A Special Ordinary School Day

By Sheva Givre

Yesterday was my daughter’s first day of school. We bought her a new backpack and new shoes. Her excitement was felt through our house and rubbed off onto her brothers. Our little baby was finally joining the ranks of Cheder students here in Baltimore.

We laid out her skirt and knee socks the night before, even though she was adamantly against the knee socks (she is only 3). When she said Shema with her Tatty, like she does every night, we reminded her that tomorrow was the big day.

The next morning she dressed faster than I have ever seen and threw those knee socks on with such gusto. I looked at her, shocked, and she smiled, like to say, “I planned to wear these the entire time, I just couldn’t make it easy on you Mom.”

When we got to Cheder she started to cheer. She grabbed her big brother’s hand and entered the building. She hung her backpack in her cubby and was in class quicker than I could say “we’re here!”

I barely got my hugs and kisses because she was already at the play kitchen, directing what all the other kids should be doing. When I came to pick her up she cried. She didn’t want to leave.

So why is my daughter’s story so special? Why did her first day bring me to childlike tears?

3 years ago, our little one was born, and the doctor quietly told us that she had Down syndrome. This was a diagnosis that scared us to the core, because honestly we didn’t know much about raising a child with Down syndrome. Would she marry? Would she ever live on her own? Would she be able to go to school, and if she does who will accept her?

I personally enjoyed keeping my daughter in a little protected bubble for the last 3 years, but the time had come to send her out. Truth be told, I planned on keeping her home 1 more year. I told this to the principal last year during registration time. She smiled at me and handed me registration forms with my daughter’s name already on them.

“When you’re ready” she said.

I told her I would never be ready, but truth be told this simple act of handing me these personalized forms set me on the right track for being ready. I didn’t have to advocate for her. I didn’t have to convince the school that she would benefit from an inclusive environment. I didn’t have to sit down and have endless meetings explaining why my daughter deserves a Torah education even though Hashem made her a little different. None of that was said, just a simple gesture that said we accept and want your daughter.

Rozie will be the first child to go to Cheder Chabad of Baltimore with special needs, and honestly I’m not the trailblazing type. I’d rather send her somewhere where they have more experience dealing with her needs, but we are a Cheder family and her Chassidishe Chinuch is very important to us.

When we showed up at the open house, I tentatively walked to my daughter’s classroom. Would this environment work for her? Would the sinks be too high? I know sink height is a silly thing to worry about, but your mind does these things to you when you feel like you might be sinking yourself.

The first thing I noticed was a brand new stepstool with strong handles. They bought this just for my daughter, that way she can also independently reach whatever she needs. I didn’t ask them to buy this, it wasn’t even on my mind at this point, but again the simple gesture eased this worried mom’s heart.

I started to cry at that open house for so many reasons: the silly step stool, the fear that other kids will make fun of her, the idea of letting my baby go into a world that may not always accept her. Honestly at this point I was one jumbled up emotional wreck.

Needless to say, the first day was great. She walked into that school, knee socks held high. She was welcomed with warmth and love, and not because she is different.

Thank you Cheder Chabad for accepting my little girl. May your acceptance for all of the Rebbe’s kinder light a path for Jewish education worldwide, where children of all abilities are accepted and given the opportunity to learn, even if they can’t reach the sink.

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Sheva Givre, married and a mother of Melech, Dovie and Rozie, was born and raised in the beautiful desert of Arizona and in recent years moved to Baltimore, MD. She is the author and photographer of an inspiration blog where she photographs and writes about the joys and challenges of family, motherhood, and raising a child with special needs. Visit myshtub.blogspot.com.