While I’ve had the gloves on the moment he was born,
I now see that the real fight,
Has only just begun.
The fight out there.
In a world not ready for him,
Despite him being ready for the world.
And my biggest fears come to light,
As each passing preschool day,
That we face a life of compromise.
And I start to see,
That best intentions,
Just isn’t enough.
And I must demand action.
Demand it for Isaac.
Because where it can be achieved,
Action creates growth,
While the thought that counts simply stunts it.
And the sad truth is that,
The experience in disability support for young children,
Just isn’t there.
My frustration grows,
As reports seem to be taken as suggestions,
Rather than imperatives.
And the absolute necessity for inclusion,
Is lost in translation,
Despite best intentions.
And while it breaks my heart,
And hardens me a little more day by day,
To be the villain,
The bad guy with my arms in the air,
Dishing out the stern words,
I feel it’s my duty,
To make them see,
Just how hard it is sitting in the minority,
How draining it is fighting your way through,
And just how demeaning it is when so much is dismissed.
And so I will shout from the rooftops,
So everyone can hear,
The undeniable truth that,
We’ve run a marathon just to be here today!
Not to mention,
The past four years,
Of being kicked when you’re down.
And so I press,
While sick to my stomach,
To make them see how the smallest of requests,
Can be of the biggest importance.
And for unique individuals,
Calls for unique,
And beyond extraordinary,
Because given half the chance,
They’ll teach you more than you ever knew,
You needed to know.
And without doubt,
Modifications and adaptations,
Are the only way to make this possible.
So do it!
And without rest,
I raise my hands,
For yet another round.
Because a good fighter knows,
You never drop your gloves.