Special

[rowyn]

Through most of my school days, I ate my lunch alone. Once, I read that most schoolchildren would rather fail a class than eat lunch alone, and I was utterly bewildered by that notion. It was a habit begun from necessity because I had no friends to eat with. But the truth is, I rather liked eating lunch alone. I'd bring a book and read while I ate. It never occurred to me to feel sorry for myself because I ate lunch alone. Of course, I felt like an outcast during school, but not because I dined by myself. To this day, I'd still rather spend my lunch reading or writing than with someone else.

But since, apparently, all other children regard a solitary meal as keen punishment, I attracted some attention, sitting by myself in desolate corners of the cafeteria. But with my book propped before my lunch tray, I was entirely oblivious to the pity I excited, except on those occasions when someone chose to act on it.

One day in ninth grade, someone chose to act on it.

As I sat at the lunch table, book in hand and tray before me, two girls of about my age sat down across from. One was black and solidly-built, the other thin and white. The black girl introduced herself as Angie and her friend as Michelle. "We saw you eating alone every day and thought you might like some company," Angie told me, quite frankly.

Angie was the outgoing one of the pair, her companion reticent and shy. Angie's the one I really remember. She struck me as bright, savvy, and forthright. Not a "popular" girl, but she had a solid grasp of social mechanics. Much better than my own still-tenuous grip.

The first couple of times, they came to me to eat. Later, they invited me to join their friends. And I learned what social crime they'd been outcast for: they were in special ed classes.

That flabbergasted me. I figured Angie was at least as smart as I was, if not smarter -- hey, she'd figured out how to make friends and I still hadn't gotten that trick -- and I was in honors classes. Why was she in special ed?

"I'm in it because I have dyslexia," she told me, neither worried nor embarrassed. "But you're right, the classes are a real mish-mash of learning disorders. There are about a dozen of us, and some of the kids can't even count change. They really need to teach some basic life skills to some of them, not algebra or history."

One of the special-ed students I'd known for years, because she caught the bus at my stop. She was tall and broad, and I don't know how old she was or how long she'd been going to classes. She barely spoke but often made strange noises, and did not behave as though she had more than a rough, conditioned grasp on what was going on around her.

I can't imagine what it must be like to try to teach a class that included both her and Angie.

I can't imagine what it must've been like to be Angie, trying to learn something in that classroom. Something other than "this system isn't serving any of us very well".

I understand that it was a long fight to get special-education programs into schools, and now a similar battle is going on by advocates – this time to dismantle them and mainstream their students. Thinking of Angie, I have a lot of sympathy for that cause.

I didn't eat lunch with them for very long, though I can't remember now why I stopped. I don't think it was because I was embarrassed by them -- not because such a thing was beyond me, but because I can remember clearly enough other occasions where I did avoid otherwise friendly people because I thought they were "freaks" and I don’t remember doing that here. It might be that the school year ended, and the next year I was at a different building. It might've been that I drifted back to eating lunch by myself because I liked doing so, and because I wasn't sure of my welcome without being repeatedly invited. (Yes indeed, I can see myself thinking that the special-ed students were too popular and well-liked to want to hang out with me.)

But I'm wondering now whatever happened to Angie. But -- maybe in spite of or maybe because of her schooling -- I expect she's doing all right for herself now.

After all, I am.

Comments

[rainbowthespian.livejournal.com]

The idea of separating out special needs kids so that there's a higher chance of their needs actually being met is a great theory.

As a "specials" or "cluster" teacher who often is given a special ed class without having access to IEPs (individual education plan) or any sense of the needs and abilities of the kids, it's sometimes nearly IMPOSSIBLE to meet the varying needs. I have one class with students that range in the way that those kids sounded. Severe downs syndrome all the way to high functioning/emotionally challenged kids.

That's what happened with my brother in law. Severe birth defects and heart problems and troubling upbringing led him to be put in special ed very early on. He gave up on education at some point before he moved in with us.

We enrolled him in Edward R Murrow high school, one of the best in the city. He hated it, and it was a constant struggle to get him to go.

Then we went to "parent teacher conferences" and I saw his classmates. One was strapped to a wheelchair and drooling. One was obviously down syndrome affected.

If you ever met my brother in law, you would wonder what his issues were, but would instantly know what an intelligent, interesting young man he is. It makes me sad to see that we don't have the resources for making sure that the individualization goes FURTHER than "regular" and "special".

[sandratayler.livejournal.com]

I grew up in California where all special ed classes were mainstreamed before I was old enough to be aware. Instead kids who needed extra help had resource classes available to them. Some of my siblings, who struggled with learning disabilities, thrived under this system because they had attentive parents who made sure they got what they needed. Other kids got lost in the shuffle or were thrown into classrooms they were incapable of handling.

I'm in favor of mainstreaming in general, but it isn't best for all cases.

[nkcmike.livejournal.com]

Interesting story. Thanks for telling it.

[detroitfather.livejournal.com]

That is a great story. It brings up a great many issues, for which I have no perfect answers. But I remember the five years I taught in public school, and the two zany Special Ed teachers we had at our school. They were just great. I think they quite possibly may have been the two happiest faculty members in the whole school.

[ladyperegrine.livejournal.com]

I can relate so well to the social part.

[jimmy-hollaman.livejournal.com]

Ahhh special ed. my secound home. For one hour a day i would go to a class and get taught spelling and math. this was in elementry. then in high school i took special education math, history, and english. i found i could do them better than the real stuff. I didn't think any thing of it. i still was being taught the same stuff. besides i had a 115 IQ but when you added math and spelling (115 was with out them) it went to 117 (ok may be a little higher but not by much...) Any ways i was and still am a very smart person. but put me in to certain situations and i am a mess. Writing and reading is a little hard because i have a mild case of dyslexia. (try pricing stuff for a living when you can't read the numbers correctly) and as for math well lets just say a calculator is good to do even simple multipications.....

Lunch and Education

[krud42.livejournal.com]

The way cafeteria tables were set up at my school, it would have been difficult to eat alone (the schools were so crowded we had to eat in shifts, which I'm pretty sure is normal at a lot of schools these days, but seemed weird to me at the time.) Though I was so nerdy that half the time I didn't even bother eating lunch, and just went into the library where I had free reign of the typewriters (pre-computer-processors... well, technically they existed, but they weren't "up for grabs" with special permssion. But I digress.) I used to go in there and just write silly things, articles with titles like "The Current Duck Population", and "People Who Put Gum Under Their Desk". My friends got a kick out of reading them. (Yes, I had some friends, despite the picture I just painted; most of them weren't in my lunch shift, though.)

I probably should have been in a Special Ed class, but I probably would have been bored, too. (I never was, because my test scores were phenomenal... it was just my attention span that sucked. Which reminds me, I should end this before it becomes its own entry. ;P)

[sandramort.livejournal.com]

*hugs* I ate alone most of my life, partly by choice and partly not. I understand.

Not related to this post, I need to talk to you about exercise and measuring yourself. I lost your phone number and email address. If you go to my userinfo page, you can email me, AIM me or call me... get in touch please?