I'm trying to pinpoint where exactly on the "life and times of Claire" I should start filling you in on explain why I created this blog. We don't have to dig too deep, probably just to my freshman year of high school, when I decided I wanted to pursue a career in special education. My first semester I had a child development class, which I thought would come naturally to me because I had grown up taking care of my baby cousins. The class itself I don't remember all that much, but I definitely remember the week when we observed a self-contained classroom for students with special needs at my school. Before entering that classroom, I knew that I was never going to become a teacher, (ever), in my life. The combination of my procrastination and anxiety made every homework assignment, test, or paper an absolute battle to complete. Why anyone would want to stay in school as their permanent career was beyond me. My eyes would constantly be glued on the clock, counting down the minutes until the bell rang and I could go home. But the time I spent observing in the classroom was a complete change of pace from what I was used to. I remember the students in the classroom, I remember how they greeted me enthusiastically everyday that I came. They were eager to learn and they were honest learners; unlike a lot of my freshmen peers I encountered during the day, they didn't do or say things to make themselves look cooler to others. They felt genuine. I remember the teachers of that classroom, and how patient and positive they were with the students, even if the students got frustrated or off task. They treated each of the students with respect, and according to their age. I still remember the deep ache I had, wishing that one day I could provide that same respect and warmth to students who showed such an enthusiasm and honesty I wasn't used to seeing.
From then on, my path was more or less set. I started volunteering during my study hours, participating in Best Buddies, and helping out during summer school. I felt a real comfort and pride knowing what I wanted to do. Even though I started out with good intentions, my education, particularly at Loyola University, is constantly reshaping and refining certain notions I have about the field of special education. While in high school I was focused on the students and teachers that I met, my studies this year really helped me to examine an intricate piece of the puzzle that I had not given much thought to: the parents of these students. When I was volunteering in a self-contained classroom for students with severe disabilities, and saw the teachers write notes for the students to bring home to their parents, I briefly imagined what the parents of the students must be like. I remember automatically assuming, oh they must be saints, having go above and beyond to ensure the health and safety of their children. But my thoughts didn't go much beyond that. I didn't think of the path a family must take in coming to terms with a child's disabilities. I didn't comprehend or appreciate how hard it must be for a family to realign all the expectations and dreams they had for their child.
I realized that parents of children with disabilities are ordinary people put in extraordinary circumstances. I believe the deeply complex emotions a family goes through, and the strength that comes from overcoming these challenges, is best illustrated through narratives. Sharing these emotions and challenges will show that a disability does not have to isolating. Books can validate the pain that we all feel, and find a new positive lens to look at life through. I hope to share with you my favorite books that have provided me these new positive perspectives. Though this blog is focused for parents of children with disabilities, I hope everyone can find comfort and joy in these books just as I have :)
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