Like many of you, I'll be packing lunches, pencils, and sunscreen the first week of school. But unlike most of you, I'll also be attending staff meetings, planning a kid-friendly presentation, and helping train a teacher's aid. No, I'm not a teacher or a school employee; I'm a mother of a child with special needs. I will have to help the kids in my daughter's kindergarten class understand her differences. I'll be meeting with the special education teacher, the speech therapist, and the occupational therapist as well as her classroom teacher and the enrichment teacher. Sabrina will have an aide assigned to her that I will have to meet with so she understands how to work with Sabrina. So if you see me pacing the halls, remind me that's it's a beautiful day outside. I may have a bad case of the back-to-school jitters.

I'd like all of us to get to know each other--parents, kids, teachers, and aides. Since my daughter can't tell me who your child is, I have to find other ways of meeting you and your kids. Writing this is one way.

You will likely hear about my child--your kids will come home and tell you about the girl who doesn't talk right. You might feel the urge to tell them to be extra nice to her or not to embarrass her. Those are good intentions, but it's not what she needs. Kids, especially young ones, will notice but not really care. They will wonder why they should pay extra attention to her--is she the teacher's favorite? They won't notice that she has an aide; they'll think she's another class helper and she is--she's there to make sure Sabrina gets the same information and experiences that your child gets.

When I come in and explain about Sabrina, I expect the kids will want to know three things: 1) is it contagious? 2) why can't she talk right? and 3) does she have a dog? Then they'll accept her and move on.

Parents have questions, too, and I hope they'll ask them. They'll want to know: 1) what's wrong with her? 2) will she take away the teacher's time? and 3) will she disturb the other kids? If you have any of these questions- ask me.

Every child has needs. Most of them are not as visible as my daughter's needs. If I had my way, all our kids would get an individualized education. Everyone deserves to be recognized for who they are and taught in a way that works for them.

When you see me nervously waiting for the bell to ring that first day, remember I have the same worries as the other kindergarten parents--will my child make friends, follow the rules, have fun, learn? The only real difference is that it's harder for my child than it is for yours and she needs extra help to do all those things. But she can do them.

Please remember this, my child is not her disability. Sabrina is a little girl, excited about going to school. She likes to paint, to sing, to play dolls, to swing, to camp, to wrestle, and to ride horses. Just like your child. Just because she can't talk well, doesn't mean she has nothing to say. You just have to stop and listen and you'll hear her.

Please treat her with respect and include us in your conversations. I am very happy to answer your questions--including the hard and awkward ones. Before I had a child with special needs, I didn't know what to do, either. I was afraid of offending people. I've learned, though, that most parents are happy to explain their children's needs, especially to classmates--we want a relationship that lasts through the school years. We want to be friends with you and for our children to be friends. It's good for all of us.

I've learned that it's better to ask than to assume. It's better to know than to guess. It's better to connect than to pity. It's better to build a community than it is to build walls.

When you see me on the first day of school, say hello. I may be a bit frazzled but I'll know a lot about the class and the school. I'm happy to answer any questions you may have. Until then, Sabrina and I look forward to meeting you.

Copyright © 2003 Anna Stewart. All rights reserved worldwide.