Some stories are meant to be told. You may not know how important they are until the stars align in such a way that leave a constellation in the sky. The more stars that join the constellation, the further it stretches across the celestial sphere, incapable of being ignored from those who look up.
A few stars aligned for this story. There are more to come…
*******
Of the many e-mails and messages I’ve received over the past four years, there are a handful I’ve saved in a special folder–stories I need to be reminded of; words and images that challenge me to stretch further; little things that I, for some reason, felt were extra important to hang on to.
A month before Bloom was published, I received an e-mail from a reader–a young mom who included a photo of herself holding a baby girl on her hip. It was short and right to the point.
I stumbled across your blog a little over two years ago–and it changed my life.
In the 5th grade, I sat next to a sweet girl with the same genetic makeup as your Nella.
I didn’t expect the sentence that followed, and when I read it, my stomach flipped.
And I was mean to her.
Before I read any further, I looked at the attached picture again to connect the woman who wrote this–the one who was mean to a girl with Down syndrome in 5th grade–to who she had become. She was pretty and looked so kind and nurturing, her baby propped on her hip, her head tilted in toward her, subconsciously protecting her. She looked like she could easily be my friend.
I read on:
To this day, I am disgusted with my behavior. Yes, I was young. Yes, I didn’t understand. But I am still ashamed.
I think about that sweet girl a lot. I wonder what she’s doing with her life, who is loving her, and if she’s persevering in a world that likes to exclude and discriminate. I wonder who is advocating for her…
There’s a tidal wave of change coming–acceptance, advocacy, and empathy. Something that was absent when I was in the 5th grade.
I’m hopeful and inspired.
I pray everyday that there are less people like my 5th grade self and more people like you.
With the deepest gratitude…
I wrote the woman back, tears streaming as I typed, telling her how much her e-mail meant to me. I thanked her for being brave and honest and told her the most beautiful stories are ones where people change. I was changing too, so I knew. Later, I read the e-mail to Brett and over the phone to my mom and dad and sister and finally tucked it away in the special folder, not to return to it again but to mark its impact on me. I don’t know why it stood out so much, but I haven’t forgotten that story.
Fast forward.
A year ago, I began following a woman on Instagram through mutual connections. Her posts were funny and insightful, and I connected with the way she interacted with her children and loved her family. She contributed to a writing collaboration with me and some other friends earlier this year, and I finally had the chance to meet her two weeks ago when she traveled with her three children–one just two months old–to Orcas Island to spend the first day with us. I held her baby on the ferry, learned more about her life and enjoyed watching her lovingly guide her son, who was recently diagnosed with type 1 diabetes, through his sugar checks and carb counting. Maggie was a joy, but I knew that before I even met her.
Once home, I invited her to submit a quote to a motherhood piece I was putting together. A few days after she sent it, I went back into my e-mail to find it, typing her name–Maggie Jones–in the search bar.
I found her quote.
And underneath that e-mail, I found another e-mail she had apparently sent me two years ago. It was titled “With Gratitude.” I clicked on it.
I stumbled across your blog a little over two years ago–and it changed my life.
In the 5th grade, I sat next to a sweet girl with the same genetic makeup as your Nella.
And I was mean to her.
It was Maggie.
I hugged her, cooed at her new baby and applauded her son as he proudly pricked his finger in front of me two weeks earlier and never realized it was the same Maggie who was mean to the girl with Down syndrome in 5th grade. Scrolling down, I found the picture again, this time familiar with that strawberry blond hair, those freckled cheeks and her warm smile. The baby on her hip was the toddler who, weeks earlier, had run around the back of the ferry and attempted to climb the railing to look for whales.
Late that night, I e-mailed her, “It Was You” in the subject line.
We’ve since talked a lot about why kids are mean to other kids with disabilities. We say things like “Mean kids must have mean parents,” but that’s not always true. It wasn’t true in Maggie’s case.
I wanted to know more about Maggie’s experience, so I asked her to write about it.
******
Kristin
by Maggie Jones
It was the first day of 6th grade. I walked into the classroom, nervously hugging friends and scanning the room for my desk assignment. Three desks to a group; organized clusters throughout the room. Margaret was printed in perfect form in a group near the back of the classroom, next to the teacher’s desk. I took my seat and arched my neck to see who was next to me. Shaina to my left and…
…I had instant anxiety. Kristin to my right.
Kristin and I had been in the same class since 3rd grade. She had bright blonde hair that was bobbed at her chin. She wore sweaters that were unraveled at the cuffs and shoes that were worn at the toe. She was kind and quiet. She kept to herself.
I was mean to her.
Kristin had Down syndrome.
I heard giggles across the room that were directed towards me. I couldn’t sit here; I needed to move.
I asked my teacher, Can I please move desks? I really like the front of the room.
She saw right through to the root of my request. I sat you next to Kristin because you are compassionate. I knew you’d be kind.
Guilt struck my heart directly, with great force. She didn’t know me at all. She didn’t know that the previous school year I threw this girl’s jacket across the room and yelled, “Blackout!”, a cruel game that tormented other kids by insinuating they had cooties. She didn’t know that I cringed and pretended to puke to my friends as she tested her blood sugar at her desk. Kristin was also a type 1 diabetic. No, she didn’t know me.
I sat down at my desk, wondering what type of social suicide this seating assignment would mean for me.
The rest of the school year, Kristin would leave class often with a teacher’s aide. By the end of the year a good portion of her time spent at school wasn’t in the classroom with us.
No one talked about Down syndrome.
No one talked about diabetes.
No one talked about Kristin.
As we grew up, the less I saw of Kristin, the more I thought about her. She was moved from public school into a specialized program for students with special needs. I replayed the moments of meanness, wondering if I cut her deep.
Did she know? Did I damage her in some way?
Just as our limbs stretch and grow; so do our hearts. Mine did so in high school. I could feel the chains of acceptance and popularity grip tightly around my wrists, but I was able to break loose. It’s in those moments of adolescence when you truly transform from scared child to compassionate human being. It’s with that compassion, my conscious bloomed.
I am now a mother of three beautiful kids, one of whom is a type 1 diabetic. At four years old, he proudly tests his blood sugar and gives himself insulin. He is the bravest boy I know. As he waits for the glucose meter to display a number, he quickly licks the bead of blood off his finger. I’m instantly taken back to 6th grade—back to Kristin.
I feel overwhelmed with shame.
This primal force inside me screams for advocacy. Curiosity quickly turns to cruelty if children do not have advocates—leaving ignorance to swallow up the best parts of us. This is not the life I want for my children. This is not the life I want for sweet Nella.
And this certainly wasn’t the life Kristin deserved.
*****
While we try not to, I think every parent of a child with special needs (and any child, for that matter) has at least imagined, if not experienced, a moment where their child was made fun of or left out for being different. It’s hard to think about any of my kids connected to games like “Blackout” or seating partners to a girl who’d roll her eyes and ask to be switched. But, you know what? We’ve all been mean before or said something that wasn’t very nice, and just as those things don’t necessarily define us for life as being a “mean girl,” neither does fifth grade ignorance. In fact, Maggie’s teacher told her she specifically picked her because she was compassionate and knew she’d be kind. Ironically, in her own need to feel accepted and popular, she made someone else feel unaccepted and unpopular. There’s some truth there. I think a lot of kids have been there.
It’s easy to pass off discrimination and ridicule as coming from mean kids with mean parents who will always be mean, but there’s a lot more we need to understand to make it stop. No one talked about Down syndrome at Maggie’s school. No one took away the fear, the questions; no one stripped the stigma from the students; no one asked the kids what they wanted to know and erased the lines that were needlessly drawn to distinguish differences. Gradually, Kristin faded into a world where kids with special needs stayed with other kids with special needs, and no one stood up to challenge that fact because they had no information to even promote thought about what ever happened to Kristin.
Maggie knows where she is now. After recently finding her home, she knows that Kristin is well today. I’m so thankful that Kristin made an impact on Maggie, not only making her more aware in her efforts to teach kindness and acceptance to her children, but allowing her to share her experience with me…with us.
Many of today’s kids will, like Maggie, grow up and feel differently, be ashamed of how they treated someone, have their own children someday and truly understand what selfless love and compassion feels like. How do we catch them earlier though? Before they play Blackout or mumble a quiet joke under their breath.
We talk about everything, that’s how–and we do it early. We talk about, we live it, we celebrate the truth in these topics–differences, acceptance, popularity, compassion, the way the world’s cogs all click together and work most smoothly when everyone looks out for everyone. And if we’re doing a good job teaching that in elementary school, then we need to do an even better job enforcing it and showing it in middle school and high school. Because those are the years when children are teetering between childhood and adulthood. Those are the years when they are needing to feel most accepted, and “accepted” is sometimes misconstrued as “popular.” The thirst for acceptance can dangerously shift into the thirst for popularity, and the cost of that can often mean someone else’s acceptance. That’s never okay.
Maggie’s story is just another little star in the great big constellation we’re creating. We need more stars, more stretch, more glow from the black sky that spans above every one of us.
Thank you so much, Maggie, for making us better advocates, for helping us twinkle brighter, for calling more stars.
“Curiosity quickly turns to cruelty if children do not have advocates—leaving ignorance to swallow up the best parts of us. This is not the life I want for my children.”
You can follow more of Maggie and her family at her blog, The Rural Roost.
Elena says
My 5 year old has Down syndrome. I didn’t want it to be a huge elephant in his kindergarten classroom. I created a photo book that included lots of photos of my son doing typical kid things as well as a child friendly definition of what Down syndrome is and specifics on how it affects my son. I also made sure I emphasized that he is more like them than he is different from them. My philosophy is – the more you know the more you understand.
This blog post brought a tear to my eye but left me with hope in my heart.
Kathlyn says
God bless, Kelle. This brought me to tears . . . again! Working on creating more of the constellation up here with my kids.
Jenrobburton says
I have a huge lump in my throat and I’m blinking back tears here.
My son is just a month older than Nella, and we’ve been struggling with some behavior problems at preschool. My gut tells me others are being mean to him and he’s taking out his fear/frustration/anger on others still. It’s a vicious cycle. One I am eager to break now.
It’s also made me think back to what it was like when I was in school. I didn’t generally make fun or be mean to other kids, but I was too shy, too scared, trying too hard to fit in to stand up to the bullies who did. I wish I had gained that courage earlier.
I hope to teach my son this lesson. Of course, I don’t want him to be the mean kid. But I want him to take it a step further and be brave enough to stand up for the ones whose voices may not be as strong or may sound different.
I don’t imagine kids’ bullying and meanness will ever completely go away, but if we can stress compassion, caring and courage, maybe the world will be a better place for everyone.
Natalie REid says
This beautiful post most certainly brought tears to my eyes and made me ache a little for the future of my own 4 year old son with special needs. I do believe there is hope for a future where he will be accepted by all. This bumpy road can be a scary ride. Kelle, thanks for all you share and all you do to give me hope.
Lindsay Marie says
This is a really beautiful post. As a social worker, stories like this make me double my efforts to advocate for individuals like Nella and Kristin. Thank you Maggie, for being brave enough to share your story.
Karen says
“But, you know what? We’ve all been mean before or said something that wasn’t very nice, and just as those things don’t necessarily define us for life as being a “mean girl,” neither does fifth grade ignorance. In fact, Maggie’s teacher told her she specifically picked her because she was compassionate and knew she’d be kind. Ironically, in her own need to feel accepted and popular, she made someone else feel unaccepted and unpopular. There’s some truth there. I think a lot of kids have been there.”
So.Much.Truth. This was hard to read, for many reasons. We had kids with special needs come to our gym class in junior high. Never were we told about them or how we could interact with them. The unknown was scary. One girl was nonverbal and would make loud noises intermittently. No wonder I was so worried for my child when he was born with a disability! I was so scared he would be made fun of and not be included. I was so scared that I would be the only one who want to hug and kiss him. I am SO grateful for all of the awareness for special needs and that my almost 5 year old is in a typical preschool program. His classmates and teaches are wonderful to him! I’m hoping that the world continues to grow and learn about how all people are different and yet, the same. That all people are gifts, have feelings, and are to be included and loved, not tolerated. Thank you for sharing this Kelle! Thank you, Maggie, for writing this! I already follow you on IG and love your feed. I am also grateful that I am not the same person I was 5 years ago. My boy has changed me, for the better! Karen H.
Ragon Duffy says
There is a great social media campaign happening this week called #weneeddiversebooks aimed at making children’s and young adult literature more inclusive, more reflective of the diverse experiences being lived by our kids. Including the voices of kids with disabilities, medical issues, Down syndrome is one way we can dispel the fear of the different that often prompts cruelty. Please check it out and participate.
http://weneeddiversebooks.tumblr.com
Poot & Boogie says
Thank you Ragon Duffy for sharing that! Kelle, I have emailed you about a movement that I created called The Awesome Advocates, teaching kids as young as we can that their differences is what makes them Awesome is what is going to create change! ~Leanna http://www.pootandboogie.com
Holly says
I rarely comment on blogs feeling like I don’t have the right thing to say. I’ve followed your blog for a year now and ready your book. What attracted me to the blog was little Nella. Not becaus of her down syndrome but because she reminds me of my youngest. Her personality is so very similar to my little girl. The blog and that connection has taught me to see special needs in a new light. I’ve never judged them and in high school working in the special needs department, but I also never saw who they really were. Now, I am teaching my girls to see the special needs a trait of who the real person is. Much the same way you view their hair color, height, or any other trait. Anyway, this post hit home for me and for the girls I’m hoping to raise more accepting and loving to everyone no matter their unique and special traits.
Stephanie Precourt says
Wow absolute chills.
xoxo
Steph
Amanda says
Wow. Thank you, Maggie for sharing your story and thank you, Kelle, for the connection you have with her that allowed her story to be shared with so many. I only hope I can teach my 2 year old daughter compassion and acceptance, and that she is never mean.
Averyl Minori says
Wow….this post brought tears to my eyes…
ashley @ little miss momma says
so absolutely beautiful. Tears streaming down my cheeks and a heart full of love. Shared this post on Facebook so that this constellation can keep growing. This story needs to be told, so thank you.
xoxo, ashley
http://www.littlemissmomma.com
"Cottage By The Sea" says
Wow! This post was all at once sad and enlightening. I can’t explain, having raised a son with extreme special needs how much it means to me when you say that children need advocates. They do, and they need them early on and they need them to never give up. Most special needs aren’t something that gets ‘grown out of’. My son presented well, i.e., no outward signs when you first met him. But his issues were strong and deep and difficult, making this a problem that for some time only his family experienced. He ended up in a different school every year or 12 years because so many people gave up on him. We are (if I do say so) excellent advocates for children and I believe that is why God gave us this one. He is our adopted son. When we prayed for an adoption to happen we asked for whichever kid needed us the most, no matter race, color, creed or special need. Although it took us a lifetime to find out – we got just what we asked for and through unconditional love, we made a difference. I love your blog and your stories and your book. You make a difference every day. Someday when my story comes out I hope you’ll read it.
Anna May says
As a mom, I have so many worries. They are pretty much summed up by saying I worry that my children will be hurt — emotionally or physically. But, I worry even more that my children might be the ones to cause the hurt. Not because they are the kinds of kids that might — they really aren’t. They are generally kind, good kids, but I worry anyway, for exactly the reasons you mention above. I think you are right that awareness and always looking for the teachable moment is our best hope.
We had just such a moment yesterday. A little boy in my daughter’s class has driven her nuts all year. Each day, she comes home with a tale of some way he’s disrupted the class, hurt someone, or just been annoying. Earlier in the year, when she was injured, he even asked her if it would hurt if he touched her injury and when she said, “YES!”, he poked her right in that spot. It’s easy to see why she and her friends sigh when they speak of him and try to avoid him. Maybe even smart for them to do so.
Yesterday was a chance for the parents to visit school to see the big projects the children have been creating all year. The teachers went out of their way to make sure every child had a parent there and if not, to make arrangements for another special adult in the school to be that child’s person. As we were leaving, I noticed one little boy sitting in the corner sobbing. Of course, the teacher was doing her best to console him, but nothing was helping. Turns out that his mom not only didn’t come, but didn’t take the time to let the school know so that they could plan for him. I asked my daughter who he was and nearly burst into tears when she said the same name she’s been complaining about all year.
We spent the rest of the day talking about how my daughter could try to understand more about him and why his behavior has nothing to do with trying to annoy her. How she could be the person to reach out to him and be his friend. I so hope it helps! I so wish you didn’t have to be an adult to get that. I so wish the adults who still didn’t get it would.
My best friend’s grandma had a simple lesson she shared: You’ve lived a good life if you just try to make someone smile. Every day.
AndreaG says
As the mother of a daughter with Albinism I have similar experiences, fears and joys as all other moms raising children with special needs.
“Curiosity quickly turns to cruelty if children…” are not educated. At least that’s been our experience. It’s not their intent to be mean. Different is confusing and scary. So we learned early on not to hide from Lindsay’s condition but to embrace it.
At the beginning of each school year Lindsay will bravely stand up in front of her new class – with her vision teacher at her side – explaining Albinism…not the genetics of it but why she always wears hats, why her eyes “dance” (a secondary condition called Nystagmus), why she always has to sit up front, why she leaves the classroom for specialized instruction, etc. She even opens it up to questions…that brave little girl of mine. And the minute the kids UNDERSTAND they accept. It’s truly amazing.
Jess says
Gosh that’s brought a tear to my eye. And made me think,about everything really….
This is why your blog is so important Kelle,you write and share stories that need to be heard….thank you x
Linda Nargi says
Thank you for writing this post and thank you to Maggie for contributing her part as well.
Wow. I have streaming down my face and goosebumps all over my whole body. Lila has been struggling at school, telling me that kids are being mean to her. I am trying to put some things together to advocate for both her and Lexi in a more effective way.
xoxo
Linda
Shannon says
There is oppertunity everywhere to talk to your kids. Some kids are good about asking when they see something or someone out of the ordinary, but many are not. When I notice an oppertunity to share with my kids about something different, I take a mental note and either talk to them about it then or at a more appropriate time like not in ear shot of the child in the wheel chair, or the women with dwarfism, etc. Having a daughter with Down syndrome has definitely made me more aware of how important my voice is to my children in teaching them about life and differences. I often have to be this voice for my daughter for other children (and adults) whose parents don’t know what to say. Ive learn most people are not cruel- they are just ignorant. When you wipe away the ignorance you see a lot more love.
Maria says
This brought tears to my eyes for many reasons but mostly because it made me think of my mother. Both of my parents have passed away & it’s a loss like no other. It is indescribable. We were raised in a home knowing nothing but love. My parents were love scholars. My mother, especially, was so loving & accepting of everyone. Our house was where all the kids flocked to. We had twin brothers in our school who were pretty much on their own. We really don’t know who took care of them. Their clothes were never clean & they smelled bad. They were picked on by almost everyone. Children can be very cruel. One day, I came home & saw my mother walking out of our house with them. They were each carrying two bags. My mother ran into them wondering the streets when they should have been in school. She took them home with her, fed them lunch & then took them to the store to buy them each a new pair of pants & a new shirt. I’m crying as I write this. I was so very blessed to grow up in the home I grew up in, with the family I am so proud to call mine. We grew up accepting everyone & embracing their differences. No one was ever left out of our play group. Today, as adults, we view everyone in the world as an extension of our family. While that’s not always easy to do with the current state of world affairs, it’s so easy to be angry & hateful toward the evil in the world, I still lean towards sympathy towards them because they did not grow up in a home like ours. There are so many out there like us, so many good & loving people, that I am so hopeful for the world Nella will grow up in. For the world all of our children will grow up in. And it starts with us, at home.
Megan Landmeier says
“Curiosity quickly turns to cruelty if children do not have advocates—leaving ignorance to swallow up the best parts of us. This is not the life I want for my children.”
Beautiful. And so true. And heartbreaking, yet hopeful
Susan says
I really did like this post and wow, I’m sure many can say it made us journey back in our minds to elementary school. I, too, went to school with several special need children. Not even sure if I knew what specific special need it was 😉 My teaching also came strongly in the home. My mom would have none of it when it came to bullying, meanness or negativity. It makes me smile thinking about it. Maggie’s honesty is refreshing. I enjoyed her post.
caygraymomma says
Wow. Beautiful story. Beautiful moment. Thank you Maggie!
As a mom of kids with needs it is so lovely to open this discussion up. Really, we teach in our home that sometimes people are cruel because they don’t know better and we hope that as they mature they find their way to understanding. We hope as a family that we can help lead them toward understanding. I was also once a grade five student that didn’t understand and thanks to life and becoming a mom I have grown to understand so much.
It is reassuring to hear from other formerly grade five students that understand now. One heart at a time. Thank you Maggie!
Juliet says
What a beautiful post. I really enjoyed reading it, as well as all these comments.
I was never mean to any of the special needs kids in our school, but I ignored them. Completely. I’m ashamed of that now. I’m in school to be a special education teacher now, and when I think back on how those children must have felt, to be so ignored, so walled off from any friendships, it hurts my heart.
I have a six year old daughter, and one of her best friends is a little girl with Down syndrome. I’d love to hear some child-friendly definitions of Down syndrome to share with her, or some book suggestions. We’ve talked about it, but I wasn’t quite sure how to explain it in a simple way for her to understand.
I completely agree that we need to talk to children, at home and at school, and break down that fear.
Argyrie says
Very powerful and enlightening. We’ve all learned a lot just getting to know Nella which has changed a lot about our interactions with special needs children and adults. This post is one of your most important ones to date.
mommykelly says
Kelle,
It’s no mistake God or the Universe or whatever you want to call it makes these crazy coincidences happen to you. You are a funnel from somewhere good. Oh Maggie, I don’t know you- but I am hugging you fierce. That was very brave and beautiful. I think we’ve ALL done things we just aren’t proud of as a child- I certainly have- and if you grow and change- they come back to haunt you. If you grow but don’t change- they don’t haunt you. You wouldn’t even remember or look back. So well done you- evolving into the woman you have become. I want you to say goodbye to any shame that may be clinging on. You are inspiring me to dig into my heart a little deeper in order to live and write a little truer. Best, Chrissy
Mandy Boles says
Thank you Maggie and Kelle. This is so beautiful. As a special needs sibling I talk to my kids about their uncle and what it means to have Autism or (insert diagnosis here). I think our generation is going to raise children more likely to be compassionate advocates for their peers. This post gives me so much hope.
nhoines says
Loved reading this. Thank you both for sharing. My daughter is having some difficulty understanding one of her peers right now, because she is different (her race and some birth complications that have caused life-long health issues), but this helps remind me that I need to talk with her more about it and not just let it go or slide it under the rug. Thank you for this reminder!
Dianne S says
Thank you for sharing this beautiful story.
My son was just diagnosed with a genetic disorder (he has an extra chromosome but it is a rare one that doesn’t really have a name, just a scary sequence of letters and numbers). My husband and I are trying to take one day at a time and enjoy the little boy that he is while trying to to focus too much on where he is behind (that said, we have a full team of specialists and early intervention that work with him to help him be the best he can be).
I so appreciate this conversation because what i worry about the most is that the world will be cruel to him and that even though a school might put him in a class room with other kids he might always be isolated. I so hope that we can find a community that encourages kindness, communicative and empathy.
The other night we were watching Wheel of Fortune (which someone became a habit after staying in the house for months with a preemie) and one of the contestants was a young man with special needs. The wonderful thing was he was treated like a contestant, just like the other two people on the show that night. He won a few rounds and lost a few and it was great. I am planning to write to the show and thank them.
Sian says
Oh such a good and important post. Thank you for sharing xxx
shannon says
This one should have come a “tissue warning”, a box needed. My son is 15 with Down Syndrome. He has been teased, not only by the “typical” kids but those with special needs just like him. That is something I would have never, ever thought would happen, but it did. He wants desperately to have friends and just be like the other kids. He is a boy that wants to do what all the other boys are doing, and on some level he knows that he can not because as he says, “I have special needs”. We have found that because my daughter has a brother with special needs she will go out of her way to help others, whether it is someone being left out, special needs, or someone who needs a friend. Some days being in “Holland” is not where I want to be, but most of the time it is amazing.
Thank you for sharing.
ella says
Such a good post, thank you for sharing.
The Trousdell Five says
Awesome, awesome, awesome. Stars aligning stories are my favourite kind!
The Trousdell Five says
Awesome, awesome, awesome. Stars aligning stories are my favourite kind!
Karen says
I am sure most of the other readers also have special needs children. I work with special needs children and am trying to adopt a young special needs child from foster care, but find balm for myself. I attended school in the very late 70’s and through the 80’s and I had active Tourette Syndrome made more active by the anxiety from being bullied and ostracized. Introverted and quiet by nature, I made barking sounds that were sometimes mistaken at first for hiccups and I blinked erratically. I was ignored, punched, verbally teased, sexually harasses in intermediate school; had personal and school items stolen, broken and hidden at school, and at the bus stop when I was younger. Teachers never directly intervened. Bullying wasn’t really recognized when we were growing up. It was mostly swept under the rug. I am so lucky to have completed school long before cyber-bullying emerged but still I spent an awful lot of time between ages 10 to 16 wishing myself dead. Bullying costs people years off of their lives. It makes all aspects of one’s life harder, and it tragically takes so many young lives now but it really is not forever. I wish all kids being bullied could know that it will end, it will get better; if they can hang on and hold their heads up they will get through. Every tunnel has an end even when you are too far back to see the end yet. Sometimesit is just a very long tunnel.
Vanessa says
This was a beautiful post.
Our daughter was born with a cleft, and while it is not on the same spectrum of DS, it is one more thing for bullies to grab on to. One more thing for the “mean girl” to use as ammo. It’s something I know we will deal with as she grows older.
Sometimes I think to myself about how mercilessly I was made fun of every single day on the school bus. Why? Because I have freckles. So I hate to even think about how much teasing our daughter might endure. Or other kids with other differences or special needs for that matter.
Posts like this remind us all that WE can be the change that prevents our kids from continuing this kind of behavior. We can teach our kids from a young age that being different is okay and that while we don’t have to be friends with or even like everyone we meet – we need to treat every human being with respect and kindness.
Thank you for this post.
Nicolette Gawthrop says
wow. i think it’s important to have these types of conversations and connections and i love the way that Maggie’s confession and the result of sharing with Enjoying the Small Things readers feel like atonement while creating awareness and accountability. like you said, we’ve all had moments in our adolescence that we look back on and have a hard time accounting for our behavior.
i love maggie, and it is not a surprise the level of integrity to be so boldly honest and bring light to this hard topic.
nice work, ladies. xoxoxoxo
Jessica says
Beautiful post.
Anna Theurer says
This may be one of my favorite posts. Beautifully written, Kelle. Thank you, Maggie, for telling your story.
Linda Andres says
I learned about you from a friend who shared a quote you shared with her. I am glad I did. I am a teacher and seek to help my students understand inclusion as gently but as forthrightly as I can.
It is beautiful when a circle brings us back. For me, it happened another way. I was the person who didn’t quite fit in with the small group of students in my university music year. They weren’t cruel just noninclusive.
But years later, in a small town across the border and a long days journey away. I was asked to sing at a funeral of a stranger because his family knew of me from a different performance.
I invited them to look through his favourite records for a song that would have meaning to them on that day. The called the next morning to say his daughter had stayed up all night listening to his albums and had chosen a piece.
When she arrived at my door, to both of our surprise, she was one of that small (less than 20) group of students that I had briefly known so many years before.
Serendipity has a way of healing the past sometimes and teaches us forward in others.
Wendy McDonagh-Valentine says
One of the most touching posts I’ve ever read. I can honestly say that I was always the one who took the time to talk to classmates that may have been considered “different” from the others. This could’ve been for any number of reasons. Children are so cruel and it makes me so sad. When you know better, you do better. I have always told my children there’s a big chance that if someone is a bully in school they probably don’t have a very happy life at home. Either that or they’re very insecure with their own self so they try to make others look bad. My boys have all grown to be compassionate and caring young men and my three year old daughter is showing signs of the same. It starts at home. Your Nella is truly a gift from God and she was given to you so that you could be a catalyst for change. Many blessings to you and your family. xo
~ Wendy
Raelyn says
Kelle….
What a real, powerful letter!! I truly appreciate her honesty. As a learning disabled, weird, oddball girl growing up, I was consistently made fun of and called nasty names by mean kids. Even at age 21!! But Michael?–who has Down syndrome?–I thank God his life has been spared of that. Truly. 😉
That story!! Wow. Just wow!! ;-D
This will most likely be my last comment for awhile as Grandma is flying in from California tonight. We shall see…. 😉
Love you later, Raelyn
Unknown says
I wonder if it’s just a coincidence that the song “Chances” by Five for Fighting came on while I was reading this post.
Sarah says
I burst in to tears reading this, I felt like I was reading my own story. In year 2 I went to school with a Down syndrome girl who didn’t really interact or speak with anyone. I have a vivid memory of picking on her on one occasion with a group of my friends. I was the instigator. I remember how later the guilt I felt, at the age of 6 was huge and it’s never left me. It’s interesting how life turns out though. Within the year I was sexually abused by a neighbour, my parents divorced, we moved towns and for the rest of my schooling I was bullied.
As an adult I’ve come across a couple of Down syndrome young ladies (interestingly in that same town) and I always made sure they were treated like everyone else and included. I photographed them both at a debutante ball and made such a fuss over how lovely they looked. One went on to study a business certificate at the university I worked for and I used to let her come work with me for experience whenever she requested it.
I never picked on someone with a disability after that one day and yet it still hurts. I don’t know where she is now.
Thanks for sharing these stories.
melissa says
Such a good story to tell on both of your accounts – thank you for sharing. Much love and Tejas hugs,
Melissa
Jessica Brown says
I have read your blog for years, but have never commented. This post just struck a chord for me. I think you make a good point about education and advocating, but I also think the issue is even more complex than that. For example, I live a a very small town in Maine. Our school district is comprised of six towns and there are between 30-50kids at each grade level. When my older son was in pre-k, there was a huge problem with kids picking on each other. Teachers were at their whits ends, parents were ready to pull kids from school. There was a special meeting at school to discuss how the school was going to address the issue. These kids were only four years old. It was horrible. My son was picked on at one point during the school year and didn’t want to go to school. He is typically developing so it was not just special needs kids that were the target. Now, two years later, the school still struggles with this issue in his class. This year, my younger son who has autism spectrum disorder started pre-k. I was a nervous wreck. I literally felt sick on the first day of school. My son really wants to be social and make friends. He loves everyone, but doesn’t always know the appropriate way to interact or approach people. I could just see him getting chewed up and spit out by the other kids at school. Well, for what ever reason, his class is totally different. They are all friendly with each other. They go out of their way to help each other. My son told me how he sang the days of the week by himself (he hates singing and other people singing due to sensory issues). He told me that when he sang the days of the week, his classmate gave him a high five. One day, when I dropped him off at school, he met up with another child and they walked into school hand in hand. Another day, he dropped his backpack and about six kids swooped in to pick it up for him. On school vacations, my son says that he misses his friends. We see other kids from school a different events like the Christmas tree lighting and my son is always welcomed into the group of kids running around playing. When I see his classmates outside of school and my son is not with me, they will ask where his is. When I mentioned to the teacher that I was glad the kids were so supportive of my son, she said that they were all supportive of each other. How can two groups of kids be so different? These kids are raised in the same community and sometimes by the same parents (siblings of my older son’s classmates are in my younger son’s class). They have the same teachers. It just baffles me. Is personalities or do certain kids just sort of feed off each other? I wish I knew.
Amy Carmichael says
Hi Kelle, I know it’s sometimes annoying when people talk about themselves on other people’s pages, but you’re constantly inspiring me to grab life by the ears and live a little. So, I wanted to share a story with you that inspired me and also a little thought.
Thanks so much for everything that you do and that you stand for!
http://amycarmichaelyoo.blogspot.com/2014/05/up-up-up-for-zach-sobiech.html
Megan says
Such a fantastic post. Thank you.
Smoochyloo says
You know, every once in awhile, I come to this blog to catch on an “old friend” (I know you but I don’t)read the posts and follow the links to more inspiring people and blogs. Today didn’t disappoint. This post was interesting and I think that most children are now exposed to a lot more than we were. My sons are very protective of a few special needs children at their school. They are so empathetic that they are sometimes pulled out of class to “help” out, because they have a calming effect on the children. This is reflective of the all-inclusive attitude I have instilled in them. It makes me so proud and your blog post reminded me of this. I am too often hard on myself as a mother, but just now you reminded me of the three little human beings that I’m shaping to set free in our world. And I’m so proud of myself. Thanks.