MSI Press Blog

When we moved to California, we had to find the right school for Doah. He had specific learning issues. He had certain behavioral issues, and he had certain physical issues. The automatic placement by a school system tends to be the course of least resistance, not always the best course for the child. Lizzie visited every classroom that might have been selected for Doah, once we learned that the planned one certainly did not meet our expectations. She found the ideal classroom and a very talented teacher, who happened to be the wife of the superintendent, but it was not on the normal bus route for our neighborhood. We met with the superintendent and a special education committee. Our point was that if they were going to have to send a bus to our house anyway, we were already in a non-route, special bus situation, so why could it not take Doah to the program that was most appropriate for him. There was considerable pushback because it was not the way they usually did things.  I took...

  Some people navigate social life with nuance, strategy, and finely tuned emotional radar. Doah is not one of those people. He has never had the cognitive scaffolding or emotional filters that help most of us sort out relationships, hierarchies, or the unwritten rules of “oughts” and “shoulds.” Instead, he moves through the world with a kind of joyful directness—simple, sincere, and utterly unencumbered by social categories. Which is how he greets his primary care physician. The moment we step into the hallway, Doah takes off at full speed, arms flung wide, shouting, “My doctor! My doctor!” before slamming into the poor man with a full‑body hug. His PCP—an introverted, elderly gentleman who looks like he might faint if someone so much as waves at him—stiffens, blushes, and then awkwardly pats Doah’s back. But he likes it. I can tell he likes Doah very much. School was no different. Doah never distinguished between the “in” crowd and the “others.” He didn’t recognize social cliques...