the best time of my life?
i don't want to go back, no thanks
i’m in my second semester of taking classes for teaching certification — which obviously means i have to take classes in education and on libraries in a school setting. my education credits for this semester are in foundations of special education; i joke about having lived through almost everything we’re discussing, but it’s not really a joke. even just reading my textbook, let alone the discussions on zoom, is bringing back memories from my time in school. not to be melodramatic, but most of them are…. not the best.
being mainstreamed into gen ed was obviously the right choice; i’m just as intelligent and academically capable as my peers, that was never in question. the only reason i needed extra support was because i used a walker at school and nobody wanted me falling or getting hurt. thankfully my classroom teachers saw my abilities instead of focusing on what i struggled with. they treated me the same as any of my classmates. i still felt judged on both counts though: i was obviously disabled but i wanted so badly to fit in on a typical level. no matter what i did, it felt like nobody saw how much i was actually a lot like them.
the older i got, the wider the gap between me and almost every one of my peers got. instead of getting more independence, i got smothered by overbearing adults. i felt misunderstood and unheard, like no one was taking me seriously because of course i couldn’t possibly know anything about what was good for me. i didn’t need any help or supervision once i was in class and trying to absorb the lesson — the aide would sit in the back of the room watching me for no reason. it made me uncomfortable, having eyes on me constantly. it drew attention i didn’t want on me and made me hesitant to say or do anything out of turn. i retreated further into myself, mostly to protect myself.
i became someone i didn’t like: scared, unhappy, agitated, virtually silent. at a couple points i was given a chance to say what i wanted, to try to make it make sense to the people helping me… but i couldn’t. i’d been conditioned to be so afraid of being punished for being disobedient and defiant that i froze. i couldn’t find the right words; i kept opening my mouth but they wouldn’t come.
what i really wanted to say was my parents aren’t going to sue anybody. i don’t need to be babysat. i’m not just a Thing to be Handled, a Problem to be Dealt With. i had to wonder if anybody actually considered me as a person. my feelings, my wants. that i was just a kid feeling normal kid feelings, totally separate from my disability. i wasn’t trying to cause problems for the sake of causing problems. but all they seemed to care about was damage control for damage that didn’t happen.
the few times i did stand up for myself, things played out very differently. i don’t think i’d been in 7th grade for more than a couple months when my aide (or para, whichever you prefer) stopped my physical therapist after my session to talk. i don’t think it’s just physical, i think she has something mental going on too. i was standing close enough to hear, and it made my blood run cold. it took a ton of effort not to cry for the rest of the day. i went home and told my parents, because of course i did; even as a 12 year old i was tired of dealing with ableist people assuming i’m something i’m not. by the end of that week, i was told that aide wouldn’t be coming back to school.
by senior year i was fed up and ready to move on. i thought it was too late for anything to change — i was 17 years old still being treated like a little kid who was being treated like they couldn’t be trusted. i was forced to leave my last class 10 minutes early, which usually meant disrupting my focus and pulling me out before the lesson was over. it annoyed me, not least of all because it put even more attention on me. after a while i couldn’t take it anymore and i snapped: i got up, threw my coat on, and ignored my aide to go as fast as my walker would let me out of the room and out of the building. she threatened to send me to the dean on a behavior referral (which never happened).
i was allowed to go to my last IEP meeting, and it was awful. when you have a case in special ed and/or with the school social worker, they don’t only keep an eye on your academics; apparently i was “falling behind my peers” socially and emotionally. it hit me like a sucker punch, i started crying and couldn’t stop. i couldn’t bring myself to say why do you think i’m behind? i’m “falling behind” because i’ve never been allowed to do the same things!! it didn’t just come out of nowhere!! so i had to lie and say it was because i was embarrassed by some of my grades.
nobody really thought much about transition, about having the skills to be independent. i was going to college, but that was about all anybody cared to focus on. anything after that was too far away to take seriously. i don’t think my family was ready to face it. i was sheltered, i didn’t know how to advocate for myself. i’ll never forget how bad it all made me feel about myself, especially since i knew i believed in myself more than they did.
i know it’s been over 10 years, but there’s still a part of me that feels cheated. i think my younger self is still in there somewhere, which is why i feel so hellbent on making sure i don’t put myself in that kind of position again. i want to get far away from that, i want to make sure change happens. it’s scary, i feel like i have no idea what i’m doing, but i’ve worked so hard for so long that getting to see my aspirations actually come to fruition is that much more meaningful.
i definitely prefer being a grownup, all things considered.