I love the students that I work with, and I love the job that I have. I get to work with students who live with the struggles of physical, mental, social, psychological and other difficulties. I get to assist them in finding the keys to unlocking their gifts, and finding ways of learning that may be unconventional. I love the job that I get to do!
I believe that all people in a society need to attain the benefits of being in, and being part of, a community. I believe that including all students in a school community provides the students with special needs the ability to interact with others, and it also provides non-special needs students the opportunity to get to know their ‘special’ counterparts, and thereby learning that they may share common bonds, and learning the capacity to look at life from a different life perspective.
What I struggle with is when inclusion is forced (like brussel sprouts on your plate at a Thanksgiving Dinner). There is nothing so pointless to me as a student with verbal comprehension skills at a grade four level, in a grade twelve History class (I realize this is probably a rarity … but I am trying to make an exaggerated point). To me doing that to the student with special needs is an act of torture for them, which rarely gets lived out in a manner that improves how they appear, socially, to their peers.
What I do not struggle with is when inclusion is natural. When the person with special needs and the community they live in gravitate to, and accept each other. Now I know that this does not always happen naturally, and it is imperative that we sometimes ‘create’ natural-looking opportunities for the ‘typical’ and the student with special needs to come together. And that is one of the parts of my job that I love … facilitating opportunities for my students to accept, and be accepted by their community.
I was thinking of a natural inclusion recently, while at a course about autism. I was thinking about times when my life crossed paths with people with special needs.
There was the boy with Downs who was my age, who attended my church. He sang every hymn … by memory. And he was loved by all at that church.
There was this boy in hubby’s youth who probably had autism, and was loved by the entire group. I remember when he had a big crush on a girl in the group, and he sang her name in the multiple-storied cabin we were retreating at. His peers were giggling in the background … and we still giggle together today … and that boy (now a man) laughs along with us.
And the other boy with cerebral palsy who chatted everyone’s ear off, and they listened … and they told him he talked alot, and that was okay.
And the lady at the workplace I took students to, who would sweep the floors while smiling brightly. She was thrilled to be making the staff lunchroom a cleaner place for her co-workers to have their breaks.
Those experiences are the ones that make my heart sing, with the knowledge that the key to their truly being part of the bigger community, has been found. When people with special needs are not just ‘placed’ into situations to ‘be’ included, but when they are included, with little to no recognition of them having special needs. To me, that is an inclusive society.
knowledge and experience that told me that men do not generally favor short hair.
it says, “now Joseph was well-built and handsome, and after a while his master’s wife took notice of Joseph and said, “Come to bed with me!” Joseph was so ‘well-built’ (the Bible’s description, not mine) and handsome that the married wife of the most powerful man in the land wanted him! I am thinking this guy most definitely must have had a six-pack.
As I read the words to the left (over and over), I pondered in my head what I did thank God for yesterday? But, other than food at a meal, I could remember nothing else.
As I opened my account page on my virtual ‘pinboard’, the first new 
addition to my page was the picture to the right. Steve Jobs earthly body has succumbed to deteriorating health and he has died.
… it is all over …
lived. It is like having a written jigsaw puzzle to leave to those left behind.
Our words live forever. Unlike ourselves, our words are immortal. Like the ideal of our children outliving us, our words are still here after we are gone. They are our legacy.
So, what do we leave through the words that we speak? What do our words say about who we are (on the inside), what we think, and what is most important to us? 
What is the message that we leave, after we are gone, through the words of our lips (and the meditation of our heart?)?
embarrassingly large number of those products under our roof). I did not know Steve Jobs. But his words, the words I have been reading and hearing quoted all over the place today have endeared him, as a fellow human being, to me.
You see, hubby and I, we are certainly a study in contrasts. Sometimes I think that the only thing we have in common is our three kids! He likes salty, I like sweet. He likes road trips, I like airplanes. He likes going to sporting events, I like going for a walk. He is a night hawk, I am a morning person.
Memories are funny things. There are some details of the past that we remember, and other details are forgotten forever.
itsawonderfilledlife 