Differences

This past week was a tough one for my son. He found out that, most likely, he's headed for Special Ed math and, in English, he may need to start using what’s called an ALPHA Smart (a sort of laptop keyboard device to help him take notes in class at the same speed as the other students).

The first blow was expected. He has struggled with math for years. His mother and I tackled the issue like we have with just about every other challenge he has faced in his young life: with full immersion and aggressive counter-measures. He’s had a tutor for most of the past two years and, since math is my own Achilles heel, my wife has spent countless evenings and weekends studying with him, trying to get him up and over the hill, all to no avail. He's dodged the words “Special Ed” his entire life. But now, it’s caught up with him and he’s finding the confrontation intimidating.

The second blow was unexpected. English is his strongest subject. He loves to write and is a voracious reader. But the signals from his brain to his hands are just a few milliseconds off, and it’s costing him during test times and with essays. I’ve told him that nowadays hardly anyone in high school and college goes to class without a laptop or IPAD, so being forced to learn how to type on the ALPHA Smart this soon is actually a good thing. But in an area where he;s always shined, being one of the few kids in class who “gets” to pull out a keyboard during class is making him feel somewhat defeated.

I wanted to tell him not to pay any attention to the sideways glances or insensitive comments of the other kids, to instead just pretend they’re not there. I wanted to console him by telling him that no one will really notice anyway or, if they do, they won’t care. But in the William Golding world of 7^th and 8^th grade, I know better, and so does he.

So instead, I shot straight and told him that now is as good a time as any to embrace his differences. It’s a grown up concept, but he’s an old soul anyway. I told him that those things that make him “special needs” are only a smidge different than those things that make him “special…period” as a person, as a young man, as a friend and as a son. I reminded him that God made him just the way he is for both a reason and a purpose. Then, for good measure, I gave him a little dose of Dr. Suess : "Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind.”

Rivalries

We all have passions. Some are valid. Others, I've come to find out, are distractions. One change I had to accept when I became a believer was a complete change in my perspective. The paradigm shifted. I could no longer live in the comfort of my singular, self-centered world view. I now had a new perspective to apply to every area of my life.

Quite frankly? It's a pain in the ass sometimes. I mean, I'm sorry, but I'd rather just jam people into categories as I've defined them and then praise, accept, bash or dismiss them accordingly. It's so much easier than really getting to know them, or listening to their side of things, or feeling the pain of their rejection if we don't see eye to eye. The problem is, somewhere in the midst of all that defining we start to define ourselves, and the definition becomes less and less flattering.

The examples of this paradigm shift in my own life have become quite numerous in the last decade. The young Republican who despised with a deep, deep passion any sort of social programs? He had to come face to face with the reality of becoming financially ruined if not for some of those very same programs which stepped in to help when his son was born with special needs. The man who looked at political liberals as utter and complete idiots would soon discover a cousin who would become like the sister he never had, even though she leans as far to the left as he does to the right. The early Christian with a deep rooted suspicion of Jews and their treatment of Christ would soon run into a rabbi over bagels, and chat at length of matters concerning the human heart. In short, God gave me eyes to see what I'd never seen before: that people are people, with viewpoints, perspectives and ideas that are just as valid as mine, which blossom within hearts that beat just as passionately.

The truth is that there are rivalries within us at all times, between faith and reason, acceptance and rejection, understanding and misunderstanding, hope and despair. When we engage in the negative aspects of these internal struggles we disengage from love and life. What happens next could be described in a number of ways, but in short? We lose.