I can’t remember when it started
Where I first heard the phrase, slow
When someone spoke my name
Then said the word… below.
The older I would become
The battles seemed to get worse
And though, more was expected
I couldn’t rid my awful curse.
I was the one that would fidget.
I was the one that would stare.
I was the one fooling around.
I was the one told… I didn’t care.
I attempted all my homework
Yet, I couldn’t pass a test,
With every humiliation
I became more depressed.
Then, sometimes it would happen
The teacher would call my name,
My heart pounded in my chest
My head bowed with shame.
The response! The demand,
We have done this many times-
If you just would just pay attention
You wouldn’t keep the class behind!
One day, I came to my old school
And I was moved to a new class.
I was given a special instructor
And goals I could surpass.
Someone taught me with patience
In a way I could comprehend,
I was no longer being judged
For my inability to blend.
Mine- was not a dumb room
Discovery filled that space
And all these long years later
I can still picture a caring face.
My confidence was restored
The curse fled with time-
And my special education
Ensured I wasn’t left behind.
Thank you for believing in me
For today you wouldn’t know-
Someone used to speak my name
Then say the word… below.
Written with thanks to
Marla Peterson on behalf of my son, Braden & the many students she has inspired throughout her career in special education.
Originally Posted On Site: 2011-04-14 11:17:56
Last Login: 05.25.12
Visits as of 12-12-07: 114
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