Over the weekend, my wife Tiffany was talking to the woman who was Jack’s special ed teacher for close to two years back in California until we moved out here to Colorado. Real quick, if you don’t know who Jack is or why this site is called Operation Jack, click here. In a nutshell, he’s my son, six weeks shy of turning 9, and still in diapers and not talking due to the severe autism he struggles with.
Anywayws, Tiff was talking to the teacher and catching up on a whole host of things. To know Jack is to love him — he’s one of the sweetest kids you’ll ever meet. He struggles a lot, which is pretty painful from a parent’s perspective. It can be pretty frustrating, too — he has constant meltdowns and as much as you want to help him, you don’t necessarily know what’s bothering him. When you can’t solve it or get him to understand that you’re trying to help him, his frustration grows and his only way to express himself often becomes self-injuring behavior. We never go anywhere without his padded helmet.
Back to the original point, though — he’s a very, very sweet and lovable little boy. Everybody who gets to know him falls in love. He’s the most pure 8-year-old I’ve ever met and just about everybody who meets him feels the same. So Tiff and the teacher were catching up, talking about Jack’s progress and how he’s adjusting to Colorado. Like everybody who had a part in his life in California, she really misses him.
Tiff and the teacher can talk a little differently now that it’s not the parent-teacher-student relationship. She moved on to a different district and we moved on to a different time zone. We got along with her very well during the almost two years that she was Jack’s teacher, but now we don’t have to hold up any barriers. We won’t be sitting across the table from her at an IEP. We won’t be holding her accountable on a daily basis. Now, it’s in the friendship zone and Jack is the bond that brings it all together.
So, the headline of this blog is You never know when you’ll make a difference. I’ve been keeping that in mind for the three years that Operation Jack has taken up every spare moment I have. Galatians 6:9 drove me (and still drives me) — Let us not grow weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. I’ve always thought that I’ll never know when or how I’m going to make a difference, but I keep telling myself that somehow, I have, and somehow, I will continue to do so. Somehow, somewhere, my efforts have and will continue to make life at least a little bit better for children with autism.
Tiff pushes on daily for Jack, and she has a heart for other special-needs children, too. I don’t know if she’s had these same thoughts as me about herself, but she found out during that phone call with Jack’s former teacher that she too has made life better for kids with autism by fighting the good fight and doing what’s right, no matter what anybody thinks of her.
I won’t get into the nitty-gritty of the specifics, but about a year or so before we moved, Tiff noticed something one day on the special-needs playground that upset her a lot. She cried about it for a week. Now, it was nothing criminal or even remotely close, but it was enough to make an emotional mom with a huge heart upset. She complained to a different teacher, who she thought was responsible for what she saw. She went in and was somewhat abrasive with the principal at the school. She felt the situation deserved it and she didn’t care whose feathers she ruffled.
At that school, all the special ed teachers know all the parents and all the kids. From that day forward, Tiff noticed that she was getting an icy reception from some of them (although not Jack’s teacher — we loved her from start to finish). Things seemed different. Tiff didn’t really care, though. As I often say about all three of my kids, we’re not going through the system to make friends or buddies with the school or the teachers or the administration. If we do, that’s great. But our No. 1 goal always has been and always will be to do what’s best for our kids (and other kids in the special ed department, when we can).
So the cold shoulder from some of the folks didn’t bother us that much, because we didn’t feel guilty about what we did. It was just collateral damage from what she decided was the right thing to do. She always kept her eye open and never again noticed the same issue that we had seen. You always wonder if they’re on their best behavior when you’re around, or if they’ve truly made corrections. We didn’t know, but we just kept on moving forward, focusing on doing the best we could for Jack.
Well, Tiff came to find out that she really did make a difference! After the meeting with the principal, the school made clear policy changes to address the situation! The flaw in the policy was corrected and we didn’t see that problem again because the issue was fixed! A good 50 or so special-needs children directly benefitted and will continue to benefit in the future because of this change.
On top of that, the change has been successful, and from what I understand (although keep in mind, this is third-hand, because it’s what Tiff relayed to me), some of these changes are being implemented district-wide! All Tiff was doing when she originally complained was what she deemed to be the right thing. And at the end of it all, she made a difference and made things better for a whole lot of kids who needed it!
So the moral of the story, I guess, is that you never know when you’ll make a difference. You might never even know after the fact if you reacted to a situation and made a difference. But based on my faith and my experience, I truly believe that if you consistently push forward and do the right thing, the world will be better for it.
That’s all I have for today. Have a great Wednesday![subscribe2]
I needed this today! Thank you so much. I’ve been battling my community in an injustice that I see. This has given me strength. Thank you
Always, always be the voice for those who don’t have one. Period.
Since I was a kid, I’ve always said, “You never know what you avoided.” So you missed the green light and got stuck at a notoriously long red light and wound up late for work — but maybe in the process you missed being involved in a truly horrific car crash.
But I’ve also always taken it a step further, which has always made people give me weird looks. I say, even if something bad happens to you, it could always have been worse — and you’ll never know that, either. When I lost four months of running and hundreds of dollars in race fees to a stress fracture, I knew deep down that maybe, just maybe, along the way I’d missed getting hit by a car and losing a leg, just because I couldn’t run.
People tell me such views are pessimistic because I’m thinking of something worse, but I think it’s true optimism, because I’m seeing the good side. Jack’s autism causes untold hours of stress for your family, but an occasional glimpse like the chat with that teacher is proof both that things could be worse, and that Jack has a purpose. He doesn’t know it, but he’s making life better for others, and I think that’s really what we should all be doing, anyway.
Imagine if more people had the values and dedication of you and Tiff! Good job guys ; )