Being Special in an Imperfect World

Tears welled up in my eyes as I watched the presentation of children and youngsters during my son’s recital in his school. Like most parents, I was beaming as my son performed a mean feat of “Row, row, row your boat” on the piano. I felt as accomplished as he was when he took his bow after his performance. Everyone was applauding performance after performance.

You see it was no ordinary recital. The participants are special children and those with special needs or what some would refer to as learning disability. My son belongs to the latter. In certain ways, I am thankful he is as normal as other neighborhood kids able to go about his daily activities. Yet at times, he has difficulty adjusting to his environment throwing tantrums and unable to deal with even the slightest disappointments in life. This can proved challenging particularly in a hostile environment.

At a tender age, my son experienced rejection at the hands of school officials and some teachers when they kicked him out of that school for his condition after spending five long years in that school . Presumably, it is for the greater good of the majority of the students. It felt like my young son was a criminal who would go berserk and hurt his fellow classmates in the process. He took the decision hard as he had learned to love that school, his friends there and his teachers. I took the fatal blow seeing my son experiencing emotional trauma at nine years old.

But we had to move on. We considered two schools offering special education programs. We had to settle for his current school as the cost of education in the other school is simply beyond our means. We were unsure what to expect. We want him not to deviate from his usual way as a normal kid going to a regular school. Yet reality sucks for him being the new boy in the school.

In the first few weeks, I literally dragged him to go to school. He did not seem inspired and was simply coasting along. He resented going to his SPED sessions which he was required to attend and preferred instead to just be in his regular classes. In fact, he hated the idea that he was among these kids. In a photo of him with the SPED kids, I asked why he was the only one not posing. His response floored me. He said, “ I just want to act normal.” I realized that he himself has put a label to his condition and probably thinks something is wrong with him. Even towards the end of the school year, there were still struggles.

Only time will tell whether we made the right decision for him or not. I take comfort in the fact that he is recognized for his strengths and helped to overcome his weaknesses. His teachers are very helpful and sensitive to the each kid entrusted to them. While this is expected, it means a lot to parents like us with kids like my son.

The real beauty lies in the kids themselves who learned to cope and accept themselves and blend with the rest. It is also in the rest of the students who try to make our children’s lives easier by letting them be who they ought to be. In a number of school activities I attended, I witness regular students encouraging and helping the “special” kids during presentations. I could not help but cry the first time I saw this. I still get emotional at times. In the process, I have been taught a lot of things.

Lessons are also learned in the most ordinary circumstances. After his number during the recital, my son sat with me as we continued to watch the show. A group of youngsters were ushered in assisted by teachers. The performers immediately took delight as they were given their instrument – bells of different colors for each one. One could not contain his excitement and utter some gibberish babble. My son stippled his laughter and I had to gloat at him and quietly asked him if he think what he was doing is appropriate. Fortunately, he realized his mistake and apologized for his action.

We are hopeful that my son will outgrow his condition. His therapist told us that with proper management and a lot of guidance, the condition can be overcome or outgrown later in life. I am keeping a close watch and from where I stand, my son is your average kid who is just a little rough on the edges (to borrow from Hugh Grant's dialogue with Sandra Bullock towards the end of the movie "Two Weeks' Notice"). But more than overcoming his tendencies, I would be the accomplished mom if I see him doing his share for the lot of children like him. Then maybe the world would seem perfect at last.