My youngest experienced our school district’s wonderful tradition for graduating seniors yesterday. The graduating seniors return to their elementary schools and do a “Senior Walk.” The littles love to see them, and the teachers do as well.
Graduation week is always emotional; it always is. It was touching when my oldest graduated, so I was prepared.
Or so I thought.
I grew up there. I went to elementary school there and practically lived there since my mom taught there for a couple of decades. I knew every nook and cranny of that building since we were forced (along with other teachers’ children) to “find something to do” during the summers when our moms were working on getting ready for the next school year.
This was also the building where we dropped off T.J. less than 24 hours after his diagnosis. This was where we handed T.J. over, and it felt like we had to pretend everything was normal. Yes, many faces have changed, and the building has a fresh coat of paint and a face-lift here and there. However, the flood of emotions was nearly overwhelming.
I watched T.J. spend most of his time in that situation alone, talking to no one. Don’t get me wrong, no one was mean to him, and T.J. is pretty shy. T.J. wasn’t even sad; he was simply T.J. It was hard for me to watch my almost-adult son sitting stoically alone on his mobility scooter (albeit smiling) in the halls of his elementary school alma mater, where I could hear his little childlike laughter still ringing. It simply made me sadder than I was prepared for, in all honesty. I missed my little boy, who was carefree and had lots of friends he could play with every day.
We loved that he got to take pictures with his classmates, though. Staff and teachers were still there when he and his classmates attended Belair. He took pictures with three of his teachers. That nearly brought me to my knees because vivid memories came knocking. I realized how lucky we were on February 9, 2012, the day after diagnosis, to drop off our newly diagnosed son with the staff at Belair Elementary. Most who were there have now moved on, but there were the three there I will never forget. As I took pictures of T.J. in his cap and gown with these three phenomenal educators, I realized there was a bigger picture, and I let the memories flood.
T.J.’s 5th-grade teacher, Mrs. Watson: She is officially retired but was a substitute teacher that day (which I’m sure was no coincidence! She was also our oldest son’s 4th-grade teacher. We simply love her. She is also the teacher who would sing and act crazy with me at any given time. T.J. knew this and dreaded it consistently. The most important thing she has ever done for my family came as someone took T.J. to his class that day.
She happened to go into the office and asked, “So, what was the news?” I replied, “Not good,” and I started to cry. I may or may not have given her details. I don’t remember anything other than the “not good” comment, other than her looking at me and saying through tears, “Okay, he’ll be okay here. We’ve got this. We’ll love him.”
The school secretary, Mrs. Sharon Bruce, nodded resolutely, saying, “Yes. Absolutely. We’ll treat him like our own.” (Fun fact: Mrs. Bruce used to get calls from me throughout high school, college and when I was a first-time mom seeking my mom’s advice. She also walked me through my first experience cooking a turkey. There were no cell phones then, so Sharon was an honorary mom, talking me out of skipping school, covering my mom’s 1st-grade class so I can have a meltdown over my newborn, or laughing at me when I thought I could cook that (frozen!) turkey in a few hours for Craig, who was my fiance at the time.
It was with the reassurance that comes from educators who truly care for your child I was able to leave the building without my son that day.
T.J.’s first-grade teacher, Mrs. Walk: T.J. had Mrs. Walk when he was diagnosed. I remember standing outside of her classroom crying with her. She didn’t have children then but fiercely loved her children in her classroom. She let us come in and talk to the class about T.J. so they weren’t scared, but they knew T.J. would be going to the doctor a lot and seeing changes in him over the next few years. She did everything she could to help us advocate for T.J. A few months after diagnosis, she would become our next-door neighbor, and she and her sweet family remain our neighbors to this day.
In fact, her sweet daughters now play with our dogs, even bringing gifts after one of them had surgery. They also buy special treats for our big lab mix, so she doesn’t have to eat the small treats. I can let my dogs out of the house, and if the girls are outside, we hear them get excited and then love on our dogs.
T.J.’s 3rd-grade teacher, Mrs. Farris: She was also our oldest son, Connor’s 3rd-grade teacher, and the teacher he recognized on his senior soccer Teacher Appreciation night. Mrs. Farris was the one which I wrote a blog post titled “Funneling Fear Into Fortitude” about how when she and T.J.’s support team suggested it was time for him to start using his scooter full time at school and how she helped T.J. transition go smoother because she came in after hours and let him drive around the halls, test out the elevators, navigate the cafeteria, etc. She went above and beyond because she cared, not because it was expected or in a state or federally-mandated document. She did it because one of her “kids” needed a little extra from her, so she gave it.
So, as we close this chapter of T.J.’s life, I will allow myself to “feel all the feels.” Still, I also want to acknowledge my gratitude for the fantastic start these three (and many more not mentioned) provided for T.J. and his brother Connor. As parents to children with disabilities, we get so caught up in “the fight” that we often forget those that quietly set the stage for the small daily victories to be won. We spend so much time and effort facing that one person refusing to stand for our child that while our backs are turned, we forget that our children, day in and day out, have educators and staff caring for them, cheering them on, and praying they succeed.
T.J. has been extremely lucky to have excellent educators over the past 13+ years, including preschool. Sure, we’ve had a few I have not seen eye to eye with, but those have only made me sharpen my advocacy skills and appreciate the good ones all the more. Most educators have proven that they want what’s best for T.J. No, it’s not easy, and I’ve still had to put in the work, but together, we’ve made a great team.
I remember walking the halls of our schools in this small town dreaming of the day I would bust out and move to a bigger city. I still fantasize about that dream occasionally, thinking, “What if?” However, I am beyond happy I came back home after college. The connections with our children’s educators, even new teachers, and staff as the boys got older are priceless.
So from the bottom of our hearts to the outstanding educators and staff at Jefferson City School District, we thank you!
Sara and Craig Clime