Two Black Parents of an Undiagnosed Child Walk Into a Meeting: On Race, Special Education, and Our Son’s IEP
I’m not just advocating for a child whose challenges don’t follow a script. I’m also a black mother advocating for my black son in a room full of people who don’t look like us.
That appointment, three months ago now, confirmed a shift for us—away from the search for medical answers. We can monitor Tophs’s blood sugar levels and keep an eye on his growth. We can check his enzyme levels with a blood draw or X-ray his bones to determine their age. But our focus now centers on his developmental and educational needs.
Okay,their game, their rules.
Can you imagine if that had been a brutha? They would have taken a white man to Burger King. talk
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Not knowing happens to all mothers, and to all of us—if we are breathing, we are without escape from things we can’t know.
I Underwent Genetic Testing to Help My Son, and Discovered I Have an Increased Risk of Breast Cancer
What if my son, the boy who has puzzled everyone, has helped to save my life?
How many days had we spent asking the same questions of God or doctors? How long had we wrestled with conditions that didn’t yet exist?
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As a mother, I’ve had to ask myself: What would never getting an answer, or even no longer expecting an answer, look like?
Hafu carries insinuations of otherness; of not belonging, but being fetishized. How do I carry this name and this history at once?