A story by Day Leary

Day--her first teaching day this year.

Juan is an eighteen year old boy with cerebral palsy.  He rides in a wheelchair, sometimes with his hands held still by velcro straps.  He turns his head sharply to the left when he speaks, and as he prepares his ideas, he jerks and unintentionally “dances” as though at a punk rock club.  They told me at the beginning of the year that I may never see him smile, that he is mentally incredibly ON while every second his body betrays him.

But when he is still, and when you take the time to sit receptively as he passes through the jaws of constant and exhausting movement, you see his eyes.  They are deep brown, full of light.

I met Juan just one week ago on the first day of school.  I am high school English teacher who also gets to teach public speaking.  Juan is a member of that class.  Today, I called on him to do Table Topics, a type of speech where students speak extemporaneously as they answer a question posed to them.  I already knew Juan loves the DC and Marvel multiverses, so I asked him, “Juan, are you ready to try a speech?”  

“Yes,” he answered with a spark in his eye.

“Who is your favorite superhero?”

The class is a true mix: a few superstar athletes, a few academic high-achievers, some English language learners, a few kids with special physical and intellectual needs.  Some of the students are shy, but incredibly brave, others loud and incredibly eager.  Our school is a unique place, a hidden gem of compassion in a world where it sometimes feel like people have forgotten the word even exists.  Ours is a place where our physically and intellectually challenged students play an active role in classes and in school events.  Last year our prom king and queen, elected by the student body, both had special needs.  So, as Juan was pushed to the front of the room, the rest of the class waited, genuinely interested in hearing the answer to his question.

Here is his speech:

“My favorite superhero is Superman.”  We all leaned forward to hear him better.  Juan drew his legs in and out, pounding on his wheelchair, a loud clanging filling the room.  “I like him because he is an alien who comes from another planet…” Another pause as Juan’s neck jerked his head so he was facing the ceiling.  We all waited with quiet attention.  “He came here only to help people.”  Another long pause, Juan’s face contorting and tongue freezing up for countable seconds.   “He is a good man, but some people think he is a monster.”  A shorter pause this time.  “I can relate.”

There was an audible intake of breath from the class and then they erupted into applause, one of the varsity athletes even yelling, “Way to go, Juan!”  

And for the first time, the boy they told me may never ever smile in class did.

Day Leary

Teacher

English Department Chairperson

“Far and away the best prize that life has to offer is the chance to work hard at work worth doing.”

--Theodore Roosevelt