Dedicated to Ethel Rothenberg and Barbara Sirois

Growing up in Elementary School was challenging, in a Public School, PS 213.

Being a Special Needs person, in the midst of an era where special services was just being learned and approved. 

It was called the Committee on the Handicapped.  Not everyone saw the vision; and, not everyone was for the vision they saw. 

They did not belong in public schools, they said.  Integration in a public school environment, huh?  From segregation to mainstreaming, that was the challenge. 

“They can learn”, she said 

“They deserve a change”, she proclaimed.

All they need is a little extra services; the teachers did not understand, were indifferent, or, more specifically, ADAMANTLY OPPOSED.  I do not want those kids with my kids (parents said).  THEY MIGHT BECOME ONE OF THEM. 

Kids that slobbered, although intelligent.  Slurred speech but with a sharp mind. 

Can add subtract and divide, but cannot hold a pencil right. 

“Teach them”, she said.  She fought so hard against her fellow teachers.

Those educators whom did not want them there.  No extra tax dollars to spend; but you can spend it on a government welfare checks to keep them uneducated and unproductive.  Let us continue to warehouse them.

We learned, we socialized in a limited capacity.

I was scared of them more-so than them of me, I believe.  We were exposed to them every once in a while in integrated classes.  I panicked and longed for them to leave. 

They were the aliens invading our rooms.  We did not know what to do, but made it through the 45 minute intervals. 

We learned and were in the classroom only because of people like Ethel Rothenberg. 

I learned and made it through because of People like Barbara Sirois.

In college to get my degree.  I did not need to explain anything to her.  She knew it took me a little longer to get to the computer labs, to the library.  She knew I needed a little extra time.  She knew of those little helpful things that helped me get my masters. 

Did I need to go to the bathroom?  Yes, she knew.  A wheelchair accessible bathroom.  Did I need first pick on my classes, so that I could have them in the same building and not run across campus in 10 minutes from one class to another, SHE KNEW.  SHE HELPED.  SHE MADE MY COLLEGE DEGREE POSSIBLE.  She was Barbara Sirois. 

Dedicated thanks to Barbara and Ethel. 

And now I face the same hurdles and barriers for my child.  He is awesome in sports and loves the outdoors.  Intelligent he is.  Helpful and awesome. 

They say he is just a little behind others.  At the same IQ level.  But, it takes him a little more effort not much. 

Give him a little help is all I asked for, even the playing field.  They said no.  They are not the Ethel Rothenberg’s and Barbara Sirois’s.  They are the other.  The non-caring and ADAMANTLY opposed ones. 

I am hoping THEY can live with themselves.  I am hoping for God’s judgment.  

What happens when you cause and contribute to someone failing in their education.  What happens when you contribute to generational illiteracy and dysfunction.  Instead of helping and making presumptions to help and deliver services, you create and erect barriers in education.  You cause and turn people from an opportunity to succeed, but lead them to failure and more emotional loss.  YOU KILL THEIR SPIRIT AND DESIRE.  YOU HURT THEM.  YOU ARE NOT ETHEL OR BARBARA.

They bent over backwards, they knew and helped.

You are the impersonal obstinate administrator.  I will not speak up or make waves.  I love my job.  But all the injured children, are in your school, going without their needs being met.  What if God strips you of your wealth and prestige? What if you die with your wealth and prestige but are held accountable for all the lives you caused to fail and criminals and dysfunctionals you generated by saying no to help.  Will the wealth ease your mind if he sends you below?

My child was injured, he faced divorce.

My child was injured, he was retained in your school.

I objected and advocated. 

You held back and denied and supported the decisions and ac1tions of your superior.  You are an administrator part of the system.  They were rebels, true educators, with a cause, a heart, a compassion, a love for children, a love for people. 

I dedicate this also to the other.  The other Faison’s and Smith’s .  The other IEP teams/members.  God is Good.  He will provide.

I remember the good done to and for me.  THE PURPOSE TO WRITE IS TO REMEMBER.  I remember Barbara, Ethel, Elaine, and the hundreds of others.  God Bless.  The purpose is to remember while I cry for my child.  To write I am commanded.