Ian is in a great, new school. The staff at his special education kindergarten is working very hard to improve his speech. I’m so happy with the program that I’m rethinking my prior commitment to inclusion. I just had a meeting with his school, because he has already met all of his yearly goals. (Thanks for the link, Dave. I’ll write a post about it next week.)

His teachers often use worksheets for reading and speech. Ian is supposed to identify an object and explain what that object is used for. The problem is that the worksheets assume that kids come in contact with a mom who’s a good housekeeper. Someone who sews holes in their jeans, instead of tossing them out and buying a new pair. Someone who cooks nice meals and protects her clothes with an apron. Someone who regularly sweeps and mops the floor, instead of leaving it for the cleaning lady. Someone who irons shirts, instead of dropping them off at the drycleaner. Poor Ian doesn’t have one of those moms.

As his therapists drill Ian with new words and phrases, he’s coming across completely alien objects. Needles, thread, thimbles, mops, irons, aprons, dusters. What is that weird shit?

Objects that Ian is familiar with: takeout menus, wine bottles, cell phones, Blackberries, computers, scanners, color-coded calendars, remotes, drive through windows, and game systems.