Dear Lady at the Pool……
A recent and unpleasant experience at the local community pool brings forth new insight and understanding to parenting a child with special needs. Hope for a more inclusive and accepting world is expressed through an unsent letter to a stranger.
Recently my special needs son and I went to the public pool where he was treated less than kindly by a parent and her child. The lack of acceptance, inclusion and kindness was simply astounding. Here is the letter that I wanted to send to the stranger, but wasn’t able to do so.
Dear Lady at the Pool.
I wanted to write down my thoughts and feelings since I could not do it so in front of my precious son.
Today was the last day of summer vacation. The last day for my son to receive a call, an email or a text message inviting him to play. Today was the last day to get together at the beach or pool with a friend. However, today was also the day that no one called, emailed or texted him, just as they haven’t for the past 13 years. Yet another day that he wasn’t accepted, included or part of any friend group.
My son was so eager to see you and your child arrive at the pool, as it had been so empty since so many families are away for the long weekend. Because he was so happy to see you and your child, and because he is so alone so much of the time, he began to wave enthusiastically as you walked by him, hoping for you to simply notice him. You see, it’s really no fun always having to play with your mom. He thought that perhaps you and your child might want to say ‘hello’ or see how long he could swim underwater. You didn’t wave back or respond to him, instead, you hurried by looking afraid.
Please realize that your stares and your looks of disapproval were not only noted, but were felt deeply. I watched you as you watched my son as if he were some sort of circus act. I watched you pull your child away from mine when he tried to make conversation or ask for a ‘high five.’ He meant no harm and only wanted to be friendly in the only way he knows how.
Yes, he walks differently, yes, he talks differently, and yes, he doesn’t act like a typical 13 year old boy. That is because he is not a typical thirteen year old boy, he’s exceptional. This means that the way he experiences the world different from you and me. He splashes because he likes the way it feels, not to get you wet. He yells because he cannot control the volume of his voice, he is not trying to annoy you or be disruptive. He doesn’t quite understand boundaries and personal space yet, and was only trying to show you what he’s just recently learned to do. He was never going to harm you or your child.
I must commend you on your clever plan, it was a complete success. Eventually, my son was silenced and gave up trying to get the attention of you and your child. It took him awhile, but finally he discovered how much you and your child wanted nothing to do with him.
You were never in any danger, nor was your child. You were in a position to be kind, accepting and inclusive. Instead you chose to judge, exclude and reject my child.
Sadly, my child did notice how you treated him, and shrugged it off as just one more person rejecting him. However, even sadder, was the fact that you took that invaluable teachable moment and without saying a word, showed your child how to treat exceptional children.
There is no pain greater than when one of the world’s most innocent of beings is overlooked, rejected and simply ignored. However, I will take a page from my son’s book, one that is more evolved than I could ever hope to be and wish that you or your child never feels the pain that you caused today. In time, perhaps people like you will eventually catch up to where my exceptional son is regarding his moral compass, kindness and compassion for others. My hope is that in time and with enough education, our younger generation will grow to be more inclusive and accepting of special needs children than their predecessors. Until that time, I will ironically have to protect my son from people like you.
Thank you for your time.
Yours,
Disenfranchised Mother
