When I was in elementary school, they offered a program called P.I.P. (Parents in Partnership). It was for children with special needs that required a different environment than the typical classroom setting. The teachers or administrators or whoever were remarkable in their decision to allow kids from the standard classrooms to go help out in PIP AS A REWARD for being good and doing well. AS A REWARD.

I am so grateful for that experience. I loved going. I loved helping. I loved seeing their beautiful faces light up when they saw the “big kids” come through the door. We might play games. We might help clean up. We might just watch the kids for a moment so the teachers could take a break.

Now some of the kids could be a handful. There was one kid who was a biter. I don’t remember ever getting bitten but I remember some of my classmates had that experience. I mostly remember having fun playing games. And, oddly, it was the beginning of my experience of people being fascinated with my hair. The kids loved to touch it, play with it, and sometimes pull it. ☹

There have been several times my hair has been a fascination for people – my mom’s friend has an Autistic son who LOVED touching my hair. And when Paige and I were volunteering for the Special Olympics, a young athlete finished his event and immediately came over to touch my hair – it was funny; several coaches started running over to tell him to stop but slowed down a step or two when they saw my reaction wasn’t fear but kindness. And then there was this drag queen who kept touching my hair (and other parts of me) but that is a whole other blog.

I digress.

I think the point of this rambling is to express my gratitude for that whole experience. I know a lot of kids will see kids who are different from them – being in a wheelchair, lacking muscle coordination, having stiff muscles and exaggerated reflexes – and feel fear because they don’t understand. And to kids, as well as many adults, what they don’t understand induces anxiety and fear.

Maybe I was predisposed towards acceptance because my cousin has cerebral palsy. And I never thought any differently about her. She could play Barbies with me like a pro.

But maybe it was because I had the PIP experience. Maybe it was because I was introduced to those special needs kids as the reward, as the gifts they truly are.