What Every Teacher Needs to Hear on Valentine's Day


I didn’t get diagnosed with autism until I was 50. I went all through my school years simply as “the weird kid” who never fit in, and no other children wanted anything to do with me.

Valentine’s Day was about three weeks away. My mom was very artistic, and my fifth grade teacher asked her to decorate a big box for the class to put their Valentine cards in it. On February 14, the box would be opened, and all the cards distributed to all the students. My mom got a huge box and covered it with red wrapping paper.  Then she cut out pink and white hearts and carefully placed them all over the box. The final touches were the beautiful delicate lace she’d trimmed and the cut-out slot on top when the cards would be inserted. She brought it to my teacher, who placed the beautiful box right on the corner of the desk. I was extremely proud my mom created it, and all my classmates were very excited to see it.

As the days went on and Valentine’s Day grew closer, the realization began to set in: I knew there would be no cards placed into that box for me. It made me feel sickened inside. A loneliness, a sadness of knowing none of my classmates would give me a card. Making matters worse, my mom had given me a package of Valentine’s cards to write out for my classmates. There were 30 cards in the package, more than enough for my class of 26.

I came up with a scheme to write out all the cards to myself, using different handwriting on each card to make it appear each one was from a different student.  Once I had all the cards written out, I put them in a bag and brought them to my classroom. I arrived extra early before anyone else was there. Cautiously looking around to be sure no one was looking, I took the cards out of the bag and quickly slid them into the opening on top of the box. I was very relieved to get them in there.

Finally, Valentine’s Day arrived. The teacher brought in pretty cupcakes for us all, pink icing with little red hearts sprinkled all over them to be exact! She then asked for two volunteers to help distribute the cards. She opened the box, and the two students began bringing around the cards to everyone. As I sat there and watched, the feeling of rejection grew larger and larger. Oh yes, the cards were piling up on my desk, but they were only the ones I had written out to myself. Once the last card was handed out, there was not one from anyone else. On one hand, I was relieved to have the big pile of cards on my desk so no one would see an empty desk, yet I knew inside what the reality was. I knew I was different and did not fit in, but I couldn’t understand why, nor could I understand why none of my classmates would accept me.

I took all of my cards home to show my mom. She didn’t let on to me that she had figured out what I’d done. It wasn’t until years later when she told me how she’d cried herself to sleep.

My message to all teachers is to have each student write out a card for all students in the class, and check to be sure. No child should ever have to go through that feeling of ultimate rejection. It lasts a lifetime. Whether it’s Valentine’s Day or any other class activity, be sure each student will be involved and feel accepted.

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