A memory popped up recently and it spoke to my heart as Ian gets ready for a big new phase in his life – middle school. He doesn’t see it the way I see it. He’s ready to rock it, like he does pretty much everything. But me, being older and wiser, I know that a seismic shift is about to happen. I just watched a video from last year when Ian won an award at school for exemplifying JOY and I love how everyone said his name in unison as it was announced. This sweet time in our life of elementary school, when inclusion often happens because everyone is always together, is coming to a close… and that makes me sad for more reasons than typical nostalgia at the passage of time.
We have Ian’s special ed extended planning meeting with his new middle school team coming up soon, to talk all things Ian and middle school. And when I asked Jason the most important concern he has about Ian in middle school, it was the exact same as mine – will he have friends? Will anyone want to sit at lunch with him? Will there be a kid who wants to sit with him because he’s a fun kid who is a great friend? Will there be someone who always makes sure he has a place at the table, who saves him a place at the table? Will there be someone to walk with him as he navigates the busy hallways? Will there be someone who waits with him as he figures out the fast-paced PE locker room? Will there be someone who looks out for him, because that’s what friends do? Will there be a Joey?
I am not worried about accommodations or IEP goals or 6th grade curriculum — I want my kid to have friends. Because THAT is the essence of humanity… connection. I want him to have a life outside of our family. I want him to have someone to text, someone to hang out with after school. I don’t want him to feel different. I don’t want him to be alone. I don’t want him to be lonely. I want him to have a friend. I want him to have a Joey.