to feel that happiness found by joining his world just for a few rare moments? Like when he is busy scripting and reciting and realizes you have learned the script, too?  The way he looks at you, as if saying, “Welcome, it’s so fun here!”

No, I don’t think these people can hear the unsaid like that.

Something also tells me they cannot give more when there is nothing left. Conjure up patience when it has been depleted. No, that is something they would learn from a child like mine.

Oh, the places he will go. I am sorry they are missing that.