MSI Press Blog

  At as early an age as I can remember, Shane had a heightened sense of fairness. And, if something was not fair (in his mind, at least), nothing could persuade him to accept it. As he grew into adulthood and took on supervisory positions, that sense of fairness blended with strong logic (which underlay his sense of fairness all along). Case in point: Grade 5. Recess In home room, Shane's teacher, Mrs. D, had trouble one morning quieting down one row of kids. It was the row that quiet, introverted Shane sat in. Finally, in exasperation, she told the class that the kids in Shane's row had to stay in at recess for punishment. Shane raised his hand, and the ensuing conversation went like this: Shane: That does not include me; I was not being noisy. Mrs. D.: It does include you; you are in that row. Shane: I do not accept your inclusion of me; I did not choose to be in this row; you put me here. Mrs. D.: Discussion over. The entire row stays in at recess. At recess, the row of kids...

  Doah’s mind often worked in ways that startled me—sometimes funny, sometimes profound, always his own. His mental challenges meant he processed the world differently, but that difference often revealed truths I might have missed. 💰 The Nickels When Doah was five or six, nickels were his treasure. He loved to collect them, roll them up, and march proudly to the bank to exchange them for “real” money. Anyone giving him a gift—birthday, holiday, or otherwise—knew to tuck in a few nickels. And if he spotted one on the ground, it was pure delight. He prized those nickels as if they were gold. A few weeks later, we were on a plane—I can’t even remember now where we were returning from—sitting in the middle two seats of a bulkhead row. The man on the aisle beside Doah noticed how awkward the bulkhead could be: overhead bins opening and closing, trays swinging out of armrests, all the little inconveniences that make travel taxing for a child. He was kind and solicitous, helping us ...