Reading articles AND THEN COMMENT SECTIONS (because I was foolish) about how special ed restraints are necessary to protect the normal children. Which is sort of BLARGH and gross and all sorts of issues. But mostly this is directed in anger at people who say things aren’t fair to the normal children.
It was normal children who dropped a desk on my head in 6th grade. (Probably an accident, admittedly, caused by overconfident boys trying to carry things on top of their heads.).
It was normal children who watched tv instead of read books and who talked to friends at lunch instead of read books.*
It was normal children who stole my notebooks and graph paper at lunch and wouldn’t give them back.
And all the adults would tell me was that he had a crush on me. I didn’t care. That didn’t give someone I didn’t like the right to grab my notebook and run it around the field away from me. I was making graphs and words.
But that’s what normal children do.
And normal children know that’s why it happens.
And at some point in middle school, the normal children stop playing on the bars and the swings and the sand because there is some sort of normal children code that teaches them this.
Normal children don’t hide under their beds and throw shoes at 6th grade camp because they are in a room full of other normal children and they want to go home.
Aren’t the normal children so lovely?
how they do all their normal children things?
with all the other normal children…
And I am not even the “bad” sort of abnormal. I am the quiet, academic one, who hyperfocuses on schoolwork. I am productive and polite. I can blend in if needed, if not into crowds, then certainly into the background. I didn’t seem that far from normal. So I was never hurt that badly, because teachers liked me.
I was mostly treated ok, really, by the normal children. Because I seemed mostly normal. I was average-height and skinny and looked just like them in our plaid skirts and polo shirt Catholic school uniform. We all had the same color socks and solid black shoes–no white accents allowed. There were only small quiet bits of me that weren’t normal. I practiced smiling in the mirror and learned the rules for staying quiet and learned not to ask about turning in homework if the teacher forgot to ask for it and learned how to pretend I was still working on problems after I finished and that I wasn’t allowed to finish early and read every time. Things were mostly good to me.
But I remember biting someone in 7th grade in the hallway outside of the classroom. Which I didn’t get in trouble for and my parents never heard about, and I remember it wasn’t unprovoked, so I am not sure what she was doing that made me bite her. But I don’t think I was the sort to just go randomly biting people, so there must have been a reason.
But mostly just lots of little quiet things, so by 8th grade I decided there was no point in trying to make friends anymore with the same 60 people I’d known since kindergarten since I would be leaving soon anyway. Quiet little things that added up to quiet lunches. But it was ok because I had my books and school was only until 2:30 and most of the time was structured classes and then I could go home, and home was lovely and safe and not full of normal children and their new secret rules.
Who really cares if things are fair to the normal children? Things are always fair for normal children. Things are built for normal children. The normal children aren’t fair to the rest of us.
(Also this is a lot more bitter than normally things I write, especially about things that happened 10 years ago and that I don’t really think about all that often. I’m not super sure about why that is. But it’s thoughts that I want to put out there. Because I don’t really talk about any of this ever and mostly I just hide them away and usually there is a reason if I don’t tell people about things. Sometimes it is just because it is not interesting, but that is not why I never told anyone anything about this earlier. Because I tell my parents a lot of things, but I didn’t tell them most of this. And I think there is a reason why I hid things and why this makes me so upset besides the obvious FAIR TO THE NORMAL CHILDREN and even if I’m not sure what the reason is, it is there. And so I think it’s valid. And I’m going to store it here for possible future use and reference.)
(I’m also afraid this veers into thinking-I’m-better-than-everyone-else territory, which I’m afraid of, so I want to put that disclaimer down here on the bottom. I was a weird kid in a lot of ways. Weird in a well-actually-that-was-because-I’m-autistic, bad-at-peopling-often, sort of way. But also weird in a made-up-stories-about-brain-eating-horses-regularly-way [although to my best knowledge, that was a weird with cousins not with school mates]… So maybe some of this was also just because of that. I’m not sure. I’m sure the other kids were mostly very nice people or are now. I also was not the weirdest kid, because that title belonged to a boy in our class of 60 who started in 6th grade or so.)
(I want to put more disclaimers on here. But I’m not sure who or what to disclaim. So please just don’t be upset anyone who reads this because I’m sure your life was harder if that’s what you think because actually mine wasn’t all that bad and I don’t want to be trying to group myself in with you if you think I shouldn’t be there because I’ve been too safe and happy for my whole life. Maybe I’m blowing things up too big. I probably am.)
*(Not that tv is a bad thing, more that you shouldn’t invite people to your house to play with your child then say how they are such a Good Example because then maybe you aren’t really sure about Friends anymore and also then the friends aren’t as sure about it either.)