When Darling Becomes Dangerous

This. This is one of my greatest fears.

Click here to read the news story.

That my non-speaking child will be perceived as a threat and lethal action taken.

I dread the day he ceases to be seen as cute and is perceived as a threat. It's easy enough for me to imagine a slightly different situation with Teddy that looks equally dangerous to people without context. Whether it's a knife, a power tool or any other "weapon," I know Teddy wouldn't process police commands, even if he understood them, quickly enough. I know that his hysterical giggles, especially when he thinks he's being silly, could be mistaken for maniacal laughter. I know he doesn't have the words to explain his actions, and that not responding can be perceived as non-compliance. I know his unsteady gait could be mistaken for alcohol or drug impairment.

I also recognize that I'm not alone in this. So many other mamas fear the same thing. For many, it's because our babies are different than society's norm. (Honestly, we're all different, so what is the norm?) But for others, it's simply the color of their babies' skin.

First Day of First Grade

Today was Teddy's first day of first grade! He was so excited that he was jumping for joy in the parking lot when we dropped him off. He saw quite a few friends, from the grandfather who always sees him after school, to the only para who is returning from his classroom last year to the person from the district who supports his entire classroom to the principal and the office staff.

My smiling first and second grade kiddos. 

Teddy's back in the same classroom as last year with two returning classmates, one brand new full-time classmate and a classmate who'll be there half days. His teacher is brand new to his classroom, one paraprofessional returned from last year and there's a brand new paraprofessional. His teacher was occupied with the new student, so Teddy hopped on a tricycle and was happily riding it when we left and wished his team luck.

As Dave and I walked down the hall, I might have commented that they're in over their heads ... not that I don't think they're capable, but I cannot fathom stepping into a classroom with 4-5 children who have the type of needs that Teddy has. And those adults are outnumbered. There's a reason I wished them luck.

And how did Teddy's day go, you ask? Your guess is as good as mine. He can't tell us anything about how his day went, and I'm going to assume that today was so chaotic that there was no time to jot down a note.

Here's to hoping he had a great first day and that we'll settle into a routine with regular communication with his team, lots of integration into his first grade classroom and therapists who partner with us to support him.

Update: A note came home on day 2 that Teddy had a good first day of school and that he enjoyed gym class with lots of smiles. That kid loves gym class because he gets to be a bit more daring than the rest of the day. He's actually allowed to climb things then.