Dear Coach...From Your 5 Year Old "Special Needs" Team Player

I view all of my children as “special.”  They each have their own unique personality, strengths, likes and dislikes.  I have so appreciated over the years how their teachers, coaches, and other adults in their life have challenged them broadly, but also catered to them personally.

My youngest child is about to embark on the adventure of “formal education.”  He has been involved with Early Intervention and a preschool that really catered to his personal needs.  Beginning Monday, however, he will officially join a class of 20-ish other kindergartners in our neighborhood public school.  Some of his needs are “special,” too, but in a different way than our other children.

He struggles with sensory processing disorder, hyperactivity as well as the life-long effects from his birth mother’s alcoholic drinking while pregnant with him.  While he has several factors to overcome just being a 5 year old boy in school, he will also need to learn how to manage in a classroom that is full of multiple sensory distractions and instructions that his brain may take longer to fully process and apply.

But he is still a child, regardless of the specifications of why he has “special needs.”  And he longs to be loved and accepted for who he is.

Yesterday, I watched him struggle through his first ever flag football practice.  Out of all our children, he is the one with a “football build,” and when he wants to, he can be incredibly fast!  Given time, patience and a variety of ways of teaching him the fundamentals of football, I think he could become a great player.

Yesterday, his primary coaches were unable to make it to the first practice, so he had two “stand-in coaches.”  They were very nice and clearly loved football.  But they were unprepared to meet the needs of my sensory-challenged little player.

There have been several moments throughout his life where I have seen up-close the effects of his birth mother’s choices during her pregnancy with him.  Yesterday was one of those monumental days.  It got me thinking about not only his special needs, but also the needs of other children in his situation or one like it.

In order to help me process the thoughts and feelings I had while watching my son struggle to participate in this football practice with his peers, I wrote a letter that could be for any of his coaches, teachers or other adult mentors.  The letter is written from what I imagine would be my son’s perspective, could he verbalize these thoughts, feelings and observations. While the letter is specific to my child, it really could apply to a broad spectrum of children…

                Dear Coach,

                I had a lot of fun at my practice yesterday!  I loved playing with all my new friends.  But did you notice that some things were really hard for me?

                To begin with, I had never met you before and then you kept telling me what I needed to do.  It is hard for me to follow multiple-step directions and everything you had us do was like that.

                Everything was new for me and I really needed some time to take it all in.  But you didn't give us any time, you just started the practice.  The field was new to me.  And I really didn't understand what all the lines were for and which one you wanted me to run to.  Once I finally figured out where you wanted me to run, you decided to have me run somewhere else!

                I only knew one of my teammates before the practice, so I had to adjust to all new people.  And while everyone else seemed just fine getting on with the practice, I was distracted by so many things.  I was wearing cleats for the first time and that felt really funny.  I liked them, but I needed some time to learn how to run in them. 

                And that mouth guard…I don’t know how anyone can put that in their mouth and not keep taking it out.  It felt weird.  It was hard to talk with it in my mouth.  All those times you told me to put it back in and quit playing with it – I tried, but I just couldn’t ignore it in my mouth!

                Whenever you had us sit on the grass, I had trouble sitting still.  The sun was in my eyes and I couldn’t see very well.  The grass was dry and pokey and kept hurting my leg.  There were gnats flying around me and I had trouble ignoring them.  And it was hot. Really hot.  And I was sweating.  Really sweating.  My face was all wet from it and it kept running down my cheeks and that bothered me, too.

                And we did so much running.  Back and forth, again and again.  I could not get the point of it all.  And I was hot and thirsty.  So thirsty.  But you would not let us go to our Mommy and get a drink every time we needed it.  You said, “You will be fine, just wait a few more minutes. “  But I wasn’t fine!  My mouth was so dry and it was hard to think of anything else!

                Do you remember the time I told you and the team, “I have a great idea! Let’s just stop all this running and go to my house and watch TV together!”  When I said that, I was not trying to be disrespectful, just trying to make a suggestion for how things could be more fun.

                You kept making suggestions, too, like telling me to watch the ball, hold it tight, run faster, concentrate more, stand up and on and on and on. You spent a lot of time telling me what to do and correcting me.  I don’t even remember you telling me I did a good job with anything!

 I just felt like it might have been a good idea for us all to do something more fun together!  And when I said, “Can I just go home now and get in my pool,” I wasn't trying to be mean or interrupt you.  I was just hot and tired.  And I love to feel the cool water on me when I am feeling so sweaty.  I wasn't trying to tell you I did not want to be on the team, I just needed a break at that moment.

And do you remember that last drill, the one where you said, “Okay boys, this is our last running practice.  If you want to be a participating member of this team, go run over to the hill and back as fast as you can.  If you don’t want to, well then, don’t.”  I was so relieved that you gave us the option to run again or not run.  I realize none of the other boys sat like I did.  And you seemed irritated by me (kind of like you did for most of the practice).  But by then, I was just super tired and hot!

So, well, I just wanted to let you know that I had a fun first practice, even though I was really hot and thirsty.  I hope you like me.  I know I have some “special needs,” but to be honest, a lot of times I don’t feel very special.  And if you don’t really know me, you will probably think I am just a trouble maker.   

I hope next practice you will realize how hard I am trying and you will find me doing something right!

Love,

Your 5 Year Old “Special Needs” Team Player