The poems are our artistic representation of what inclusion is. They are written in different perspectives, the are as follows: perspective of a disabled child, perspective of a friend of a disabled child, perspective of a parent, and perspective of a teacher
Special as me
If it mattered to you, you’d let me choose
Now let me make my mind.
Count me in on all your lessons,
Let us share our time.
Up to you it is to teach
Special kids like me.
I can teach you a thing or two,
Only then, that’s when you’ll see
Not every child is as special as me.
Now let me make my mind.
Count me in on all your lessons,
Let us share our time.
Up to you it is to teach
Special kids like me.
I can teach you a thing or two,
Only then, that’s when you’ll see
Not every child is as special as me.
A "normal" student's perspective
Everyday, as the clock hits one, out leaves my best friend,
I don’t understand why she has to go and can’t stay til the days end.
I ask the teacher, “why does she go?”
she acts and pretends like she doesn’t know
I know she knows and she just likes to pretend.
My best friend and I both like the color blue,
found out her favorite class is english, too,
but to get called out, what in the world must I do,
what do they find so special about you?
Maybe it’s just the way that she thinks,
she told me yesterday mass is what makes things sink,
I’m starting to think she’s really on the brink
of genius…..
I see us
being friends for life
shes the best friend I can imagine
and I would never think twice.
It’s happening so often, it’s starting to make me mad
I know when that hand hits one, she’ll leave and I’lI get so sad
What is it that she’s doing wrong? What do I have to do?
Maybe its just cause she’s special..
I wish I was that special too!
I don’t understand why she has to go and can’t stay til the days end.
I ask the teacher, “why does she go?”
she acts and pretends like she doesn’t know
I know she knows and she just likes to pretend.
My best friend and I both like the color blue,
found out her favorite class is english, too,
but to get called out, what in the world must I do,
what do they find so special about you?
Maybe it’s just the way that she thinks,
she told me yesterday mass is what makes things sink,
I’m starting to think she’s really on the brink
of genius…..
I see us
being friends for life
shes the best friend I can imagine
and I would never think twice.
It’s happening so often, it’s starting to make me mad
I know when that hand hits one, she’ll leave and I’lI get so sad
What is it that she’s doing wrong? What do I have to do?
Maybe its just cause she’s special..
I wish I was that special too!
Don't tell me my child's not perfect
Don’t tell me that my child’s not perfect.
You didn’t count his ten fingers and ten toes.
You didn’t hear his strong cries as he drew in his first breaths.
You didn’t see his arms and legs flailing in all directions.
You didn’t feel his steady heartbeat against your chest.
Don’t tell me that my child’s not perfect.
Even when he wasn’t forming words when the other children were, I knew he still had something to say.
Even when he couldn’t sit without rocking, I knew he was still taking in the world around him.
Even when he wouldn’t look me in the eyes, I knew he still saw me.
Even when he wouldn’t let me hug him, I knew he still had great love for me.
Don’t tell me that my child’s not perfect.
When I dropped him off at preschool for his very first day, you do not know hard it was to leave him
But I did it because I knew it was time for him to soar.
When the teacher told me on the second day that this classroom was not going to work for my son
What I heard was that my child wasn’t going to work for this classroom.
Don’t tell me that my child’s not perfect.
I see more for my child than a life banished to the corner
With glue and popsicle sticks
Building towers that will never amount to anything.
I see more for my child than a life where his file is passed on from one frustrated professional to the next
Making lists of what he will never be able to do instead of celebrating the abundant potential he has within.
I see more for my child than a preschool curriculum for the rest of his educational career,
Forcing shapes and numbers down his throat while he is gasping for deeper knowledge
I see more for my child than diminished expectations, constant dependence, perpetual apathy
A life full of people looking to clock in their time, check off their boxes, and stay within their red tape.
Don’t tell me that my child’s not perfect.
If you would put down your judgmental lens and walk away from your political agenda,
You might find yourself face to face with a boy that holds the universe in his hands.
You didn’t count his ten fingers and ten toes.
You didn’t hear his strong cries as he drew in his first breaths.
You didn’t see his arms and legs flailing in all directions.
You didn’t feel his steady heartbeat against your chest.
Don’t tell me that my child’s not perfect.
Even when he wasn’t forming words when the other children were, I knew he still had something to say.
Even when he couldn’t sit without rocking, I knew he was still taking in the world around him.
Even when he wouldn’t look me in the eyes, I knew he still saw me.
Even when he wouldn’t let me hug him, I knew he still had great love for me.
Don’t tell me that my child’s not perfect.
When I dropped him off at preschool for his very first day, you do not know hard it was to leave him
But I did it because I knew it was time for him to soar.
When the teacher told me on the second day that this classroom was not going to work for my son
What I heard was that my child wasn’t going to work for this classroom.
Don’t tell me that my child’s not perfect.
I see more for my child than a life banished to the corner
With glue and popsicle sticks
Building towers that will never amount to anything.
I see more for my child than a life where his file is passed on from one frustrated professional to the next
Making lists of what he will never be able to do instead of celebrating the abundant potential he has within.
I see more for my child than a preschool curriculum for the rest of his educational career,
Forcing shapes and numbers down his throat while he is gasping for deeper knowledge
I see more for my child than diminished expectations, constant dependence, perpetual apathy
A life full of people looking to clock in their time, check off their boxes, and stay within their red tape.
Don’t tell me that my child’s not perfect.
If you would put down your judgmental lens and walk away from your political agenda,
You might find yourself face to face with a boy that holds the universe in his hands.
22+1
What do you do with twenty two students plus one?
One who goes slower,
who needs more push to climb.
They whisper about taking him out,
for bits at a time.
Who learns but is “different”
than the typical find.
I need him in my classroom.
It’s my job to feed his mind.
How do you make twenty two plus one
twenty three?
When all the students ever see
is the one who has to go.
“Why did he leave?”
I teach to uncover treasure.
All my students are gold.
There should be no difference
and there isn’t to me.
Twenty two plus one
but they all need to learn.
Blue and yellow or yellow and blue
makes green every time. It’s this I yearn.
We all learn differently but the product’s the same.
The answer is found
In different ways.
This lesson helps all and in my heart I know,
it’s my passion to teach.
It’s my passion to mold.
Can anyone explain how to add one to twenty two?
I look around and see a room full of students
who are growing just like me and you.
Unique in their thinking and striving to be
special students.
And I see twenty three.
One who goes slower,
who needs more push to climb.
They whisper about taking him out,
for bits at a time.
Who learns but is “different”
than the typical find.
I need him in my classroom.
It’s my job to feed his mind.
How do you make twenty two plus one
twenty three?
When all the students ever see
is the one who has to go.
“Why did he leave?”
I teach to uncover treasure.
All my students are gold.
There should be no difference
and there isn’t to me.
Twenty two plus one
but they all need to learn.
Blue and yellow or yellow and blue
makes green every time. It’s this I yearn.
We all learn differently but the product’s the same.
The answer is found
In different ways.
This lesson helps all and in my heart I know,
it’s my passion to teach.
It’s my passion to mold.
Can anyone explain how to add one to twenty two?
I look around and see a room full of students
who are growing just like me and you.
Unique in their thinking and striving to be
special students.
And I see twenty three.