I’m always proud of my daughter no matter what, but what words can you use when she does something you consider so brave that “proud” just doesn’t cut it? I wracked my brain and looked in a thesaurus. I considered using “magnificent,” “dignified,” “impressive,” “glorious” and even “heroic,” but nope, they didn’t come close.
You see, my girl decided to tell her class all about her Asperger’s.
We gave her the option of the teacher doing the presentation. “Nope,” she said. We gave her the option of me doing the presentation. “Nope,” she said, “It’s my Asperger’s. I’m doing it myself.”
So on Friday, I dropped her off at school after the presentation had been emailed to her teacher. I had to wait 30 minutes before going back to the class to support her, and, my goodness me, that was a very long 30 minutes.
How would the class react? Could she cope with the presentation? Would she cry? Would I cry? Would the teacher cry? The time came. I crept into the classroom and sat at the back. My darling girl stood up at the front of the class, and her wonderful teacher (who is akin to Roald Dahl’s Miss Honey) introduced her presentation by saying, “We are all individuals. We are all wonderful. E wants to talk to you about what makes her so special.”
I could tell she was nervous — the hair fiddling and finger clicking gave it away. Her voice trembled slightly, but she did it. The class was silent; their attention rapt. The teacher reiterated certain points, and E held her nerve and spoke clearly with great conviction. My heart swelled with each passing second. And I was determined to not let my tears fall because if she could do it without crying, I could certainly listen without crying.
When the time for questions came, she was on a roll:
“Can you catch it?”
“No, silly, you can’t catch it,” my daughter replied.
“How did you get it?”
“I’ve always had it; we just didn’t know until recently,” she said.
“Will it get worse as you get older?”
“Nah, hopefully I will learn things to help me,” she said.
Standing there in front of a room of her peers must have been terrifying for her. She bared her soul, told them something personal and showed that she was “different.” But she didn’t bat an eye.
Follow this journey on Coloring Outside the Lines.
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