It was the end of the school day and I was waiting outside the gate of the school for the bell to ring. As I approached the back gate of the school, I noticed my daughter, Macyn, was on the field with her class playing dodgeball. I smiled as I watched her run from colorful rubber balls and when the class would slow down just a tad to hand her a ball making sure she had a chance to participate in the game my heart exploded with joy. I found myself laughing out loud at her meager attempt to throw the ball at the opposing side to try to get her opponent out. Let’s just say, Avis’s are more artists than athletes. As I watched the game go down the yard-duty at the gate who was also watching leaned towards me and said, “She does a good job playing dodgeball.” her tone sounding surprised, “and the class is so good at including her in the game.”
“Of course she does a great job playing dodgeball with her class.” I snapped back, holding my tongue as I was not in the mode to have to educate this educator on the fact that her seemingly innocent comment had made a helpless victim out of my daughter and heros out of the rest of the class.
Let me interrupt this story with a few important pieces of information before we move on: my daughter has Down syndrome; she’s in 5th grade; and she is fully included in her general education 5th grade classroom.
Back to our yard-duty friend and why her comments were so harmful:
First: she would not have made those comments to any of the other parents who have kids in my daughter’s class. For all of the other kids in the class the assumption and expectation is that they will participate in a game of dodgeball with their classmates. To assume this of a typical peer but not of a student with Down syndrome is to assume less of the student with Down syndrome.
Second: she was implying that kids who were so good at including a person with Down syndrome were somehow the heroes.
Here is a fact we can tattoo on our bodies: being kind to another human does not make you a hero, it makes you a human.
This yard-duty is a kind, loving, caring person (who does not get paid enough for what she does). But what this yard-duty represents is the idea that it is something special and admirable for a person with Down syndrome to participate in a game of dodgeball, or in life for that matter, with her neuro-typical peers. I found myself being snappy with this well-meaning yard-duty because this kind of thinking is what continues to divide and segregate people like my daughter.
What the yard-duty didn’t know was happening is that not only was my daughter fully included in her 5th grade classroom but she had also found a place to belong.
There is a difference you see.
Inclusion is important but belonging is the goal.
Inclusion is a foundation on which belonging can begin to grow. An inclusive mindset paired with inclusive practices leads to the ultimate goal which is belonging.
Let’s look at it this way:
Inclusion says:
You can come into our space.
We will adjust the space to make it work for you.
We will support your learning and differences in our space.
You’re Welcome.
Belonging says:
The human in me sees the human in you.
The vulnerability in me see the vulnerability in you.
The need to be loved in me sees the need to be loved in you.
Let’s do this life together.
When my daughter with Down syndrome started 5th grade she entered a classroom that had intentionally made accommodations and modifications so she could have access to her curriculum and peers, this is inclusion. But what’s happened over the months was the access and opportunities in place created a space where friendships could be formed and misunderstandings understood and the scary unknown became known erasing the fear. When our daughter played dodgeball with her peers that day, she did so as someone who belonged.
The need for belonging is universal. It is not based off of ability, looks, socioeconomics, status, gender or ethnicity. Belonging is woven into the fabric of humanity. EVERYONE desires a place to belong.
So going back to our yard-duty friend and the dodgeball game, here is what I should have said (and still can):
“You know what, Macyn is actually terrible at dodgeball! But she plays it with her class not because they are so good about including her but because it is where she belongs. Macyn belongs with her friends playing dodgeball”
In conclusion: My hope and prayer for my kids, myself and all of you is that as we search for that sense of belonging for ourselves we find that along the way we create spaces where everyone can belong.
Because if there is one thing my daughter with Down syndrome has taught me is that Everyone Belongs!