I have so many things I want to write about, and so little time to capture my thoughts these days it seems. But there are things that I should have documented earlier, and didn’t get around to, and today I wanted to share some of those.
June 24 was MacGregor Collegiate Institute graduation for the class of 2010. It will go down in history as one of the hardest, hardest days I will ever endure. It was the day that Shane should have graduated with his peers. It was a day I’d long dreamed of, seeing him sitting up there on the stage amongst them. IT was a day that never came for him….but it did for me, and I hope that because of that, he was there, he was in the room and on the stage and in the hearts of all that graduated with him. The school and graduates invited us to be part of all that went on that day, and it was an honor to be included.
I’d been racking my brain since last summer about how to pay tribute to these amazing young people, who had had such significant roles in the life he was able to live. I didn’t want the day to slip by without somehow acknowledging the contributions that each of them had made, and finally, weeks before the day, it came to me. I was sitting at my desk, puzzling yet again, and I looked up at the beautiful glass Inukshuk that proudly sits at the edge of the shelf, watching over me. Of course!! Inukshuks are so symbolic of what I wanted to say…’someone passed this way’….I emailed Sheila Kornago of Stained Glass by Sheila and asked if it were possible to have 52 of them made in the 5 weeks between my thinking of them and the graduation. She said she certainly could, and my dilemma was solved.
I’d also been discussing my dilemma with my sister and my brother in law, who is very involved in the construction of the new Canadian Museum for Human Rights. They decided to also contribute a museum pin to each of Shane’s classmates, so appropriate.
I was lucky also, that as I annually present the Shane Dickson Memorial award for Inclusion, that the staff at MCI gave me the time and support needed to present the gifts and address Shane’s classmates. The address went as follows:
“As you can imagine, today is probably one of the toughest days I will face, and even though it saddens me not to see Shane sitting there amongst you on this special occasion, I know he is standing here beside me with his arm around my shoulder….propping me up, cheering you on, and hooting with pride for all of you, his fellow classmates! I too am so proud to have been given the opportunity to address this very, very special class as you head out into your new lives. You leave here a class of students, but you’re already a class of citizens who has changed rules and boundaries through your actions and acceptance of a young man, who was fortunate enough to have had the opportunity to be educated along side of you.
I hope each of you leave this stage of your lives knowing the difference you have made in countless lives, most of which we may never know of. When you started school 13 years ago, alongside a child who did everything differently, you showed how very little differences truly matter. I know that there were people that questioned Shane being supported to be educated alongside children who didn’t face the monumental challenges he did, and I have anonymous letters to prove that. However, your supports and friendships gave him what he needed to live life fully, and you gave this Mom’s dreams for her son wings to fly. I don’t know how many of you know this, but the example you all set and the experience you provided for Shane has been shared around the world. It even became part of the department of education’s paper to present at last year’s Inclusion Summit in Spain. And every day, it continues to give hope to parents of other children with special needs, as they start their unique journey. I am so proud of and grateful to each of you.
To recognize your accomplishment, I have a small gift for each of you that I will hand out as you pass me after receiving your diploma. It includes a inukshuk that I hope you will find a place for in your lives ahead. Inukshuk means “stone man that points the way” Their purpose was to show directions and guide the way. They stand as a symbol of the importance of friendship and to remind us of our dependence on one another. I hope it will remind you of the valued piece you played in pointing the way towards full inclusion for a fellow classmate.
Shane’s aunt and uncle, have also provided each of you with a ‘Shine’ pin from the Canadian Museum for Human Rights. The verse says “there is a star born in each of us when we open our minds to let in the light. When we brighten a darkened path. When we see our reflection in each other. We Shine.” You have shone brightly, each and every one of you. I hope you always continue to do so.”
Of course, part of the day involved presenting the award. I’ve left it up to the staff at MCI to decide who merits it. When Shane was there, and I was actively involved I may have been more able to suggest, but now I feel they are the ones that must decide. I was so happy this year when they chose Trem Cleaver! Trem had been best friends with Shane since they were 4 years old, and I believe he is such a big part of Shane having been accepted as one of the gang. His acceptance of Shane for who was encouraged others to do the same, and I know it made a huge difference in everything Shane got to experience. I felt absolutely no guilt in handing that award to Shane’s best friend, as I know he will continue to live his life making differences for others, just as he did for Shane.
I got a text from Trem a few weeks ago, wanting to talk to me. He wondered if it was okay with me that he planned to get a tattoo, his first, and he wanted it to be Shane’s initials and the years of his life. Wow…what could I say, but of course? Shane would be thrilled, and my eyes teared knowing that throughout all of Trem’s years, questions will be asked about what that tattoo means, and Shane will be remembered and shared as he tells people. What a great tribute. How times have changed….100 years ago he may have lived and died and been buried in an unmarked grave, because children with his needs were viewed and valued differently. Today his life is celebrated on his best friend’s ribs, and in the memories of all that knew him. Things are definitely better.
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