Good Housekeeping
1st June 2024
When My Son Was Cast in a Play, He Finally Got to Be a Part of Our Community
By Jaclyn Greenberg
This past December, I watched as my 11-year-old son Henry took center stage during a community play. Two of his co-stars spun around him and held up their arms like they were Vanna White and Henry was the answer board. Henry beamed as the audience erupted into cheers. I beamed too, as tears streamed down my cheeks.
Henry, my middle son is disabled. His list of diagnoses is long but, to keep it simple, he’s sassy and smart but unable to walk or talk.
Since the day he was born, I’ve been torn between two different worlds: one that communicates with and includes my two neurotypical children and the other that understands Henry. His early birth followed by a scary diagnosis led to extreme mother’s guilt and overwhelm. I’ve spent hours looking for doctors who understand my son’s needs or slogging through paperwork to get him the right equipment and support.
Henry has participated in hundreds of hours of therapy. He attends school in another district because our local schools can’t accommodate his needs. His school is great, but his peers, and their families, live up to an hour away, making it hard to get together. In the evening, I drive my other two children to art classes, music lessons, various sports and playdates where I sit in the car with Henry, not only because he can’t easily participate, but because, shockingly, many buildings are still not wheelchair accessible.
But the hardest part has been the social exclusion.
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