My girlfriend shared a video with me the other day. Jason McElwain, who has autism, finally gets his chance to play in a high school basketball game. The team chose Jason to be their manager. They included him in their team because of his love of the sport. It's his job, he explains, to be enthusiastic. It was the final home game of the season and the coach decided to have Jason 'suit up'. The coach explains that he can't promise that Jason will play, but he will do his best. Jason agrees.
With only 4 minutes and 19 seconds left in the game, the coach calls on Jason to get on the court. The student section in the crowd was completely full with the news that Jason 'might' play. The crowd went wild as Jason stepped onto the court as a player for the first time. Jason made his first shot as he got the ball, and unfortunately it was all air. Then his third time down the court he gets the ball again and shoots from the 3 point line and nothing but net!! All in all, Jason scores 7/13 shots, 6/10 in the 3 point zone. Every basket invoked louder and crazier cheers from the crowd. The last shot, a three point nothing but net at the buzzer, had the entire crowd go crazy running onto the court lifting Jason high above their heads.
It's a video that has gone viral and has the most stoic of us, in tears.
A couple of weeks ago, before March break, my 9 year old son with autism came home with a note in his agenda book. "BASKETBALL TRYOUTS - 12:30 pm" was written in his agenda book.
"Kiefer, are you trying out for the basketball team?" I asked.
"Ya mom, so we need a get a basketball. So I can practice." Kiefer replied. Over March break we did get a basketball, and having been on my high school basketball team many years before, as well as having coached, I started trying to teach Kiefer a few fundamentals.
"This is a bounce pass Kiefer. Can you try this?"
He started to get better at catching and had a strong, and accurate pass. We don't have a hoop to practice his shot, but with his gross motor skills behind other kids of his age, I thought we would start small.
Kiefer was happy with his progress. He left the morning of tryouts with 'basketball clothes' ready for his tryout.
When I picked Kiefer up that night, I asked him, "how did tryouts go?" I had been thinking of him all day.
"REALLY GOOD!" Kiefer exclaimed. "The coach says I did awesome! I even got a goal!"
"You mean a basket?" I corrected.
"YA! A BASKET! I did awesome!"
"I'm really proud of you Kiefer, just for trying!" I wasn't sure what the school policy was going to be on letting my, obviously behind, child take part on the team.
My older son and I had a few errands to run that night, and as we drove home I thought, I'll stop in the school and see if a list has been posted.
Well a list had been posted. And Kiefer's name was NOT on that list.
As my oldest son and I told Kiefer the news, he broke down in tears. Full on, big, wet, rolling down his face, tears.
"Maybe the coach will give me another chance Mom..." Kiefer tried to rationalize in his mind how he could be a part of this team, he desired so strongly to be a part of.
"I don't think so Kiefer. Many of the kids are older than you. We will just keep practicing and get better for next year."
I don't remember what else the conversation was like. All I remember is the look on his face as his heart broke, discovering there was a group of people who didn't want him. A team that he was not allowed to be a part of.
I get it. Kiefer is work. Having Kiefer be on the team means that someone will have to watch him and take care of him most of the time. With a short attention span and less defined gross motor skills than that of his teammates, Kiefer is a liability.
But my heart broke right along side his, as I held him while he cried. He doesn't see himself as different. He doesn't understand why he can't belong.
There are many feel good YouTube or Facebook videos out there about the kid with special needs who's friends with the quarter back. Or the kid with disabilities who gets invited to play a game with kids all 'faking it' in rolling chairs or wagons to be just like him in his wheelchair. The kid with down syndrome who is asked to prom by the prom Queen. We start to think, as we immerse ourselves in this feel-good social media, that this is the norm. That there's nothing to 'feel sorry' for, or we start to think that these kids are already taken care of - people are looking out for them.
But we don't live in nostalgic feed-good YouTube-ville. It's not the norm. The people looking out for them are the fierce Momma and Poppa Bears (and if you're lucky Brother and Sister bears, and Grandma and Grandpa Bears). And those kids DO have heartbreak - more than your neuro-typical kids. More than the able bodied kids. Just more. And there's no magical viral video of us picking up the pieces.
Because, honestly, that's just our everyday.
💔
