As I reflected on today’s prayer, I immediately thought of and cringed at my first few years as a speech language pathologist (SLP) working in special education classrooms.
In grad school, I learned all about therapy group management and how to get “difficult” students to comply with my “brilliant” lesson plans. I learned about Autism and weaknesses associated with Autism and how to help these children appear less Autistic.
My students were meeting their goals, but something was off. I wasn’t enjoying working with my students. To be honest, I wasn’t really enjoying my students. As soon as a new opportunity arose, I jumped ship. I took a year off of being an SLP to work in a church.
During that year, I had time to reflect on what the difference was between working with kids in church versus working with them in schools. One child in particular jump-started this reflection. One of my favorite kids to come to Sabbath School was Jayden*. Jayden stood out a little from the other kindergartners, he wore a helmet, was loud, and very active. When Jayden came to Sabbath School, anything could happen and I loved it. He broke up the monotony of routine. He would say exactly what he felt, whenever he felt it, in whatever tone or volume would communicate the urgency of the message. I admired his boldness and the way he was so present with his emotions. If he liked something, we knew it. If he disapproved of any activity, we knew it. Life with Jayden was vibrant.
After one particularly fun Sabbath with Jayden, I reflected on why I enjoyed him so much and why I had a different relationship with students like him at school. With Jayden, I didn’t really care if he participated “perfectly” in my Sabbath School lesson, if he was sitting in his chair, or paying attention while pacing in the back of the room. I only cared that he knew he was so very loved and that he belonged.
In true belonging, one is loved and seen. I was able to let go of any sense of control I had over my Sabbath School class to really see “my kids” and love them. I allowed myself to let go of perfectly-sitting students participating with perfectly-raised hands. I allowed myself to be in a loud, boisterous, sometimes chaotic room to allow my students to all belong. I allowed myself to really see all of Jayden. Not just his helmet and outbursts, but the way he was so present to his needs and those around him. The way he lit up and moved, unable to contain his joy and how infectious his joy was to those around him.
When I decided to go back to the school setting as an SLP, I knew something had to change. I had begun to lean into learning from Autistic voices on social media. I learned about sensory needs and using sensory supports in my therapy sessions instead of “compliance”-based strategies. I changed my approach to therapy. I let go of my need for control to really allow myself to see my students and how they learn best. There was a lot more play, mess, and “chaos,” and less sitting at the table.
I care if my students are competent communicators, but I care more that they feel true belonging. I care that they feel seen and loved for exactly who they are. The prayer is exactly this lesson, letting go of my need for control, so that I can love others exactly for who they are.
*Named changed for confidentiality
Caiti Lopez is grateful that she and her family have found true Belonging at La Sierra University Church.
These reflections stand alone, but if you want to enjoy the prayers from May It Be So that they’re based on, please click here to request a copy of the book.