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This is my pre-Christmas update—a story I’ve been wanting to
share for a while. One that has touched our family’s heart. We hope it will
touch yours, as well.
Zane’s had many wonderful experiences in his academic life.
He’s had the great fortune of being included in the general education classroom
since preschool. I think this has benefited him tremendously—especially since
he’s so social and such an interpersonal learner.
But this third-grade year has been his best yet. Not enough
can be said about how respectful the school and the students are with Zane. His
elementary school has fostered a culture of acceptance. But it goes much deeper
than that. Zane’s third grade general ed. teacher is beyond phenomenal. She has
created a classroom that includes Zane in every possible way. One of the things
she has put into place is selecting a buddy for Zane—a kiddo who helps him out
during his time in her room.
I’ve seen buddies in action. I used to teach third grade and
have been privy to students helping others in the classroom who need extra
attention. Usually, they are girls who like to play a nurturing roll to fellow
students who have an IEP. It is a beautiful thing. But it doesn’t compare with
Zane’s buddy.
In the interest of privacy, I will call him T. He was not
the first choice to be Zane’s buddy. In fact, I was told he didn’t make the
initial list at all. There were some concerns about him. Again, in the interest
of privacy, I was not told what these concerns were. I’m assuming behavior. But
somehow the teacher believed in T. and thought it would be mutually beneficial
to pair him with Zane. So he became the buddy.
I was invited to the classroom to observe Zane and T.
together. I rolled Zane from his special education classroom to general ed. As
soon as we entered, T. zipped to Zane’s side. I am used to taking the lead with
Zane, so I was stunned to watch this eight-year-old boy in action. He greeted
Zane, fastened the FM system (the microphone for Zane’s hearing aids) to his own clothing, put Zane’s tray in place, rolled him over to the math table where
they were getting ready to play a game, and put a contrasting sheet beneath
Zane’s tray so Zane could see the dice. They sat side by side. Zane reached out
every once in a while to touch T.’s arm.
There were three pairs of students at
the table. Zane and T. were clearly a team. T. always turned to Zane to ask him
what he thought they should do. Then T. helped Zane use his Go Talk
(communication device) to make choices. They won the game.
Zane and T. were not just buddies. They were friends.
When math time was over, I wanted to be helpful in getting
Zane back to his special ed. room. But T. had a system. He knew where to put
the tray, how to undo the brakes, how to get Zane ready to go back. I asked if
there was anything I could do to help. He finally said I could carry Zane’s
tray.
Before I left that day, the teacher told me that T. had made
some bad choices earlier in the week at recess. She spoke to him. T. reflected
and said to his teacher, “What would Zane think of what I did?” He realized Zane wouldn't like his behavior. He was emotional, afraid of losing Zane as a buddy, and sorry for what he did. So not only is
T. helping Zane, but Zane is also helping T.
For a Christmas gift, T. gave Zane a framed photograph of
the two of them buddied up at the Turkey Trot—a Thanksgiving race around the
middle school track. It sits in our kitchen, and I love looking at it from time
to time.
This is our future. This is hope.
Right now, I feel like we’re living in selfish and volatile times.
People are so concerned about their personal rights. I see a lot of adults and
kids who act as though they are owed things, entitled. Many don’t even hold
doors open for others, smile, or even pretend to be friendly. Yet seeing
someone like T. gives me faith in our future. One eight-year-old boy has shown
me the meaning of what it is to be human, to have compassion, to care about
someone other than one’s self. And that gives me hope.
Happy Holidays!
