My Love Letter To Davis, California

It was 3:50 am, the streets empty and the school dark when I walked Patrick up.

He was carrying his black backpack - full of a lunch, sunscreen, baseball hat, change of clothes, headphones and freedom.

The guy was headed to Disneyland with his senior class.

Graduating in a few days, his senior classmates got the chance to spend two days down in southern California...time at Disneyland plus time at the beach...throw in a dinner at Spaghetti Factory and it was perfection. 

Teacher Scott Bell was there at dawn...along with the school superwoman, Adela, and the director of internships, Susan, and the paraeducator who said YES when asked to support a student who needed it - my son, Patrick - and was willing to attend a field trip that lasted more than 48 hours.

SHOUT OUT to Antwanette!!

There were parents I knew from other parts of my life - also willing to chaperone the adventure.

I walked back to my car in the dark, got into my isolated seat and burst into tears.

How is this possible??

In this moment of independence for Patrick there are so many supporters...

so many willing to find a way...

so many who think nothing of it...

of course, they say.

It's going to be great.

My town, Davis, California, goes like that.

It's a gem of a spot with a creek, double decker buses, a big university and lots of bikes...but like any home...

it isn't the place, it's the people that make it comfy.

I flash back to preschool.

A little co-op preschool that had a tractor in the playground for kids to climb.

We had only been in Davis for a year before Patrick was born and my older daughter, Mary Kate was in the four year old program at Davis Community Church Nursery School - the famous DCCNS.

A co-op means parent participation and when Patrick was born, well, he needed open heart surgery right away at nine weeks old.

I couldn't work at the preschool and felt deep shame about that - so crazy how we hold ourselves to impossible ideals in the middle of a crisis - I couldn't shirk my responsibility!

I wondered if I would have to give up the preschool and find another.

As I was carrying Patrick in his carseat sending Mary Kate off to school, the director of the school, Teacher Betsy,  came up to me.

Inwardly I cringed...could she know that I couldn't work...couldn't hold up my end of the bargain?

She smiled and said words that changed my life:

"When you are considering preschools for Patrick, I hope you will consider us."

Almost 19 years later and still that act of full throttle welcome brings me to tears.

In my world, Patrick was living with almost no choices.

He would be stuck attending whatever school would take him.

He would be unable to participate in regular activities.

He would be limited.

He had Down Syndrome.

Her words took a sledge hammer to the limitations I envisioned.

Her words held an idea that I didn't think existed for Patrick:

CONSIDERATIONS.

I would be considering different options for preschool??

He would have choices??

It was a game changer.

It was also quintessentially Davis.

Davis offers plenty of choices...in all arenas.

Food - Fun - Schools - Life

Why couldn't Patrick have choices?

Patrick DID attend DCCNS as well as the special ed preschool that the school district offered.

He had a blended program and that's pretty much been his entire life.

Our local Catholic school said YES.

Our local Boy Scout troop.

Our local swim team.

Our rec department.

Our art center.

Our city.

Patrick loved singing and dancing and holding the microphone as a little guy.

In third grade we tried a theater class at the art center with the amazing Miss Mindy.

She accepted Patrick, guided the other students and offered opportunities to sing and dance and be part of some of his favorites, including High School Musical and Camp Rock.

Just as he was aging out of Miss Mindy's classes I worried that he was older and possibly more difficult to place...

in that moment came the incredible Dottie.

She wrote her own plays with twists on the classics AND she had an adult son with Down Syndrome.

She understood equity and opportunity and welcomed Patrick into theater during the awkward time of junior high.

As Patrick was moving into high school he was unable to be fully included in high school theater...his one time when he was shut out...and so Acme Theater, a local theater troupe for high schoolers, said YES.

He was included in Camp Shakespeare.

He got a job at our local city pool in the snack bar.

He was fully included in his high school - Da Vinci High School - and able to earn a California high school diploma.

At Da Vinci, Patrick had an internship with Acme Theater.

He made friends, went to dances - where the city provided support (!), created clubs...made his way.

In four days, he graduates from high school.

In this moment of one door closing, another door opens:

Patrick is headed to college.

Patrick has been blessed with a gift beyond measure...a community that believes in him.

He's been taken seriously and given opportunities.

He has been supported without reservation.

He's been enveloped in kindness.

My heart is so full of gratitude and light that I feel like Ironman...with a blinking bright target in the center of my sternum.

How do you thank a town?

How can I possibly express what this town with its big open heart, its sense of let's-figure-it-out, with every person who was willing allowed to transpire for Patrick as he grew up here.

Davis, thank you.

Aquamonsters - Pete and Koren

Miss Mindy

Dottie

Mr. Bell

Mrs. Kirby

Adela

Ms.U

Sarah and Antwanette and Tammy

The entire faculty at Da Vinci High

Mike at Holmes

Father Dan and Mary Kay Bolz

All of the faculty at St. James School, especially Bev.

Teacher Betsy

Teacher Mary

Teacher Ellen

Teacher Lonna

Teacher Patty

And the families at DCCNS and St. James

Acme Theater

Emily Henderson

Hollay Shayegi

Sarah Barnes

Steve Rubin

Ashley Shuell

Robin from First Steps/Early Intervention

Karen Edmiston and Center for Speech Pathology

THANK YOU! 

It is because of your open hearted compassion that Patrick is the person he is.

It's been an incredible ride.

He's off to great places!

All thanks to you.

The Last IEP or How A White Poppy Blooms

                                        

IEPs suck.
There's no other way around it.

I've thought about this a lot...having been through many, many, many.

It feels like we could make them easier on the mama's heart.
We could just stop talking about all of the many ways the student isn't measuring up and start considering the one-of-a-kind, unrepeatable gifts they bring to the class.

Why must we test and test and test...
using measurement tools that have not been created for people with intellectual disabilities at all?

I'm pretty sure I would fail a test in Chinese...it wasn't made for me.

Why do we force kids with Down Syndrome to take tests that weren't made for them and then act surprised when the scores reveal that the test wasn't made for them?

Why do we make educating children so hard?

Why do we sit as a panel of experts judging, critiquing, analyzing...
while the parent waits with dread at the guilty verdict:
We pronounce your child disabled.

Why do we see disability as brokenness?

Why can't we see the rare gift of the individual?



Before Patrick, I would have been bothered by that bold white poppy.
I would have disgustedly thought it should fit in.

Its difference would annoy me.

Today I see that poppy and cheer...or, in this case, stop and take a pic.

You, Go, White Poppy!

How did you become white?
Aren't you your bad self, standing there so bold and defiant.

Best of all, I marvel at the environment.
Somehow, some way, the circumstances were configured so that this white poppy could bloom...alongside the orange ones.

How can we help our classrooms be like that?

What does it take?

It sure doesn't take a panel of poppies sitting around a table pointing out the whiteness...
or should we say "severe lack of orange-ness"...the deficit in orange is noticeable.

Spoiler alert: it's never becoming orange.

And, yet, it is beautiful and capable of being a white poppy perfectly and
needs no panel of experts telling it what to do.

*****

I propose this for the next IEP you must attend:

Ask them to tell you about your white poppy.
Ask them to SEE the beauty in your white poppy.
Ask them to understand that the white poppy is never never turning orange and yet it must live among the orange bounty.

What can they do to ensure the vibrancy and flourishing of the white poppy
among so many orange ones?

Let's just start by valuing the white poppy.

Let's stop trying to make the white poppy anything else.

Let's just notice the beauty...and work to fertilize the soil and water it enough and offer sunlight.

*****

Today, we reached the end of a long long journey.
No more IEPs and panels and tests.

I can hardly believe it.

Patrick's journey through kindergarten to high school is almost complete.
Because Patrick is graduating with a high school diploma,
he will have no transition services
from 18 -21.

Somehow, miraculously, my white poppy has been able to grow/thrive/learn/live with all the
orange poppies.

Yes, there were people who thought that my white poppy didn't belong...
but there were way, way more gardeners who saw his unusual beauty
and created the climate for him to thrive.

I am so grateful to the teachers who said yes.
So grateful for the willing hearts.
So humbled by the gift of educators who found a way to welcome a white poppy
into an orange world.



Today, my 18 year old son with Down Syndrome signed his own damn IEP.

He shared his hopes and dreams - his strengths and his struggles.
He offered his vision for his future to a bunch of adults.
He acknowledged his heroes and dreamed out loud.

I sincerely doubt if I could have done anything close to that when I was 18.

It was a crystal clear moment of courage and clarity.

I was sidelined and in the cheering section...
as it should be.

*****

I can only echo the words that are at the top:
Believe in your child so much the world thinks you're crazy.
Then believe more.

The problem isn't that we dream too big...
I know that much.

Today, I am grateful for the grace of endings, the blessing of beginnings and the power of prayer.
Lord, hold him close.

Cutting the Oxygen Lines

A few weeks ago, Jack graduated from college.

It was surreal.

Unreal.

And really really wonderful.

But time became a shape shifter.

One minute, I was holding an infant, remembering the Christmas carols I would sing to him in his first few weeks on the planet.

I'd see a kindergartener holding a ziplock baggie sheepishly:

the special card acknowledging the lost tooth was in there, but the tooth was AWOL...

possibly swallowed at lunch.

I'd remember a 4th grader frozen for the Saint Museum with a circle sticker on his hand...waiting for the button to be pushed so he could come to life and tell his story.

I could see a hungry teen cooking family favorites.

A big brother rocking out.

A graduate.

Bizarre.

Watching him with his friends, celebrating and trying to freeze time...

trying to squeeze the last few days into a forever place in his heart...

I flashed back to my graduation and the same ambition.

At Jack's graduation ceremony, there were many interesting people making really interesting points...but my favorite was
Mellody Hobson.

She's married to George Lucas of Star Wars fame...but she's pretty amazing in her own way.

I admit I thought it would be a lame gig...filled with stories of her stellar career and talking points.

Nope.
Mellody Hobson rocked it.

She reminded all of us of an explorer/daredevil named Felix Baumgartner -- an Austrian skydiver who holds the world's record for the longest freefall 

and for breaking the speed of sound with just his body. 

Felix used a weather balloon to take him up into the stratosphere.

Getting ready to jump.

Felix went up and up and up -- 24 miles up -- making the highest manned balloon flight.

Then the people guiding him from down below told Felix to disconnect the oxygen lines.

There, so high up, you can see the curvature of the earth, Mellody reminded us.
She told us the world was beautiful in this moment: peaceful and connected.

This is almost exactly how the graduates are on graduation day.

She reminded the graduates that in this moment, things are frozen and beautiful.
Things make sense.
You feel a part of a greater whole.

But, you need to disconnect the oxygen lines in order to make the jump.

When Felix is told this, he is quiet and still.
They repeat the request and still, he thinks about it.

He doesn't want to disconnect quite yet.

We all get it.
It takes guts to make the leap.
It's crazy.
It's radical.
It's life-altering.

Somehow, we all take one last deep breath and find a way to disconnect the oxygen lines...
and jump.

*****

Mellody tells us that for Felix, the first seven seconds are everything they should be:
peaceful
miraculous
stunning

But in second eight, Felix goes into a violently aggressive spin.
In short: he's out of control. 
It's frightening, confusing, upsetting and to be expected.

She tells the audience that 100% of the graduates can plan on having moments just like this.

Felix actually breaks through the sound barrier during this spin.

Felix, like all of us, had within himself the tools to open the parachute -- 
even in the middle of a deadly spin.

When you watch the YouTube video, the crazy spin is barely a mention.
It is edited and highlighted to show the moments of heroism, 
not the moments of
"Oh no! WTF!"

But I'm here to advocate for those WTF moments.

That's where the most learning takes place.
That is the moment where you face your adversity head on and try like hell to open the parachute.

When Felix lands, all is forgotten.
He's a hero...breaking two world-records.
But more importantly, Felix knows he's faced his moment and won.

*****

Last night, Jack brought a pretty small backpack, his passport and his plane reservation to 
San Francisco International Airport, ready to board a plane to Hanoi, Vietnam.

Starting your travel in Vietnam of all places seems like you're asking for 
the death spin right off the bat.

Casually, I ask Jack about this...
his response:
"Yeah, I thought that too but, I'm ready to cut the oxygen lines."

Seems Mellody's words have settled into Jack's heart too.

As we were standing at the check-in counter, Jack was asked to show his passport and visa.
What visa?

He has no visa.

He didn't even know he needed one.

** Sometimes you don't even know what questions to ask.**

This was one of those times.

We sat down discouraged and lost before we'd even begun.
How can we get a visa at 11 o'clock at night?
Do we really have to go to the Vietnamese consulate and wait three days?

Isn't that so 1980's?

Turns out that you can get a visa online and that someone in Vietnam will Live Chat with you and guide you on your way...
they might even help you open your parachute if you let them.

Meandering outside of the international airport, we found a Wallgreens who for some reason was agreeable about taking passport photos near midnight -- more requirements for the must-have visa.

We sprint through the airport.
We run a crazy obstacle course...
and around 12:30 am, China Airlines agrees that Jack does indeed have the needed visa in his email, prints it off for him, issues his boarding pass and tells him to have a very nice flight. :)

He made it past security and onto the plane with time to spare.

He found his way out of the spin.

*****

Around 18 hours later, Jack arrived in Hanoi.
He made it!

Tomorrow, he hopes to connect with friends...and begin the adventure.
Breaking through his own barriers.
Opening his own parachute...and helping others find ways to open theirs.
Noticing the curvature of the earth.
Feeling connected.
Asking new questions that he didn't even know to ask.

He's on his way.
Tonight, I'm grateful for adventure, oxygen, taking the jump and the chance to open our parachutes.

Stay safe, Jack.
Breathe deep.
We love you.

The ABC's of Graduation

Stay cool.

**Jack is graduating and I've been writing several different notes to him as part of a graduation gift. 
This is the third in that series.**
***

Just the other day I was talking to one of my resident teachers.  She's very pregnant, expecting her first baby, and the unmistakeable joy of this was sucking me in like that little whirlpool at the end of a bath.  I just wanted to soak up the anticipation. Wanted to bask in the newness and the miracle of her new baby-to-be.

We were talking board books and of course, 
I had my fair share of favorites to tell her about.  
I was right there. 
Could picture my baby bag stuffed with the board books that shared your baby days.

That moment of your babyhood was so vibrant and so tangible it made me swallow hard.
How can that be so real...and yet, so long ago?

Time is weird.

So, in honor of your board books and the many happy days of ABC books, Dr. Seuss, Captain Underpants, Harry Potter and the rest, I thought I would write you your very own set of ABC's.


Here, my friend, are the ABC's of Graduation...
life after formal school...
otherwise known as "the Real World".

I told you my approach when I was faced with that nervous situation...more school. :)
It worked for me.

But, we both know that more school, although probably in your future, isn't going to happen immediately after graduation so here's a little Real World advice,
using the alphabet.

*****

A-Attitude -- We know this to be a truth but sometimes we blow it off, or try to belittle it, but the truth is: you can get through the most hellish situation with a good attitude. How you frame the difficulty in your mind will be the path through which you surmount it.  If you believe you can't, you won't.  And, life is just so much more pleasant when you are around someone with a good attitude, a can-do-it approach and the ability to make the best of a true crap sandwich.

B-Believe -- You are the captain of your ship. Believe it. Set your course and see it through...but don't forget to stop at an island or two. Believe in yourself.  Believe in the beauty of your dreams. Believe in miracles and magic. Just believe.

C-Curiosity -- Stay curious...learn new things...contemplate the mysteries in our world...you'll never grow old if you stay curious.

D-Dream -- There are so so many paths to take, so many options wide open for you...life is expansive and full of possibilities and the only limits that you have are the ones you put on yourself...dream so big, Jack!

E-Excellence -- Autograph your work with excellence...take care to do the small job with care and the bigger ones will follow the same way.  Every job you complete has your signature...take the time and the care to do your best each time.

F-Family -- Family is everything...your support system, your 9-1-1 emergency crew, your middle of the night, call anytime people...they are always, ALWAYS, always here for you, cheering you on. 

G-Guts -- There is no easy button. So you have to go after things that matter to you and you have to have guts.  No guts, no glory, my friend.

H-Heart -- Live your life with your heart wide open...risk it all for love...hearts heal but the heart that plays it safe will never know just how big and open and full of love our world is...

I- Intuition-- Trust it. Follow it...no questions asked. Trust yourself to know your path...you know best.

J-Joy-- There are pockets of joy to be scooped up every single day -- look for their glitter and sprinkle it around...our world needs more joy.

K-Kindness--There's a famous quote that says: "If you have the choice to be kind or to be right, choose kind." I really wish I had heard that sooner on my path. Choose kind. Every.time. Life is just way too hard for any other choice. Everyone you know is struggling with something...most people play it very very close to the vest and only if you're lucky will they reveal their heart...but the struggles are real and kindness goes a long long way.

L-Laugh -- You know I'm a fan of laughing...in fact, I think it is a very necessary quality for a spouse and said so when I wrote this: marry the guy who makes you laugh  If you can laugh together, you have a very good chance of getting through the hard stuff...and the regular stuff will be a lot more fun too.

M-Magic and Miracles -- For some people, magic goes away around age 12. They've figured out David Copperfield's secrets. They know that the Muppets have someone hiding under there making them move. They are wise to the wily work of adults and they start to think that magic is just a fun story for little kids. I'm not in that crowd. For me, magic (and miracles) are everywhere...in the pink tipped color in an otherwise white rose; in a coffee cake muffin made at the Davis Food Co-op (otherwise known as crack with a crumb topping), in a spider's web, in a moment that holds a brush of skin or a held gaze for a fraction longer than needed that suddenly changes the course of a life.  It's in the crazy coincidence that suddenly makes everything else make sense. It's there. Please notice.

N-Never Take No For An Answer -- Honestly, if you know it's right, if you really know in your heart that this is what needs to happen, just keep pounding on the door, making some noise, keep asking the question and find another way...don't take no for an answer, ever...unless it doesn't matter that much...then, just let it go.

O-Outside the Box-- Actually my preference is no box at all...but often times the world presents you with a puzzle that seems confining and with no solution. Think differently. Try upside down or inside out or under ground.  There is a solution...you just have to get creative and blow the barriers off.

P-Prayer -- There is a tendency to think we know it all...or at the very least Google what we don't know...sometimes we just don't know.  It's confusing. Makes no sense and seems frightening. Finding time for prayer will help. Make time for it...no one needs to know. Just make a space in your day for it...it will help, I promise. 

Q-Quiet -- If you make time for prayer you'll be given the gift of quiet...soak it up.  Our world is a very noisy place and getting noisier.  Find a space to settle down...into the quiet so you can hear the whispers of your heart.

R-Ruh-roh-- That's how Scooby Doo says it...being able to say uh-oh is a very good skill.  We don't have all the answers...very very often, things turn to mush. Things don't make sense and that's okay. When things get confusing, when crap goes down, when life pours a whole crap ton of lemons on you a little ruh-roh might just help. Take a deep breath and just know that the confusion is part of the process and all you can do is acknowledge it.

S-Service to others -- This, right here, is the ground zero of a happy life. Honestly, if you are out of whack...messed up...upside down...get back to serving others.  It will make everything make sense.

T-Thankful heart-- You know how I feel about taking the time to be grateful...at least I hope you do...counting your blessings is real...no joke, no Hallmark card...real life help in seeing just how many blessings you have and trust me, you have a million even on your worst day. Picture your biggest nightmare come true: still, there would be people and moments that are worth thanking. BTW, do not forget the power of an in-real-life thank you note...let someone know, really, how much you appreciate their time or encouragement or their efforts on your behalf.  It will make a world of difference.

U-Unexamined life -- It's not worth living.  You know it. Stop. Pause. Examine. Revisit ideas that you are really invested in...are they still worth your time and energy? Only you will know...but only if you take the time to check in and make sure.

V- Voice -- Spoiler alert: you are the very own you that will ever exist. Ever. It's so crazy and amazing and still we just act so casual about it...100% irreplaceable. Please, please, please know your true, vast, miraculous essence and let your voice be heard. None of the rest of us know what you are thinking, dreaming, hoping, praying, creating unless you share it. It would be a tragedy to never know. Speak up. Share it. The world will be better with your voice being heard.

W-Wonder -- This is part of being curious...every day, literally every day, there are wonders to notice.  Today I saw the world's tiniest red spider. How can it survive? Where does it live? What does it eat? Flecks of dust? Honestly, there is so much to wonder about that it can take your breath away. If you stop wondering...take a mental health day and find your happy place because you've landed in the doldrums.

X- XOXO -- Never think you're too big, too sophisticated, too special for a little xoxo love. Grandma still signs every card with that hug and kiss assortment. We need it.

Y-Yoga Yield -- Sometimes the only answer is to yield...to be soft...to release the hold. If you're ever stuck and you find yourself gripping something tighter, try it. It just might blow your mind.

Z- Zzzzzzz -- When it all gets to be too much, just snuggle up and take a little nap or better yet, hibernate. Sleep really does make everything better. The new day, the fresh start, the second chance is the gift of sleep. I know it's not sexy.  I know it's not what you want to hear, but just head to bed. Your great grandma is right:"Nothing good ever happens after midnight." (I might lengthen that to 1am, but you get the point!)

Brave in September

Remember when I talked about wishing out loud? Well, here goes...Jack is graduating from college in May.  That's right, clearly, I was a child bride, and my oldest is now old enough to be darn close to a college graduate.  

That means that I've been thinking and wondering and pondering about the many, many wonderful gifts of congratulations I could give him.

I got nothing.

And then it came to me...I will give him my words.

For the next ten months, I'm going to write one blog post a month, just to him. And then at the end, in May, I will find a way to publish just those ten posts.  It can't be that hard,right?

How cool would it be to give him an actual book?

So, I'm wishing out loud.

right here.right now.

Physical book to wrap up and hand over.in May.

*****

Dear Jack,

So, do you remember way back in 2011, when things were very very unclear and you were going down to Los Angeles but we weren't sure what that would look like and we weren't sure how that first semester was going to go and it was all confusing and cloudy and funky?

I do.

It was then, at that point, that one day I was walking down B Street with Caroline -- her tiny five year old hand in mine, when we began a conversation about all of the changes going on in her life.

One of her favorite people on the planet was leaving her world -- hint: you -- and she was beginning kindergarten and she was scheduled to go to the dentist for the very first time and that was the one biggie we were talking about.

And she kept walking and sort of mumbled, 

"I don't want to go to the dentist.  I'll be brave in September."

I stopped and was shocked at the beauty of that.

Brave in September.

Her five year old self figured out that human of all traits: 

postpoing the hard stuff.

Yep.  She wanted to avoid.

Avoid.Avoid.Avoid.

I got it.

I really did.

In fact, I was in the aovid-at-all-costs mode right then too.

I didn't want to think about my family changing.

Didn't want to contemplate you being out of my daily life.

Didn't want to deal with my dirty house.

My back-logged work.

All of the many things I'd been avoiding for a long long time.

But when Caroline said that it made me contemplate my avoidance techniques.

I needed a due date.

September.

September became synonymous with pausing the big old freight train of life and checking out what I had shuffled under the rug.

In September I would face it.

Caroline never knew she gave me that gift...but ever since, I've used September as my get-it-done month.  

I've tried to be brave in September.

Maybe it was Patrick who made me brave...

it was his heart surgery that made me want to run for the hills.

I remember nursing him just two days after open heart surgery and looking right in his eyes and saying, 

"You are making me brave, Patrick. I can't believe I'm doing this."

All those Septembers ago I just didn't think I could do it...

but I had no choice.

And I got through it.

As you get older, you tend to put off more and more things.

You don't travel to the places you think about because the time never seems right or you don't have the money or you should be more responsible and use your time or money some other way.

You don't go after the job you think you should...or the education that you need...

or the _____________ . (insert dream here)

You have lots of reasons and most of them are very mature.

Other adults nod and understand because they are putting stuff off too...

or just not dreaming anymore.

So that's where you come in.

I am so proud of you.

Immensely proud of the man you have become.

As far as I can tell, you don't put things off.

You seize the opportunity.

You find a way.

You gut though.

Just like you did in that crazy, awkward, kind-of-in-kind-of-not first semester at college.

I guess I just want to encourage you to always live like that.

Don't let adulthood be the excuse for not trying something.

Don't let "real life" bog you down.

Please, please, please continue to dream and reach and fight back when you get shot down.

Cause it's gonna happen.

Life has a way of wearing you down.

Stop right now.

Listen to your heart.

What are your wild and precious hopes?

List them all.

Even if they seem crazy -- especially if they seem crazy.

Those are usually the best ones.

Promise yourself to be Brave in September and set a due date.

Go for it.

Most of all, know that you can do the hard things...

you can make the miracles happen...

you will find your way.

It doesn't have to be perfect 

or sane

or what I think is right.

It just has to be yours.

Hold it close...use the flint...blow on it...and light that fire.

It's gonna be amazing.

That hero is YOU!

Anything Can Be

Anything can be.

Anything.

Tonight is proof.

5,445 days ago a little baby was born.

He had Down Syndrome...a heart defect and later leukemia.

5,445 days ago I didn't know a thing.

I was biased and prejudiced.

Flattened and broken.

I believed the mustn'ts and the don'ts.

And the universe handed me a child...and his soul whispered to me,

"Anything can be."

I didn't know what to do or how to be.

But my older two kids did.

They knew how to love and they poured it on thick.

They were delighted with this baby filled with shouldn'ts and won'ts.

They knew the secret:

Anything Can Be.

Slowly.

Following the path of love and the glittered steps of preschoolers who knew best, I learned.

I learned that mothering this new baby was the same as mothering those other two...

love, belief, faith, being there....day in and day out.

*****

Recently I read this essay about wishing out loud.

I loved it.

In it, Mitchel encourages you and me to: "Share your wishes freely to anyone who will listen."

I've been doing that for awhile.

Wishing out loud.

LOUD.

Please, please, please let all children learn alongside each other.

LOUD.

Back in 1999, when Patrick was born, honestly, it felt like my wishing flame pilot light had gone out.

I didn't know what to wish for.

I felt alone.

Isolated.

I had no road map...and for someone who used to pour over the giant world atlas, that felt weird.

What does this new world of mine look like?

Who is with me?

Am I as alone as I feel?

*****

5,445 days have gone by.

The baby has gotten bigger, grown stronger, and is sitting on the edge of manhood.

He's reading, writing, passionate, funny, exuberant and his very own self.

Incomparable.

Inexplicable.

Indefinable.

Miraculously irreplaceable.

I could never have known his place that he alone would carve out for himself in this world of ours.

I could never picture his truth.

All I could do was live alongside him and show up each day...learning the lessons meant for me alone.

5,445 lessons...perfectly circular...perfectly balanced.

Tonight it all came together.

Tonight Patrick graduated from 8th grade...from a Catholic school.

He's the first in the diocese to be fully included in the regular classroom,
learning alongside his typical peers,
attending the same school as his big brother and sister.

The first.

In blue cap and gown he walked in holding a lit candle.

Light in the darkness.

Another reminder.

Anything can be.

He strode up to receive his diploma.

He sat back down and listened to the award winners.

Award winners for art, math, science, social studies, PE, literature.
His name wasn't called.
It didn't matter.
The award for most improved in Computer Class came and his name was announced.
He popped up -- eager to be singled out and awarded.
It felt good.
We moved on.

Suddenly, the teacher mentioned a special award.
She spent time explaining the award.
She detailed the recipient.
Describing attitude, effort and perseverance...lessons taught, day in, day out.
Patrick's name was the one on the award.

And like a crazy dream, he leaped up to receive the award
as his classmates cheered.
His classmates stood up.
The audience stood up...
the room transformed into a full standing ovation
I just sat there...
until the energy of the room pulled me up and I turned to my mom and asked,
"Is this real?"

I couldn't take it in.
Couldn't really make sense of it.

Anything can be.

This child of mine -- so broken to the outside world -- was fully seen, fully recognized,
fully accepted on this day, in this moment, at his school.
He was worthy.
He was good enough.
In fact, he was admired and awarded.

And in this moment, in this dream-like world, we were one.
Every single one of us in that big church belonged.
We were valued.
We were loved.

The message was loud and clear.
You, Patrick Foraker, have taught us something.
Something we didn't know until you showed us.

There will always be mustn'ts and can'ts.
Don'ts and wont's.
None of it matters, friend.
Anything can be.

So today I am grateful for this moment of hope and encouragement.
Profoundly grateful to the many, many encouragers who met us on this path.
Grateful to Sarah and Steve and Ashley and the many priests, principals, teachers, aides and staff who found a way to make anything be real.
Grateful for ordinary holiness, sacred acceptance, and this moment right now.

Anything can be.

Dreams come true.
Share your wishes out loud.
Wait.

Watch what happens in a few thousand days.

Happy Graduation, Patrick!

Dear 8th Graders

Dear 8th Graders,

Way back in the fall of 2005, you entered kindergarten and a little experiment was going on.

You had a student in your class with an extra chromosome, otherwise known as Down Syndrome.

No one came out and told you about this student and you just accepted him the way you accepted all of the other children in your class.

He couldn't run as fast as you could.

He couldn't write as well as you could.

He couldn't speak clearly.

And yet, he was part of you.

You figured it out.

You naturally, without any adult intervention, knew that this guy needed some support.  

You let him use a different kind of basket when you played two on two basketball.

You threw the ball a bit differently so that he could catch it more often.

You walked a little slower to be by his side.

You accepted him.

Did you know you had a choice?

Not really...because we tricked you.

We just put him in your kindergarten class --

where kindergarteners just want to have fun.

*****

When Patrick was born, as soon as he was born, the doctor whisked him away, checked him all over and brought him back to us a few hours later with a new label:

 Down Syndrome.

The doctor closed the door.

He put a sign on the door telling others not to visit us.

He didn't even let Jack or Mary Kate come in to see their little brother.

He thought this label would take some getting used to.  

He thought we would be crying and scared.

He wanted us to have time.

He was coming from a good place...trying to be kind...but in truth, he was being cruel.

You know why??

He never went to school alongside someone who had this label.

He was afraid of it.

He didn't understand it.

He thought it was worth grieving.

Patrick did not get a celebration in those first hours of his birth.

No joy.

No laughing and photo-ops.

A whole lot of serious.

Can you imagine?

Probably the one person who is as joy-filled as could be and that was his welcome.

Maybe that's why he celebrates birthdays, all birthdays, in the biggest way possible now.

What was it like when you were born?

Oh, how your family celebrated!

How loved and awaited you were.

*****

So here we are nine years after beginning the experiment.

1,520 days you've been together.

Only 100 left until graduation.

I can't thank you enough for your acceptance.

Your grace.

Your friendship and kindness...

you know why?

Because you weren't nice out of pity or because morally you thought you should or because you were trying to be nice or even because your parents told you to be nice.

You were accepting because you had the chance to get to know someone before you knew his label.

Best of all, Patrick had this chance.

That was our dearest hope for Patrick...

at St. James he could be Jack and Mary Kate's little brother.  

He didn't have to be "Patrick with Down Syndrome".

He got to just be Patrick.

If only you could know how profound that gift is.

Everywhere else, and I mean everywhere else, he is "Patrick with Down Syndrome".

Here, in this little school of 300, he is label-less.

It's grace in the ordinary.every.single.day.

Did you know that Patrick will be the first person with Down Syndrome to graduate from a Catholic school in our entire diocese???

He's the only person I know that has Down Syndrome and is on student council, anywhere.

Do you know that because of your acceptance and the way your class has shown the school and the bigger world how to be as people that you are changing the world?

For the better.

Do you know that still to this day principals and priests at other schools say no when a family that has a child with Down Syndrome asks to go to their parish school??

That craziness still happens.

Why?

Because that principal or that priest didn't go to school alongside of people with disabilities.

They're scared and ignorant.

They don't realize just how normal it is.

Someday you might be a principal.

Or a teacher.

Or a banker.

Or a parent.

I know that your kindness and awareness will be reflected in those jobs.

I can't wait to see what you do with your level of justice and equality and care.

I'm so excited about our future.

Because of you.

(And your parents, of course.)

Let's make the last 100 days the best yet.

Now you know the experiment.

You can tell your side of the story.

Share what you know.

Share your experiences.

Share with the world what equality and social justice looks like and feels like...

wait, it just feels normal....

like how it's supposed to be.

Exactly, my friends.

Never tolerate segregation or separation.

Anywhere.

You know the truth.

Together, we're better.