Melanie TenElshof
Plymouth Christian School
It’s Wednesday morning. I am greeted by the typical morning bustle as I enter school and head to the Special Needs classroom. As usual, I knock on the door, and a small girl engrossed in a puzzle jumps up and runs over to let me in. She peeks through the window at
me and opens the door cautiously.
“Hey, Kenzie!” I say cheerfully, stepping inside.
Kenzie looks at me silently, but her teacher, Miss Bekah, greets me with, “Good morning, Miss Melanie!”
“Good morning!” I reply.
“Say good morning to Miss Melanie, Kenzie,” Miss Bekah prompts.
At the prompting, Kenzie says, “Goh morn-ing,” and grabbing my hand impatiently, suggests, “Color?!”
“Okay, sounds good!” I laugh, and allow myself to be led to a table, where Kenzie pulls out coloring pages. “Which color are you going to make the penguin’s hat?” I ask, pointing to the oversized hat on her paper. Her face turns thoughtful, pondering the important question.
She quickly decides what color she wants, but she pauses, struggling to say the word that she knows goes with it. “Booh,” she says carefully.
“Good choice!” I exclaim. As she bends over her paper with the blue marker, I smile
happily, impressed with her determination to keep taking small steps forward.
Suddenly, a SUV carrying Kenzie’s classmate pulls into a parking space right outside the window, capturing Kenzie’s attention. A look of recognition lights up her face, and joyfully exclaiming “Ah-drew!”, she immediately skips over to the door.
“Kenzie,” reminds Miss Bekah, “Please leave the door closed!” Kenzie dutifully obeys, but peeks out to watch Andrew’s dad get Andrew into his wheelchair. After a seemingly endless wait, the pair enters school. Kenzie obligingly opens the door for them, and we all gather around
Andrew, welcoming him in.
“Bye, Kenzie! Have a good day,” Andrew’s dad says as he leaves, but Kenzie hardly hears him. She continues to exclaim over Andrew happily as she helps push his wheelchair to the middle of the room.
“Good morning, Andrew!” I say, bending over to unbuckle him. This time, I don’t expect words in reply, but I’m glad to see his smile and hear him making happy noises. As soon as I set him on the floor, Kenzie grabs his favorite toys, and the two friends begin playing.
I stand off to the side, watching the scene that I’ve witnessed so many times before. Both students in front of me have significant handicaps and are overshadowed by a risk of life-threatening seizures, but are at different ages and developmental stages. I reflect on their
individual goals and Kenzie’s progress with letters and Andrew’s progress with walking this year. Slowly, however, all this fades to the background and one surprising thought is left: these two beautiful children, who both don’t fit society’s definition of “normal”, accept each other completely.
I drop to my knees and join them on the floor, because these two special kids have something very important to teach me. Andrew loves spending time with anyone willing to play with him, especially Kenzie. Kenzie, in turn, adores Andrew and is completely devoted to him,
though he can’t walk or talk yet. These two friends, who are notably unique from each other, look past these differences as if they do not exist.
Far too often, we as a society, instead of following Andrew and Kenzie’s example, stigmatize, shun, and reject those who are different from us. But in doing so, we are missing out on so much joy, like the happiness Andrew and Kenzie share when together. Following their
example, we must begin to purposefully look beyond conventional standards and begin to simply love everyone as is. Only when we recognize that people with different talents are still equally valuable human beings will we discover the full potential of what can be achieved together.
Andrew and Kenzie are a poignant reminder that we must look deeper than the exterior and learn from those who are different from us. I can help handicapped children learn to walk or spell their name, but they can in turn help me become more open-minded and accepting of
diverse people and ideas. Together, our lives have more meaning; unified, we are greater.
Suddenly, the first hour bell rings, signaling that it is time for me to go to my academic classes. As I leave, however, I know that in this classroom, I have begun to learn the most important lesson, something which I must keep learning today, tomorrow, and always.
