Christmas Blessings to each of you that have made your way to this little corner of the web.
A few weeks ago, I read this amazing quote from Robert F. Kennedy and felt a kinship to this great man. His entire “Ripple of Hope” speech is truly beautiful and worth your time. It’s located here: www.rfksafilm.org/html/speeches/unicape.php
I believe in ripples of hope…but sometimes they are hard to see.
Hard to feel.
Hard to know.
Last week, I went to our traditional St. James School’s Christmas Pageant. It has the students from first grade to eighth grade telling a version of the Christmas story. There are angels and shepherds, donkeys, kings, camels, cats, cows, saints, Baby Jesus, Mary, Joseph, the innkeeper, Angel Gabriel and a very large choir supported by a school band. It’s a gigantic school effort and each year I look forward to it as my centering prayer.
The music, the story, the children, the teachers…every single part reminds me of what is important.
So, as my newly-minted choir member went off to sing. I scrambled for my seat and settled in.
I took a deep breath.
I felt my heart filling up with gratitude at our school who makes the time for this ministry…this education of our children.
This Catholic school welcomed my son with Down Syndrome, Patrick, for all nine years. He was a part of the Christmas pageant every year.
In 8th grade, he played Joseph and he loved every minute.
Patrick, as Joseph, and his paraeducator, Sarah, ready for the Christmas Pageant.
But now, Patrick has graduated and there is no student with Down Syndrome who is a part of our school.
Yes, there are students of differing abilities. Yes, there are students with IEP’s and speech and OT and PT needs.
But still…
As I sunk into the stillness and darkness of Mary and Joseph’s journey, I felt the gift of this night. As I listened to the choir’s careful words and beautiful melodies, I was calmed and nourished…and then this happened:
The angels and shepherds from the 2nd grade class sang Silent Night in American Sign Language.
No words.
No choir.
Only the sounds of a few flutes and the incredible magic in the hands and expression of 2nd graders.
Here is an up close version of Lyla and her classmates:
I was moved to tears. A mom behind me grabbed my arm and asked me if that was new.
I knew it was.
I cherished it and moved on and soaked up the rest of the beauty of that night.
It wasn’t until the next day at school when I was standing near some second grade moms that the full force of that Silent Night hit me.
Lyla is in 2nd grade. Lyla is Hard of Hearing. Lyla is working on her social skills because of the delay in her speech…but her speech today is fantastic. Her peers see her as an equal. They hold her to the highest standards which is both a blessing and a curse. Because sometimes Lyla needs a break. Even with hearing aids and an FM system for support, she still has to work so much harder every day just to hear what her peers and the adults around her are saying and to figure out what they want from her. Sometimes people need to recognize all that it is taking for Lyla to be in a typical classroom learning alongside her peers with minimal support.
Lyla’s second grade teacher did just that.
Mrs. Stanton approached the music teacher, Mr. Schwagerus, with the idea of doing Silent Night in American Sign Language as a second grade class. Mrs. Stanton knew that Lyla would be the expert as the class learned what Lyla already knew so well. The Deaf and Hard of Hearing teacher from the county came to our school for two straight weeks to teach an entire class of second graders the signs. Lyla’s mom and older sister, Juliana, were up front the night of the performance demonstrating the signs during the song just in case anyone might need some support.
That night, Lyla’s face glowed as the song was signed. She dutifully did the signs but she couldn’t help but look around at all of her friends who were doing them too. In that moment, Lyla was acknowledged and supported and held up by her school community.
Lyla is radiant as she begins Silent Night.
The silent beauty of just the movements to that very special song was captivating to all of us.
It was a crystallized moment of inclusion.
So perfect.
So calm.
So bright.
Mrs. Stanton was inclusive with Patrick in the most beautiful way…taking true ownership of his learning…investing in his academic and social growth personally…
just as she does for all of her students.
This is the mark of a truly inclusive teacher…and a truly inclusive school.
They had an idea. They figured out how to make it work.
They spread the ripples of hope…in the broadest way…and the walls keep tumbling down.
Thank you Mrs. Stanton.
Thank you Mr. Schwagerus.
Thank you to Lyla’s family and most especially to, Lyla, for learning alongside us and making each of us better.
Merry Christmas!
**A very special thanks to Charles King and Cheri Benson for sharing their amazing video footage as well.**
