The students had different disabilities. Different personalities too. Our daily cab rides would consist of noisy trips full of stories and laughter, a nice time to bond with friends who could relate to pain and loneliness. We had the same classes and tried to do the same recreational things as so-called "normal" kids. We had arguments but never teased each other about our differences, knowing we were in the same boat and may cause hurt feelings. Plus we didn't want others to judge us on our challenges so why should we do it to each other?
There were certain aspects of grade school which stand out. I had a crush on my second-grade teacher , a pretty redhead, until I found out, in my horror, that she was expecting a baby.
I took part in a few school plays, including a Christmas pageant where I was asked to sing Luckily I had experience with Bobby Rydell and the nuns.
I remember breaking a leg at school, which wasn't unusual. I used a rolling walker back then and I was zooming too fast and crashed into a wall.
I did well in school but hated math, an old annoyance that would haunt me later.
Regarding my classmates, I got used to a kid suddenly not being in class and flowers on the desk the next day, like my friends in the hospital. We would be sad for a while but then life would go on.
During my junior high days teachers came to our house after regular school hours. I was still fracturing in my teens, too fragile to attend school, plus the older school was not accessible.
It was nice having class one hour a day but I missed being with other kids, having friends to share lunch with or do homework or just talk to. I started to become socially isolated, a cocoon I would eventually break out of down the road. I missed being in the special school after so long.
I continued to do well in my lessons, which amazed even myself. I never thought I was that smart, but even through college, I surprised myself.
There was always a misconception that I noticed all my life: someone physically challenged gets a certain label put on them by society. You are either automatically paralyzed or mentally challenged. I never could figure that out. Often able-bodied people would raise their voice to me, like being in a wheelchair meant I was hear of hearing too. I got used to feeling patronized and in time would complain about it. So I was glad that I was doing well in school, showing society that even though my body wasn't perfect my mind was OK
My high school days were spent at home. only now I had an intercom system hooked up from my bedroom to school.
I affectionately became known as "The Box" for three years. Different students would unplug me and carry me from class to class. At times I spent class on the windowsill or even on my own desk. It was great because I could interact with the teachers and students by merely pressing a button. I still missed being there, missing things like proms and football games and partying. My weekends were generally spent with family not with high school friends. I missed not having a girlfriend and doing what I suspected every one else was doing.
A few classmates would stop over the house after school to tutor me ( in math) or do homework together. It was great putting a face to a voice. They were just as curious about me. Who was this kid in the box?
I couldn't see the blackboard, so subjects like Geometry were tough. Most of the teachers were understanding but a few felt awkward with the box and didn't interact much. Maybe some felt annoyed, like it was an extra burden they really didn't need, and in some classes I passed without doing much work at all. Sometimes I had school in my pajamas. Exams were held after school hours. But for the most part it was as close to actually being in class as they could make it.
The one time I did attend school was my graduation on the football field. Here I met so many voices I had become so familiar with over the years. Like everyone else, after graduating, I was left wondering what life had in store for me. At the very least I earned my high school diploma, feeling a sense of achievement and accomplishment as I got a standing ovation from the crowd when I accepted the sheepskin.
I knew I was cut out for more, but what? For now, it was one goal down with so many more to go.
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