The story I'm about to relate is based on actual true events. I've tried to recount the facts as accurately as my brain possibly can, but I'm sure I've twisted some detail here or there. If so, please forgive the errors. I believed that the story was so powerful in a simple way that it must be told. One day, perhaps, I can write the story with a complete ending and full of rich detail.
Many of you know that I am a public elementary school teacher. For the purposes of this story, I'd like to simply say that I teach somewhere in Virginia.
Last week, a young girl appeared in our school office. She was toting three kids: an infant, a toddler, and a 7 year old autistic boy (we learned in the conversation that he had medical issues as well). She was hoping that our school would accept her handicapped son and provide him an education.
The mother spoke no English, nor did any of her children. Her autistic boy spoke no language whatsoever. Luckily, we have a staff member who is fluent in Spanish, and she was able to converse with this mother and begin to learn a little of her story.
She and her husband set out for America after attempts to get help for their autistic child in Mexico repeatedly failed. No one and no school would consider teaching him. Being very young and illiterate themselves, the mother and father struggled to care for their children, but they were torn up over the life that their oldest child had in store.
So with no contacts and no assistance lined up, they left for America with nothing but hope and desire. They stopped first in Texas and tried to find some assistance for their child, but every single place shut them out (sort of reminded me of another story where there was no room for them in the inn). They could find no low income shelter and no school for their child to attend.
So they moved on. The husband was willing to do any work he could find and that work eventually took him to Tennessee where he he works to this day. But Tennessee schools and low income housing would not accept his son or his family. Yet the jobs he had there were too good to just toss away and move on from, so his wife struck out from Tennessee by herself with the kids in tow and found her way to Virginia where by chance she stumbled onto an opening at a low income housing unit in my school's district. The family settled in to the apartment. With the husband gone all week, life was very difficult for the mother. They had no possessions but somehow managed to scavenge a two old mattresses. These were placed on the floor in the living room. The only light they had was from the kitchen ceiling fixture. The rest of the pad was dark at night. They had little or no food.
When the mother came in to our school last week, she was literally at the end of her rope. She was desperate and so very much in need. The children had a lean look about them and they were dirty and scantly clothed. There never was a question about what we were both legally and morally obligated to do. We accepted her son into our school and willingly accepted the formidable challenge of providing the best possible education for him.
When the mother found out that her son would be able to get an education and have a chance at a life, she broke down right there and cried. It was joyous, sad, and pitiful all rolled into one. Her cry went on and on. You couldn't be any kind of human being and witness that scene without becoming overcome with emotion yourself.
Part of the son's education had to begin right away by helping to stabilize the family's home environment. So over the last week, the faculty and many school parents have spent time gathering furniture and supplies for this family, and earlier today I was a part of the crew that delivered the goods. Both of the parents were there, as was the boy (he has been very sick the last few days), his toddler sister, and the infant. Our teacher translator spoke with the mother and gave her some basic instructions on how to mix the formula, how to use this and that appliance. We unloaded the stuff and were sent away with very warm and genuine thank-you's. I'll never forget the cute toddler looking up at me and smiling as I walked out the door or that mother's tears today.
After our Christmas break, we will all set about the daunting task of providing the boy with his education. We've dealt with many challenging special education situations and children in the past, but this case will be the most difficult. It will be the hardest assignment our school has ever taken on. This child has never been in a social situation, has no communicative skills, cannot feed himself, still drinks from a bottle, nor is he in any way toilet trained. He is a most basic blank slate. We know that in all likelihood, our SOL (Standards of Learning) AYP (Adequete Yearly Progress) and NCLB (No Child Left Behind-AKA The Elementary and Secondary Education Act) numbers will take a hit down the road because of this child. That was the primary reason the other states would not touch this kid. But none of us really care about that. Really all that matters is that we do our best to help every child we can, every child that's in our school district...no matter what.
I've heard some around the community bemoaning the fact that here we are helping this one kid from another country when there are so many in need in this country. I suppose that's true enough, but in helping this one child that means that there is one less child in this world in need. Those same bemoaners were heard to say, "Oh now you've gone and done it. Next thing you know there will be thirty kids from Mexico on your school doorstep. What are you going to do then?" I honestly don't know. I do know that we won't turn them away, and we will try to help them in any way we can. That seems like what we're supposed to do as humans.
Many of you know that I am a public elementary school teacher. For the purposes of this story, I'd like to simply say that I teach somewhere in Virginia.
Last week, a young girl appeared in our school office. She was toting three kids: an infant, a toddler, and a 7 year old autistic boy (we learned in the conversation that he had medical issues as well). She was hoping that our school would accept her handicapped son and provide him an education.
The mother spoke no English, nor did any of her children. Her autistic boy spoke no language whatsoever. Luckily, we have a staff member who is fluent in Spanish, and she was able to converse with this mother and begin to learn a little of her story.
She and her husband set out for America after attempts to get help for their autistic child in Mexico repeatedly failed. No one and no school would consider teaching him. Being very young and illiterate themselves, the mother and father struggled to care for their children, but they were torn up over the life that their oldest child had in store.
So with no contacts and no assistance lined up, they left for America with nothing but hope and desire. They stopped first in Texas and tried to find some assistance for their child, but every single place shut them out (sort of reminded me of another story where there was no room for them in the inn). They could find no low income shelter and no school for their child to attend.
So they moved on. The husband was willing to do any work he could find and that work eventually took him to Tennessee where he he works to this day. But Tennessee schools and low income housing would not accept his son or his family. Yet the jobs he had there were too good to just toss away and move on from, so his wife struck out from Tennessee by herself with the kids in tow and found her way to Virginia where by chance she stumbled onto an opening at a low income housing unit in my school's district. The family settled in to the apartment. With the husband gone all week, life was very difficult for the mother. They had no possessions but somehow managed to scavenge a two old mattresses. These were placed on the floor in the living room. The only light they had was from the kitchen ceiling fixture. The rest of the pad was dark at night. They had little or no food.
When the mother came in to our school last week, she was literally at the end of her rope. She was desperate and so very much in need. The children had a lean look about them and they were dirty and scantly clothed. There never was a question about what we were both legally and morally obligated to do. We accepted her son into our school and willingly accepted the formidable challenge of providing the best possible education for him.
When the mother found out that her son would be able to get an education and have a chance at a life, she broke down right there and cried. It was joyous, sad, and pitiful all rolled into one. Her cry went on and on. You couldn't be any kind of human being and witness that scene without becoming overcome with emotion yourself.
Part of the son's education had to begin right away by helping to stabilize the family's home environment. So over the last week, the faculty and many school parents have spent time gathering furniture and supplies for this family, and earlier today I was a part of the crew that delivered the goods. Both of the parents were there, as was the boy (he has been very sick the last few days), his toddler sister, and the infant. Our teacher translator spoke with the mother and gave her some basic instructions on how to mix the formula, how to use this and that appliance. We unloaded the stuff and were sent away with very warm and genuine thank-you's. I'll never forget the cute toddler looking up at me and smiling as I walked out the door or that mother's tears today.
After our Christmas break, we will all set about the daunting task of providing the boy with his education. We've dealt with many challenging special education situations and children in the past, but this case will be the most difficult. It will be the hardest assignment our school has ever taken on. This child has never been in a social situation, has no communicative skills, cannot feed himself, still drinks from a bottle, nor is he in any way toilet trained. He is a most basic blank slate. We know that in all likelihood, our SOL (Standards of Learning) AYP (Adequete Yearly Progress) and NCLB (No Child Left Behind-AKA The Elementary and Secondary Education Act) numbers will take a hit down the road because of this child. That was the primary reason the other states would not touch this kid. But none of us really care about that. Really all that matters is that we do our best to help every child we can, every child that's in our school district...no matter what.
I've heard some around the community bemoaning the fact that here we are helping this one kid from another country when there are so many in need in this country. I suppose that's true enough, but in helping this one child that means that there is one less child in this world in need. Those same bemoaners were heard to say, "Oh now you've gone and done it. Next thing you know there will be thirty kids from Mexico on your school doorstep. What are you going to do then?" I honestly don't know. I do know that we won't turn them away, and we will try to help them in any way we can. That seems like what we're supposed to do as humans.
1 comment:
There's no feeling like the one you get when you do the right thing.
Good for you (and your school) for seeing past the barriers and getting down to the real reason we are educators.
You've already helped to make a difference.
Post a Comment