Kloey was treated differently because of her diagnosis. Someone saw her as a problem, almost like a bug to be squashed, not as an innocent and loving soul. And I wasn't fully prepared for it. She is my baby and the love I have for her far exceeds anything that I've ever felt before. It outweighs any fear, it dissolves any apprehension, and it overflows in my heart every minute of every single day. When I look at Kloey I see who she is and who she has helped me to become. But when these people saw Kloey they saw something defective. And that hurt me.
Here's the story:
We signed Klo up for dance class. She is walking this year so we finally could. She loves to dance, twirl, leap, whatever it is. And she LOVES music. We thought this would be a great opportunity for her to be involved in something outside of physical therapy, occupational therapy, speech therapy, and the very necessary pre-school (yeah, the girl is busy). This would be something fun. This would allow her to do something that she loves.
We got her all dressed up in her leotard and tutu and headed out. We actually forgot to take a picture which I'm grateful for. As soon as we got there and the dance teachers saw Kloey we felt the atmosphere change drastically. Now, I had told them that she has Down syndrome, I wasn't blind siding them at all. We thought that maybe it was just initial apprehension and that we should go ahead and try anyway. We didn't have an opportunity to talk to them about expectations or anything as class had already started. But, in my mind, this was a class for 3 and 4 year olds, there wasn't going to be a lot of structure anyway. I was wrong.
Kloey was THRILLED to be there. She loved shaking her hips in the big mirrors that lined the walls and she followed one of the instructors around trying to do exactly what she did. I thought it was adorable. They thought otherwise. They started to get frustrated with her after only about 5 minutes. They were visibly angry and upset that she was running up to the mirror. They kept letting kids cut in front of her in line but when she tried to get in line (she doesn't understand taking turns) they would put her in the back of the line. Over and over again they did this.
I decided to go in and see if I could maybe help them to loosen up. The instructor practically threw her at me and said with a nasty look on her face, "I just don't know how to approach this". Okay, now I was pissed. She was doing NOTHING that a typical child wouldn't do. She was there to have fun. They saw her diagnosis and dismissed all possibilities that she could ever be in a "normal" dance class. They set her up for failure.
I may sound dramatic but just know that my husband saw all of this as well. He agrees with the actuality of the events above. And to know Jordan is to know that he is the least dramatic person, and a very non-confrontational one at that. We were so upset.
She would put her hand on some of the girls' shoulders and say "hi". They would look back at her as if she was something so low that they could never be bothered to utter a simple "hello".WHAT are their parents teaching them??? As soon as the other kids started looking at her like they wanted to get rid of her and her differences we decided it was time to leave. I could barely hold in the tears. She loved dancing so much, she loved being around kids and just having fun! She cried the whole way to the car and for 10 minutes afterwards.
We took her to the McDonald's playplace and spoiled her for a good hour. She felt better. We didn't.
I got a refund from that studio and she lost the opportunity to know and love a beautiful and tender soul. She missed an amazing opportunity to learn and grow through accepting someone who was a little bit different than what she was used to.
Shame on her. And shame on her parents for not teaching her how to treat those with differences. And thank you to her, for throwing me into the realm of reality and helping me to realize that I am indeed strong enough to endure it.
(We are trying another studio next Tuesday. We've met the instructor and she seems amazing)
My name is Stephanie. Welcome to my blog! A blog that keeps up with my life as a stay at home mother to two beautiful little girls. My youngest daughter, Kloey, has Down Syndrome. As this is something that is pretty big in my life, I like to write about it. All children are a blessing. Plain and simple. This blog is here to show just that. Much love. And happy reading.
1 comment:
It breaks, literally breaks, my heart to read this. And yet, at the same time it gives me such a perspective I hadn’t considered before. It really speaks volumes to what your attitude can do to you and those around you. Consider the instructors, immediate negative attention and frustration towards Kloey, then notice how quickly the frustration and negativity spread to the students. It also screams to me peer pressure. How crazy that a simple emotion, a simple behavior, can escalate so quickly to destroy a potentially positive activity. This to me is now a lesson unto all that are reading to watch yourself. Watch how you project your feelings and thoughts towards others. Re-evaluate how you approach things, including other people who are different. Imagine how different this situation would have been had the instructors accepted her and tried to include her. The children would see and understand that this person is acceptable and that they could interact with her. Also, a lesson unto all parents, to teach your child the importance of diversity. I can guarantee that you will not go through life without seeing diversity at least once. It’s a prime opportunity to teach your child the importance of understanding the difference and reacting appropriately. I’m not suggesting we all “kum-ba-ya” and hug one another, rather, I’m suggesting that we do not discriminate the differences of one another. Instead of reacting negative try to react positive. Again, not saying you must branch out and be all lovey-dovey to the world, but do not react with disgust and frustration. A lesson for all to learn and then to do. It goes back to the simplest lesson when growing up, “Treat others how you would want to be treated.” Enough said.
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