An open letter to the woman who subbed in my son’s classroom…
Dear Substitute-
You caught me off guard today.
I was running late for a meeting when you stopped me on the sidewalk outside of the school.
When you asked me how Howie was doing, I thought it was just small talk at first.
So I replied with my usual “fine, thank you.” Because it’s true. For the most part.
But then you went on. Sharing that you had been in his classroom several times this year, working as an aide.
I knew that, of course. Small town and all. And we’ve known each other from the neighborhood for a while so I recognized your name as a sub.
“That Howie,” you said. “He really is…um…he really is his own person isn’t he?”
Suddenly it wasn’t small talk anymore for me.
You stopped me cold.
In a split second, a thousand thoughts flew threw my brain. I truly wanted to believe you meant this in a nice way. I really did.
And I wanted to believe that you know about my son’s challenges, especially in the classroom. That before you went in as an aide you were told about his autism and sensory issues and what to expect. I know the school staff would have shared this with you.
But it was the tone of your words that told me this wasn’t a compliment.
I stared at you for a moment.
I wanted to tell you what a hard year this has been for my little boy. That the transition to kindergarten was not an easy one and he never recovered until just last month. I wanted to share how his autism presents itself in the classroom and that sometimes things are just so hard for him that he lashes out at whomever is next to him. I wanted to apologize for anything and everything he might have said or done in your presence. I wanted you to know that he can’t help it. He doesn’t mean it.
And then I wanted to scream at you with a what the hell are you talking about? What are you trying to say? That my son is difficult? Frustrating? Hard to work with? This is my amazing little guy! You don’t know. How could you know? Do you see what he goes through every damn day just to sit in that room? You, with your perfect children, sitting in judgement of my child? How dare you?
I wanted to tell you how proud I am of him for just surviving this year.
But instead
I simply said,
“Yes. He is his own person, isn’t he. I’m pretty proud of that.”
I turned around.
I walked into the school.
You didn’t see the tears well up in my eyes.
But you did see that I held my head up high.
I will continue to teach my sons – all three of them – that it is okay to “be your own person”.
I hope your daughters are their own people too.
However..
Forgive me if I don’t ever stop for small talk with you again.
“Whether I’m right or whether I’m wrong
Whether I find a place in this world or never belong
I gotta be me, I’ve gotta be me
What else can I be but what I am
I want to live, not merely survive
And I won’t give up this dream
Of life that keeps me alive
I gotta be me, I gotta be me
The dream that I see makes me what I am.” – I’ve Gotta Be Me by Sammy Davis, Jr.
June 14, 2012 at 10:10 pm
Well done! It is not easy on so many levels and most people have absolutely no idea.
June 14, 2012 at 10:13 pm
Love this! I have a very unique son as well, and people frequently make comments to me, too. It’s hard not to take offense or read into their meaning when they don’t understand what we go through on a daily basis – the struggle between loving his quirkiness and just wishing he would blend in. I think what really hurts the most is that I never know if they are judging him or making fun of him or if they really do think he’s a positively interesting person. Bravo to you for holding your head high for your son.
June 14, 2012 at 10:22 pm
*Standing ovation*
But I know the hurt.
And I’m so sorry for that pain.
June 14, 2012 at 10:23 pm
You keep that head held high. She has no idea but I do and I love you. Smell my eyeballs.
Jersey
June 15, 2012 at 12:04 am
How dare she go in that direction! Is it wrong to hope that she was the object of his “lashing out” a few times this year? As painful as it is to hear her tone of voice and know where she was heading, I think her choice of words were more about her own fears and insecurities than your son’s behavior. Autism is proof positive that parents can’t fix everything for their kids…Heaven knows we all work our asses off trying. I think it’s hard for some people to accept that children with milder symptoms of autism (who otherwise “seem” typical) could have such struggles. It must be something that the child’s parents are doing wrong–or they have to accept that the control they believe they have as parents is false.
June 15, 2012 at 12:14 am
That’s when it gets you isn’t it? When you least expect it. I’d be sending a copy of this post to your school principal and suggesting that this person may need some professional development in the human interaction department.
June 15, 2012 at 12:29 am
Thank you so much for once again managing to “nail” the experiences so many of us have. It normalizes them and even though I will never meet you, I will feel less alone, knowing someone else understands. I recommend your posts to others and eagerly enjoy them. Your gift has been helpful and encouraging. Thank you for taking your limited time to share your powerful thoughts and experiences.
June 15, 2012 at 12:49 am
Your poise was admirable. I think my feathers would have been too ruffled to muster up such a complete and fitting reply. High-five!
And now a hug, and a shoulder….as I know that feeling…the one where your child is singled out just because he is being he…and someone else just doesn’t take the time to truly *get* him.
June 15, 2012 at 1:00 am
Tears in my eyes reading this – knowing that feeling. I admire your strength and holding your head high. It is the hardest thing to do when you are falling apart inside and knowing your boy is doing the best he can. Kudos for making it through this year – no small thing. Big Hugs….
June 15, 2012 at 1:05 am
You are a class act. I’m so sorry that Howie had to be near this woman, no wonder this last school year was so tough for him. He deserves better. You deserve better. ((Stormtrooper Hugs)).
June 15, 2012 at 2:05 am
You were a lot kinder than a lot of us would have been in this position. More power to you for taking the higher road.
So sorry you had to go through this
June 15, 2012 at 6:53 am
Thank you so much. People judge so fast, alot of times I feel people think that I do not discipline or just don’t care that my youngest doesn’t listen or acts out in class. At times he is in survival mode, or his instincts kick in, or that darn impulsiveness gets to strong. Thank you for making the choice of voicing on line, you are an amazing Mom
June 15, 2012 at 8:32 am
I think you said it perfectly — all of those things in just one little phrase “I’m very proud of him.”
I’m proud of you!
June 15, 2012 at 8:53 am
I’m with you. I’ve stood in those shoes many times. It’s hard to take that high road. I think you did it perfectly. And it is great to get your real feelings out here where we will stand with you 1000%.
June 15, 2012 at 10:09 am
That’s so unfortunate! If she could walk a mile in your shoes or your child’s I am sure she would’ve responded differently! Way to go handling it with such grace. I think I would’ve exploded
June 15, 2012 at 11:12 am
love it
our kiddos are different not less
June 15, 2012 at 4:18 pm
Good job. You should proud of the way you handled it. I understand about not stopping to visit again. Although I would wish the school system gave her information about your child’s diagnosis it’s an even chance they didn’t.