When I first heard this song, I had just started teaching Middle School Choir. It was not going well. The kids didn’t get me. Quite frankly, they didn’t like me. I am not ashamed to say I got down on my knees and prayed the Lord would “take this cup away from me” on several occasions. Every person from whom I sought advice kept telling me to be tougher. Meaner. Harder. I tried my darndest, really, but I’m not a whistle blowing, stoic-faced punisher. The kids knew it was all a façade, and ate me alive on a daily basis. Eventually I did have to adopt some new practices and develop a discipline plan, but I realized I gotta be me! I had to make things work as my authentic self, and the kids were just going to have to learn to trust a perky white lady who tears up when they sing. I am now comfortable being animated and loving in front of my Li’l Waynes Mini- Nikki Minage’s in training. I jump and “yippee!” when my students create harmony, and I throw kisses at them when they remember to enunciate. They may think I’m crazy, but never a push-over and never boring. In fact, it's crunk up in there! And I'm a great teacher. Everything I’m not made me everything I am.
When I was in my late twenties, I was engaged to a guy who looked good on paper. Ever had one of those? Well, I thought I needed to look good on paper, too, so I stuck with him even though little by little, he chiseled away at my self-esteem. I was a bottomless pit of forgiveness and thought that being faithful meant always coming back for more. Well, finally he cheated, and I drew the line. Breaking off the engagement was a struggle, because I wanted to embody the loyalty he did not. But, I just couldn’t get over what he’d done. I simply could not imagine looking across the dinner table at a weasel for the rest of my life. So, I don't. Since I took up with Big Daddy, the only things I have to get over are his cursing at soccer on Saturdays, and the fact that he’s a bit of an over-tipper to service personnel. So, it is with the utmost honor and gratitude that I tell you that I am the wife of a Swell Guy. Everything I’m not made me everything I am.
When H-Man was diagnosed with autism, I researched diets, chelation (a therapy to remove heavy metals from the body), and scrambled for a way that Big Daddy and I might possibly make H NOT autistic. When all of those fad treatments were de-bunked, I began to focus on doing what we could to APPEAR not autistic. When he would flap his hands and make noises in public I would hug him tightly and whisper, “You’re all right, honey, you’re all right. Be still. Hands down. Nice hands. No spinning.” Once, a man next to us at a fast food restaurant asked, “What’s wrong with him?” I don’t think this man meant any harm. He was probably just being human and thought I needed some help. The poor guy didn’t know that my well was just about full then, and this moment made me lose my cool. “There is absolutely NOTHING wrong with him! He’s WONDERFUL! He’s PERFECT! He just doesn’t talk much and this is how he communicates that he’s excited!” I was loud. Louder than H-Man, on purpose. I didn’t want everyone to look at him. I wanted them to look at me. Let me be the one they’re staring at for a change. I was just so tired of people noticing his differences, and it made me angry that strangers might feel sorry for me or my sweet, amazing boy when I walk the world knowing that he is beyond fabulous. Being the Mom to any kid is a journey. Every child has special needs of some sort. By grace, good humor, a wonderful family, and by following my boy's lead, I have come to embrace and celebrate H-Man's differences. He's autistic. He is not wearing a t-shirt about it, but people can probably tell. He's not very quiet. He's not very still. He may not know when you’re talking to him, and he can’t really articulate to you there’s a stone in his shoe and that's why he's uncomfortable. He's the one skipping backward. (He has been able to do this as long as we remember.) He is the one who reeeeeeeally likes the carousel. He can be entertained by reading for a long wait at a restaurant because he likes books to the point of obsession. ( A parent's dream!) He is the one whose shirt is still clean at the end of the day because he's careful, precise, and neat. His face isn’t very expressive, but because of this he looks soft and angelic with a glow that makes strangers gasp, “Oh, my, he’s beautiful!” (Some stares are completely understandable). He is gorgeous. In every way. Everything he's not made him everything he is.Coming full circle is a wonderful thing. I have found that when I listen to my instincts and accept who I am, those around me become comfortable with my various “isms.” When I respect my own differences, I am able to project to the world that I’m worthy of respect. I’m not saying that we should live and die by the perceptions of others, but it is a social world. I think that connections are the reasons we were put on this planet together. That belief is confirmed with every class that H-Man is enrolled in, any sport he tries, and anyone he meets. They are gifts to him, as he is to them. I hope to instill in H-Man that bringing out the best in others means being yourself. Being real. Being every freaking thing that you are.
Listen to Kanye West - Everything I'm Not Made Me Everything I Am
