to my son
October 16, 2015 § 6 Comments
I gave up. I’m not sure I’ve ever named my cowardice, it’s far simpler to languish in a prose of possibility, but it’s true. I stopped believing school could be a safe haven for your differences and so I hid behind empty promises and hollow confidence.
Things will get better.
Except, they didn’t.
Each school year I would hold my breath for the first kindness that offered sanctuary for my doubts and then balance my fears on the fragility of a single offering. A kind teacher, a patient administrator, a passionate aide. One person. Every year.
Inevitably something would go wrong; an intolerant teacher, a disconnected policy, an ill-prepared aide. We learned to pretend our way through difficult days with a detachment to our community. Surviving is a poor substitute for thriving.
I built invisible walls to ward off disappointment, but rather than guard my joy they invited bitterness and complacency for an unacceptable status quo. I could no longer open my heart to trust in something better; my faith was frayed with the tension of hope weighted against fear. Until today.
Over the years we’ve worked with remarkable educators, therapists, support staff, and administrators, but we’ve never before partnered with a team of educators so cohesive as a community. One person can make a difference, but I’m learning it takes a village to honor true change.
Things are getting better.
I expect there will be new challenges, life is an imperfect performance of hope, but I’m ready to trust in your newfound sense of belonging and the generousness of our new community; it’s time.
Love, Mom
scribblechic 
This is incredibly moving. Thank you for sharing your despair and your new-found hope.
Despair feels like an undeserving burden, a privileged badge of honor defined by a hardship greater than my frustrations. Let’s just celebrate hope and kindness.
I love that it’s happening for your son. Too few kids who need this get it–maybe your move was the blessing that needed to happen:).
Second chances and do-overs; you’re right, of course, it doesn’t happen often enough for too many children. I wasn’t sure when, or if, it might happen for us. Hopefully this is it, but just in case we make our own luck, I’m not going to rest on my good fortune.
Thank you for your kind encouragements along the way!
Oh, this brought me to tears. I’m so happy for you. My son had a very difficult time academically. He is not out of school, having spent one year in college. I am bitter, still, at the missed opportunities for support that riddled his high school education. He is working now and taking “one year” off of school. I see that his path is very different now and trust that he knows what he is doing. On the other hand, he is recording music he and his bandmates wrote. He is talented, smart, funny and, yes, beautiful. I need to get over myself.
I still ache for missed opportunities, for my son and so many other students. No child should be lost to the margins of their education, academically or socially.
I’m glad your son created a path that honored his passion. Too many adults loose sight of their joy and the fearlessness that enables magic.