I would sit at my desk, trying my best to sit criss cross apple sauce in the tiny chair that definitely was not made for a person of my height. I would rest my elbows on the table, tapping my foot or shaking my leg, filled with anxiety trying to get through the day. Other classmates would look over at me while I tried to speak; their faces were so confused like they were trying to eat a sour airhead. I couldn’t hold a pencil, and it kept falling out of my hands. I tried to read, but nothing made sense. But it was not due to my intelligence but not being able to access the academics.
I’ve noticed the narrative not only from society but individuals with disabilities themselves that somehow having an IEP is some privilege or “taking the easy way out.” As somehow, living with a disability is easy. It’s ableism from society and internalized ableism from individuals with disabilities. Society’s voice becomes our own voice, and I, too, once suffered from internalized ableism. I had to separate how I felt about my own disability versus what I was actively taught as a child on how I should feel about my disability.
I would have never admitted that I needed an IEP to be successful in school. But it’s not because I was unwilling to do the work or was lazy or defiant. However, those terms were put on me carelessly, like other people’s words would not affect me. I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t read, I couldn’t spell, I couldn’t write; how was I supposed to strive in a classroom made for Neurotypicals? If I couldn’t access the academic material, there was no possible way I would learn it that way.
I refuse to feel any shame, guilt, or embarrassment for my fundamental human rights. Because I didn’t deserve to fail my assignments because of my disability as a child. What I deserved, and what every human being deserves, is a chance. So parents, please give your child a chance at school; please allow them to have an IEP. I know you may not want your child to be labeled, but society will label us one way or the other. I would much instead be labeled apraxic (an accurate label) than what I was mistaken for in the past as lazy, defiant, avoidant, or rude. I was only a child trying to learn, and with an IEP, I was finally able to.
My mom always normalized the IEP process. I never felt like growing up somehow; this was wrong, although society taught me that later. My mom always pointed out how hard I worked and that I had to work 10x more complex than my peers to do the work. My grades didn’t matter; what mattered was that I was trying because I had more reason than most of my peers in my classroom to give up.
Love,
Jordan Christian LeVan
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