Labelled disabled

THE special students in the region’s schools were invited to a Christmas celebration. All the charitable and community groups contributed to make it a memorable event for the children.

I was labelled as a special student. Along with one other student from my school. Her name was Jess and yet out of everyone my age at school she was the one I least spoke to. Even when we caught the bus together from the same stop to the Christmas celebration 50 minutes away we barely spoke a few words.

At first the invitation to the Christmas party didn’t damage my pride. But when I saw my autistic foster brother James there among a stuffy room of handicapped school children in the same room chomping fast food with mouths open and laughing at all the lines of the live Raggedy Ann performance, I knew what I’ve been classed as.

It hurt.

These kids make me feel guilty, I thought. They are weird.

And I so much did not want to be classed among them.

I wanted to be normal.

Wonka meme

My social worker the big, fat hairy man met me at the event. It made the time bearable. I could have a regular conversation with someone. We played soccer with a group of other workers and kids. Then I was able to choose one Christmas present from a pile.

I picked my first ever remote control car. It took 12 batteries to work, and those did not last long, but I arrived home fairly pleased with myself.

 

One thought on “Labelled disabled

  1. You weren’t a tool. You, like many others, knew that labels carry stereotypes and fear and prejudice. No one wants to feel prejudiced against. The difference is you’ve since learned that you’re in a position to not perpetuate those ideas by not having them yourself.
    p.s. – I’m making progress in getting caught up lol. I’ll leave it for today but thank you for sharing these stories! I’m sorry life has been tough but I hope you’ve gained so much from your experiences and I have to say, I now have a better understanding of why you picked “The Monkey King” bit. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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