As the school year progressed, I was able to visit in the home of each student. It is a practice I have continued every year that I teach special education. As I went into the different homes, I found basically the same circumstances I had found in Rich’s home…parents doing the best they could with the hand they had been dealt. Although I did not find any other circumstances of abuse, I did find it very difficult to sit through some of the home visits due to the filth, cockroaches, and smells present. It was interesting for me to note the circumstances in each home and observe parental interaction with each of my students. It opened my mind and eyes to where so many of the behaviors I dealt with each day originated in the first place.
Two of my students, however, Darryl and Deena came from more affluent homes and it was delightful to sit and talk to these parents who were trying so hard to give their child what they needed to succeed. One thing I learned on these visits was that if the home environment could not explain some of the more bizarre behaviors, the physical challenges could.
To look at Deena, one would think she had a miserable homelife. She was unhappy 80% of the time. Upon visiting with her mother in a beautiful and clean home, I learned most of Deena’s unhappiness extended from severe bowel pain from constipation. This could only be somewhat relieved by a daily suppository. As I watched this mother interact with her only child, my mind traveled to my own infertility issues.
Michael and I had been trying to have children for a year and had just suffered through a heartbreaking miscarriage when I was 12 weeks pregnant. As I looked at Deena and her parents, I asked myself—would I be happy if the one child God gave me had severe disabilities? It was a heart-wrenching question to think about. Deena would never tell her mom about her day at school. She would never need a prom dress. She would never ask her mom about stories from her childhood. She would never say, ‘I love you, mom.’ As I thought about all the things Deena would never do, I had the sense that I had stumbled upon a real ministry. I could be with these wonderful kids all day long and try to meet their educational needs, which was what I was trying to do. BUT, there was an additional population that needed my heart and ear—the parents.
As the school year progressed, I felt God was using me to make a difference in the lives of these students who had special needs. But at regular intervals I would step back and realize it was these students who were making a difference in MY life. What a privilege it was to be in my young adult years and learning from such wonderful beings!
One of the passions I found in myself that year was the need to educate others on how important educational programming was for these kids. Armed with parental permission, I took pictures of the kids participating in our educational activities, put together a narrated slideshow (old fashioned power point) and begged groups to let me present it. I presented to any group that would listen (less than 10). But, I felt if I could present the loving side of our kids and help the general population understand them even a little bit, then maybe I had accomplished a good thing for these, my angels.
I think back to my attitude when I first looked at the goals of my students thinking, “wow, we can have these done in no time!” The road from that moment to the end of my slideshow was a long, adventurous road. But ultimately, as I flipped through the pictures of these students who had become my own kids, I always teared up at the last words of my presentation, “I know I was hired to teach these kids, but something got switched around and they have been teaching me instead. What a difference they have made in my life!” I would flip through each picture again as we all sat and listened to B.J. Thomas sing, “What a difference you’ve made in my life…you’re my sunshine day and night. What a difference you’ve made in my life!”
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