HEY, LITTLE MAN

Hey Little Man,

Although we haven’t met, I wanted to let you know that I see you. And I’m cheering for you from the sidelines.

I bet you’re a bit relieved and confused today. You see, your brave mama marched into your classroom, waived the white flag of surrender, grabbed your things, and walked you out of your class.

You don’t have to go back there anymore.

I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry that your teachers, who claimed to be experienced special educators, thought you were disruptive in your tiny class of three. I bet something just made you feel unsafe and you just didn’t know how to tell anyone.

Kindergarten doesn’t have to be a scary place, you know.

I’m sorry your teachers assumed you could read and insisted you follow the signs that read “no arguing” and “quiet please.”

I’m sorry they insisted you sit in the lunch room with all the other jubilant elementary school kids. And although you wanted to be there so badly, the noise and chaos was just too much for your little neurological system.

It may not always be that way, little buddy. One day your system will adjust and you will figure out how to handle the noise. But it’s hard when you feel so nervous. One day soon you will feel more relaxed because you will have a choice to stay or go.

Freedom does that to us, by the way. Sometimes just the freedom to be flexible is enough to make you feel safe. The walls don’t feel like they are caving in on you when you have a choice.

Even better, I know the walls seem to disappear when you have someone walking alongside you just cheering you along. I wish I had walked beside you at school today so you and your mama would know you are not alone.

You are the reason I write, you know.

I write because the world needs to know. The world needs to see your worth. And they need to see your struggles. Because if they do, then they will be kinder to you.

I want other people to take the time to understand you. I want your teachers to see your heart and see beyond your outward manifestations of fear. I want them to see that you are smart and capable and so ready to learn. If they would just get their silly rules out of the way and give you space.

If the world would just grow along with you.

I want you to know one thing: your mom and dad heard you. They, too, believe in you. And they will help you reach your potential, no matter who or what stands in your way.

You are destined for great things, my young friend. Don’t listen to the voices that tell you you are not.

I can’t wait to watch you grow.

Love,

Mrs. Steele