“Hey, H.T.,” Kevin said as he greeted me in the parking lot.
Kevin, my mentor and friend, had asked me to speak at the elementary school he worked at. After the elementary school, we would speak to the middle school students, and then I would speak to future clergy who wanted to work with people who have special needs. I was as excited as a kid on Christmas morning. I live for days like these. I get to fulfill God’s purpose for my life.
“So, first we have the kindergartners. We’ll spend about 20 minutes with them,” Kevin said.
I was excited for their earnest questions and comments. I never leave a kindergarten class not been thoroughly entertained. This class did not disappoint.
I ended the speech by saying, “If you see someone who is different, go up and talk to them. We like making new friends. I am so glad to be your friend now, and I would really love to answer any questions you have.”
The questions began.
“Do you have pets?” One little guy asked.
“No.”
“How fast does your wheelchair go?” Another child asked.
“Seven miles per hour,” I responded.
“Do you sleep in your wheelchair?” One kid asked. I get that question every time with kindergarteners.
When the teacher made eye contact with Kevin and asked in a hushed tone when I was diagnosed with my disability, I interjected. I was more than capable of answering that question for myself. I typed out “lost oxygen at birth.” The teacher nodded and asked me not Kevin if we could talk about it. We certainly could!
“So, when I was coming out of my mommy’s tummy, I didn’t have enough oxygen and my brain has an owie on it,” I stated.
“Just take deep breaths,” one child suggested.
I let out a laugh. Oh, how I love kids! And it’s a little too late for that!
My presentation for the middle school students was on bullying. I talked about how I was ignored by most of the kids in middle school and high school. It hurts to this day. I definitely have a lot of scars on my heart from kids viewing me as invisible. Funny how I’m a 32 year old woman who is living her best life and it still hurts.
Then, I had a presentation with future clergy. I told them about different experiences with clergy. Some priests get it right off the bat, some priests take a few months until they really understand that I don’t have a cognitive disability, and some priests never understand. Clergy are merely humans; they are not perfect. Last month, I talked about physical access to a specific church. I relayed that humiliating story to the students too because they need to know how critical accessibility is.
All in all, I had a great day. I live for these days. Nothing fulfills my heart quite like speaking.
