A young man, whom I have been fond of since his birth, did a heroic thing today -- and I am bursting with pride, and sorrow.
He is an older elementary school student. He has an uncle with autism. He went to daycare with a little boy who has Down syndrome. He has a little girl in his grade, and class, at school that he has grown up with who also has Down syndrome. And because he has been a part of our lives since he was born, he knows my son who has Down syndrome. At a very young age, this young man understands what being a human being actually means, and he displays more courage and heart than I see in a lot of adults today.
Today at school, a group of his classmates were preying on two other students in the classroom. The one is the same little girl with Down sydnrome, and the other has some other challenge. These boys were calling these two kids "retards," telling them to call themselves "retarded," trying to get them to do stupid or embarrassing things and more. Yes, these boys thought their actions were funny.
Our hero got angry and told the boys to stop being mean. When the group didn't listen, he got his teacher and told her about the situation. That takes guts. This hasn't been the first time that this hero has had to intervene, but the older he gets, the harder it is. That act alone is brave, but the story doesn't end there.
It is an on-going issue with this group of bullies, the ring-leader in particular. Our hero was so very bothered by this whole thing, that later he and his good friend talked about how they really needed to talk to this group to try to explain why what they were doing is mean and wrong and how it just needs to stop. When our hero and his friend confronted them, the ring-leader got physical, and our hero walked away.
This hero got in his mom's vehicle and broke down...inconsolably upset by the "wrongness" of the entire situation.
How many people -- kids and adults alike -- would have the fire in their gut to do what is right, no matter what? How many people would do whatever they could to make things right for the good of human kind -- even if it means that it could make life uncomfortable for themselves for a while?
This young man is my hero. I think of him and his actions, and my heart almost bursts with pride and gratitude.
At the same time, my eyes well with tears and my heart breaks in a million pieces.
"It is 2013. How in the world can people act like this any more? Are you worried about this?" asks my friend, referring to the fact that I have a son with Down syndrome.
Interesting timing. I have been stressing over this very thing for weeks now, as we plan for our middle child with Down syndrome to begin Kindergarten this fall. I get all sorts of happy opinions on how well he'll do, how ready he'll be, how people just love him and he'll fit right in wherever.
I know all of that is true to a certain extent. But I also live this every day, when those people do not. I hear all the time about challenges in adapting curriculum, integration, bullying. I have experienced the outcasting and bullying as an education reporter in our schools and in doing a lot of school visits for my previous job. I know how wonderful, and how challenging, my son can be. I know how he loves laughter and adoration from his peers, and the lengths he'll go to for a laugh -- and I know just how easily manipulated my son can be in that regard -- how he could so easily be putty in the hands of someone like the bully in my hero story.
So as I listened to my friend tell the story about our hero, I sobbed. By the time it was my turn to talk, I could barely speak.
She asked me if I'm worried about this.
"Yes," I choke. "I am really scared."
I sobbed hard after we hung up, and I shared the story with my husband. I could see the looks of shock, anger, concern...and the tears in his eyes through it all. I cried for another 20 minutes at least.
"Mom, why are your crying?" my 7 year old asked.
"Because sometimes people are dumb and mean, and it makes me really sad," I managed to get out.
"Are you going to tell her the truth?" my husband asked. We both know full well that we need to prepare her for what's ahead. Life with her little brother at school isn't going to be a typical experience, and we know in some cases it will be really hard.
"You probably should, because I can't talk . . ." and the sobbing starts again.
My husband does a very nice job explaining at a kid level with minimal details, and my smart little girl gets it right away. "I won't be mean like that, because I know how it feels."
And here we are, hours later, my head still stuck on it and my heart continues to flip between pride and sadness.
I know that no matter what happens or how things evolve, there always has been -- and always will be -- ignorant, callous, self-serving people in this world. It is unfortunately human nature for a percentage of humans to be this way. I have a child with special needs. It is my job to protect him; to take care of him. The truth is, this issue will never entirely go away for the rest of our lives. I can't always protect my son--even in situations where he may really need it. And unlike my other children, he may not grow to be able to fend for himself either when those callous, ignorant people choose to prey on him. And that scares me, and makes me sad.
I try to continue to think positively about the fact that our young little hero exists -- and that there must be more like him who will also do the right thing when it's our son's turn. I am so grateful for his heart, his bravery -- and his selflessness in this whole situation. I wish there was something I could do to reward him in some way for his efforts. He exemplifies what life as a human is supposed to be.
