Elementary wat... Jonathan

This is a continuation of the brief-ish account of my life and the role my disability plays in it. Praise the Lord!

Many of my earliest childhood memories took place in physical and occupational therapy. Apparently i conducted myself in such a way that gave everyone the sense, i was fighting to get out of this body. I remember that, i had all the fire in the world to beat this thing, to be free from it.

I don't remember noticing i was any different from any of my esteemed colleagues in preschool, i sure did in kindergarten though. I learned differences could be overlooked and i did whatever i could to help kids overlook my differentness. I did pretty good all the up to third grade, then i learned of a depth of rejection that still haunts me to this day.

I was in a regular third grade classroom and i was the only obviously different kid in there. When i used the bathroom i had to use the bathroom inside the special needs room. The mentally handicapped kids that resided there moved and sounded alarmingly like i did. One day my peers saw the likeness as i came out and decided to let me know about it. In unison they encircled me chanting, "RETARD, RETARD, RETARD" until broken up by some horrified teacher. 

I saw people differently after that day. That chant came from fear, it came from oppressive spirit in us, and it came from ignorance. I'm sure peer pressure fits some where in there. This hurt way more than the disability ever did, so my fight against physical limitations shifted to social realm. God allowed most of those chanters to become some of my best childhood friends. Praise the Lord!

To be continued.


  1. Keep going, Jonathan. Tell us the whole thing.

    The wounds are real, and deep.

    It's good to share them.



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