“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.
