Citizenship in School: Reconceptualizing Down Syndrome, By Christopher Kliewer

I am of an age where children with Down Syndrome were kept away from other children, considered "normal" under school standards of the time. It was wrong then and it is still wrong now to segregate these children, and others with disabilities. These children were called "special" or "special needs" and as I said were kept away from the so-called "normal kids" of the same or close in age. They had a "special bus" and "special classrooms" and were not very often in close proximity to other children. This was at a time when Society thought it best to hide these children away from the others, like their was some sort of unnamed shame or a curse that fell upon the family. If they allowed the children out at all, then they were installed into these segregated classrooms. This was during the 1950's and 1960's when "judgment and "democracy" were not operating at their level best in their thinking. 

I always felt a bit sad when the special students would be at recess, but in another part of the school year with an extra fence around it at Broad Street School, in Central Falls, where I grew up. I always remember that there was a little girl who would spend her entire recess standing next to the fence between her "special recess area" and my recess area looking longingly into our much larger recess yard and looking at all of the other kids who would not talk to her.

One day I walked over to the fence and started talking to her, and she was startled when I started to talk to her asking her name. At first, she did not talk to me and I thought that this was her special disability. After a minute or two, she blinked and said that her name was Daisy, and why was I talking to her, that she was very different from me? I said, "You are not so different because you have two eyes, two legs, and arms, and two hands like me?" She
said she had some sort of a disease that made her older than me? I still did not understand since she was the same age as me. We started talking everyday at recess time and we would share apples and oranges and I noticed that her sadness seemed to melt away. Daisy had blonde hair, and blue eyes always with a ribbon in her hair that matched her outfit. I do not know why, but I always felt happy when I saw her in the recess schoolyard, even though we were separated by Society and with a fence. My friends also were not happy to lose one of their team mates and said why are you talking to a retard? I put him in a headlock until he admitted that she was not retarded, but just special and then he went away.

One day I saw her "Special Ed" teacher talking to my regular Teacher and did not thing anything about it. At the end of the school day, my teacher at the end of classes, my stopped me and asked me why was I talking to Daisy? I said because she was sad and pretty, and nice and we were now friends. I also showed her a blue ribbon that she had given me because it was the exact color of her eyes. My Teacher said that we were in different classes and we would not see each other pretty soon. I said because of the school year ending? She said Yes. I said that is ok I am going to go over to her house and surprise her. My teacher got this real weird look and walked away. That day I stayed at school later than usual and I waited until she boarded her "special bus" to take her home. Since she lived the closest to the school, she was dropped off first, so I only had to run ten blocks. I got to her house out of breathe, just as her Mom was closing the door to their pretty little white house with a small picket hence all around the house. I held my breathe as I pushed the doorbell with its own special musical chimes. I was later told that the music was, "be it ever so simple there is no place like home."

A beautiful women came to the door, and she was the exact replica of her daughter Daisy, blue eyes and blonde hair and skin that seemed so thin and translucent. She seemed a little mad and said, "Yes, what do you want?" I said, "I am Fred" like it should have some very special meaning. Oddly enough, she said, "Oh you are Daisy's little friend?" I said, "Little? I am taller than she is?" A second later I heard Daisy call out to her Mom, "Mom, Fred is my friend, let him in." Her Mom was not happy, but she led me into Daisy's home where she was on an oxygen mask, lying on the couch, watching cartoons on television. I stopped short at the door
to the living room when I saw Daisy hooked up to machines. I said, "What is wrong with you?" All she said was I am sick and need to have oxygen before and after school and take these medicines." All I said was, "Oh, OK, I understand" But I really did not understand.

Her mother, Grace said, "I am glad that I got a chance to meet you. Daisy keeps talking about her friend Fred at school, and it has made a big difference in her since you two have become friends" I said I do not understand what you are saying?" She said, "Since Daisy has met you, she seems to be getting better?" I said, "OK, Great" So Daisy and I sat on the couch and had chocolate milk and chocolate chip cookies and all was right in the world. I started to come over to Daisy's house after school and the bus driver let me ride the bus to Daisy's house. Daisy's mom now encouraged me to come to her house as much as I wanted, because she said it made Daisy sparkle.
I asked Daisy where her Dad was, and she got a sad look on her face and said, "When I got sick he and My Mom split up?" I thought was pretty strange, but I was told never to question adults.

Well in summer, my family and I went to our Summer home in Warwick Neck, Rhode Island called Rocky Point Park. We owned the home, but leased the land. It was so big, that three of my aunts
and uncles and their children all had their own sections of the beach house. It was great. Daisy and I were allowed to talk daily. Towards the end of the Summer, Daisy had to go to the Boston Children's hospital and I did not hear from her for a week. My Mom and Dad were waiting for me when I got back from the beach and said that the three of us were going back to the city for an event and I had to put my Sunday suit on. I said without question OK.

So after I showered and put on my best Sunday suit, the three of us went to Heroux's Funeral Home only about five blocks from my house. I was accustomed to Aunt's and Uncle's that I never knew that died so this was not unusual for me. When we got out of the car, and I asked, "Mom who died? She only said, "Daisy is here?"
I said, "Great, I have not seen her all summer and have so much to tell her." She yelled for me to stop, but I just ran in and looked around to find Daisy? I then found her mother, Grace and a tall man standing next to her with a bunch of old people standing in a line. I asked Grace's mom, "Where is Daisy?" She turned her head to the right, and in a small white coffin, was Daisy, in her favorite blue dress with her gloved hands folded over her. All of the wind went out of me, and my Mom and Dad caught up with me just as I started to slide to the floor. They half held and half carried me to the thing that you kneel on before the coffin, and while my parents prayed, I took the blue ribbon that Daisy gave me, and put it across her forehead, where I kissed her good-bye. I heard her Mom yell, "Daisy" and along with just about everybody in the room they all started crying and screaming. I ran from the room and never went back into that Funeral Home again. Children of Special needs should be included and not segregated by themselves.