Land’s End

Several weeks ago, my wife and I met with our daughter Shana’s teacher after school. Pending the long-overdue completion of a construction project, her classroom is tucked away in the furthest corner of the building behind the stage of the school auditorium. For various reasons, Shana’s campus goes on full lockdown less than an hour after the end of the school day. All access is then controlled by security personnel – think young men in day-glo vests with walkie-talkies, instead of uniformed, armed guards ;-). We had already informed security that we would be exiting via the auditorium doors instead of returning to the main entrance. As we prepared to leave the building, we saw several young men (middle school age) riding their bikes just outside the doors. Apparently, they were waiting for someone to exit the building so that they could sneak inside and ride around on the wheelchair ramps adjoining the auditorium. When I refused to let them in, one young man in particular began to argue with and curse at me. Because I didn’t sense any threat of physical violence, I held my ground and shut the door behind me. That unleashed a final tirade of profanity as we walked away. Shana attends an after-school program on campus, so either me or my wife swing by to pick her up about 5 pm every day. The sad thing for me as a parent is seeing how many young people are still loitering around campus at that hour (school ends at 3:25 pm). The ones I’m talking about aren’t waiting for parents to pick them up – they’re unsupervised, with nowhere to go and nothing in particular to do. The optimist in me wants to believe that their parents are working hard, trying their best to provide (financially and otherwise) for them, and that they see their children as special – but I wonder if the attitude of the young man we encountered reflects very different life circumstances.

I was thinking about all of this as my “other daughter” Rachel works her way through the high school application process. I’ve written quite a bit about Shana, but like so many siblings of special needs children, Rachel seems to get overlooked – at least in my writing. On the other hand, I’m finding out that there’s nothing more embarrassing than the parent of a teenager! As any parent of a “mixed” family (special needs and normally-developing children) will attest, the challenge is not merely dealing with special needs – but how to keep your other children from feeling marginalized. Rachel’s first choice for high school is St. Ignatius (SI), a private, college-prep school here in the city. I can hear the questions already…yes, it’s expensive – but we decided to apply and then if she’s accepted, confront the financial challenges of private school tuition.

Applicants to SI are allowed to designate two people for letters of recommendation.  The school then contacts those individuals privately to solicit the letters. So often, we as parents are not the best judge of ”who” are children are – particularly as they get older and spend more time outside the home. As such, the opinions of others we trust can often validate or refute what we believe to be true about our children. With that in mind and because I rarely write about Rachel – I’d like to share an abridged version of a recommendation letter that was written on her behalf.