Just putting some thought into words friends. The book is also about my crazy, weird, interesting experiences growing up. Thanks for reading. Please give feed back! What would make it more interesting other than some senseless violence, naked dancing girls or farm animals behaving badly? Email me!!
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As a child, I started off at a school for “special” children. It was basically a school for children with mental and physical disabilities. Although the staff were good and caring people, Dad quickly realized this was not going to be such a good idea for me. I may have some physical challenges but Dad felt I had a few brain cells to rub together and I needed to put them to use. For me to have the best chance in this life I must face the same challenges everyone else faces. This is not to say anything bad about schools for the disabled; this is in my case. Dad talked Mom and Grandmother, Muzza into putting me into the public school system. I think this was the most important thing Dad, Mom and Muzza ever did for me during my childhood for a lot of reasons. Most importantly, it would force me to adapt to being different in a positive way. Second, I would have to be social and learn how to ask for help when I needed it.Third, I'd learn much more. I adapted quickly.
I do not remember the first day at school for disabled kids but I do remember my first day in the public school system. This was the first day of first grade. It was a little odd to me; my classmates were staring at me like I was from outer space. I thought it was because I was a new guy. Well, they were all new too. I was just put together different and doing the same things in my own unique way. Things quickly changed for the better. A day or two later I was just another first grader getting to trouble like every body else. I never had a teacher treat me different or special as a student. I was rewarded and punished like all my classmates. Friends came easy to me despite not being the best in gym class or fast on the playground. The teachers were pretty creative with me. I would help referee games of kick ball, keep score and count other’s push ups and sit-ups. There was even after school fun.
As luck would have it I got to hang out after school with the football team during practice since my brother Chase was on the team. The coach would give these motivational speeches and I can still remember the echo off the concrete locker room walls as he talked about enthusiasm and teamwork. Even at that young age we were getting a taste of locker room humor. Farts start to be funny for guys around this time. I had no role on the team other than observer and first string farter. Observing others is one of the coolest things about being handicapped but I’ll get into that later on. Down right normal was how I would describe my early school days. I think my life would be completely different had I stayed in the school for handicapped kids and doubt you would be reading this.
Then in early 1979 everything changed. Mom and Dad decided to buy a town house with Muzza. I liked where I went to school and did not like the idea of having to leave but I loved my grandmother. We moved into a nice large house in a quiet old neighborhood. There were parks close by and with the sidewalks I could go all over the place. Life took a sudden turn for the worse.
Muzza lived with us for just a few short months before she passed away from cancer. There are a few people in the course of our lives that make our days just a little brighter and she was one of those for me. I have loved her as much as Mom and Dad, perhaps even a little more. It took many months for the fact that she was really gone to sink in. No doubt she is a big part of who I am to this day.
Then I started in a new school, Washington Elementary. It was the only school I ever had problems with other students. There were few white kids and I was white and handicapped. I was bullied and picked on pretty much the whole time I was there. I’m not sure how I fell into the role of bully victim but it was misery. I most feared big Tony. He was a big strong kid who could look at me and make my knees shake and then there was Michael. He was this blond dude who for some reason seemed to hate me as well. This is the only school I can say I truly had no friends. Each day was misery. Like most bullied kids, I kept my problems to myself muddling through as best I could. Remember big Tony, we will see him again. Things change. I was there for one long miserable school year. Mom and Dad must have picked up on something being wrong because the next year they sent me to private school er, private schools.
But before I get into the series of private schools, let me pause a moment or two to talk about bullying. It can happen to anyone handicapped or not. Being new and handicapped (different) increased the risk of me being bullied. Don’t do what I did, which was nothing. I base my thoughts on first hand experience and studying conflict resolution for three years.
1. Do not meet physical violence (or the threat of it) in kind. This most often will only escalate the situation and make it worse. This is what they crave most. Whenever possible, simply walk away.
2. Make friends to hang around with. Help classmates with assignments, find activities to participate in and be open to others. Bullies seek out the friendless.
3. Tell a trusted adult what’s going on and if they do nothing find another.
4. Deflect and deflate the bully’s aggression with humor. We all suffer in one way or another, even bullies.
There are many resources out there for resolving such problems. But none can help you if you do not reach out. Parents, stay involved with kids. There’s no need to be a micro-manager but I feel it is important to know who your kid’s friends are, how their school days are going and what they are in to; music, athletics, art etc. If there is a change for the worse, address it. Let them know you will be there no matter what and no problem is to big or to grave to be over come.
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