Living in a rather small town and being someone in a wheelchair, I am often
easily recognized. People I hardly know stop me on the street and ask me how my
son is. They tell me they’ve seen him standing on the back of my wheelchair as
we rode through town. This always gave me a warm feeling of belonging to the
community.
As a volunteer at my son’s elementary school, many of the
students recognized us whenever we were in the local playground. Being excited
by seeing someone they knew, they’d run up to me saying hi, interrupting my
conversation with their parent. For one four year old girl seeing me in the
playground, or anywhere else for that matter, was an absolute trauma. As soon
as she saw me, she’d run to her mother cry hysterically and demand they go
home. Unable to calm her child the mother packed up their belongings, her other
child and after apologizing to me, left the playground. I was saddened by her
reaction. Not only did I feel bad that my presence bothered this little girl,
but their leaving never gave me a chance to get to know her mother.
In school, whenever I entered the classroom she was in,
she’d panic, run to the back of the room and face the wall so she didn’t have
to look at me. Crying, she knew going home was not an option. Her second grade
teacher decided to have me speak to the class about my disability. Everyone,
except for the terrified girl who stared out the window, listened and asked
questions. I was later told even her classmates tried explaining to her there
was nothing to be afraid of. The teacher and I hoped it would be something
she’d grew out of.
When she was in the third grade there was still no
change. Disheartened I couldn’t help but break down and cry over the fact that
she was still afraid of me while the others were not. I just didn’t know what
more I could do to help her get over her fear. Seeing my tears, the teacher and
the principal reminded me of the very reason I volunteered. It was their belief
that children at a young age should come in contact with me in order to
increase their awareness of people who have disabilities and to decrease their
fears. We were all at a loss as to how to help this student but knew she
shouldn’t be rushed.
In the fifth grade her fear seemed to worsen. She didn’t
dare walk past me and ran back to her classroom when she saw me in the
schoolyard waiting for my son. I began to realize nothing was going to change
without some kind of intervention. She somehow needed to be stimulated into no
longer being afraid so I spoke with her teachers about how to help her. When
they asked her why she was afraid she said she didn’t know. Her parents were
made aware of the situation but no matter what was said or done, her fears could
not be calmed.
It was three weeks before summer vacation that I received
a message on Facebook asking if I’d “friend” her. I thought the request came
from her mother as an attempt to help her daughter so I accepted the friend
request right away. After sending her mother a message thanking her for the
request I received an instant message saying her mother didn’t contact me and
asked if she could chat with me. We chatted a bit that day and a few times
after until she was comfortable enough to ask if she and her mother could come
visit me. Of course I immediately said yes.
What happened when they came was something extraordinary
to see. I opened my front door and clinging to her mother, they entered but she
dared not to go further. Sensing this, I told them to have a seat on the couch
while I brought our dog into the yard. Upon my return I found her sitting as
close to her mother as possible. I ignored this and started a conversation with
her mother hoping she’d join in when she felt comfortable. She chose her words
carefully and slowly when she spoke. As time went on I saw her whole body
relax. It was magic to see the fear leave her. At one point I got out of my
wheelchair and sat next to them in my recliner. Before they left, she moved
next to me so her mother could take our picture as proof she was no longer
afraid.
As it turns out, she now comes to my house after school
when her mother has to work. The three of us have become good friends.
What I learned from all this is: You can be different and
make a difference. With patience and love miracles really do happen.
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And now we even dress alike. |