So, it’s Wednesday. I’m at work and the power just went out so I figure I’d use this time to update my blog!! Hello pups. How goes it? Hope you’re all staying warm/cool/dry/happy!

Just wanted to fill y’all in on a few things..

So, recently I’ve been chatting with a friend about a project I’ve been working on…and it’s something I’ve been slowly putting together for ten years now.

I know what you’re thinking…how can you be working on something that long and not have finished it? Well, simply put..I didn’t realise at the time I started, it was going to turn into such a huge undertaking. He suggested I should write out, snippets of things while I work on them. So, here is one.

Guess I should explain myself a little. You see, I’m primarily a poet, but I do have a passionate desire to write a few full length books. The first book I hope to complete, it is going to be a nonfiction piece. An educational book of sorts, that’s the hope at least. I am hoping to put together a book about my experience as a child, growing up in the special needs program.
My entire school career, I was in the special needs program. Albeit, a high functioning member…but a member none the less. In my later school years, I became more of an aid to my teachers and case worker, as I needed less assistance.

So, I had been able to observe several things that weighed on my mind, and heart, for years after.
Our education system in America is lacking. A lot.

The amount of children with differentiating educational needs is vast and diverse, yet the methods we “teach” these children with, aren’t. There are only a few classifications for special needs children in this country, but thousands of different special needs that are not being catered to.

I am going to start a small series here on my blog whilst I compile my resources and hopefully finish the book. I encourage you, reader, to share your stories with me, if you have any. I want to know how being in a special needs program, or knowing someone in a special needs program, impacted your life.

I will start here.

When I was a child, learning how to talk, I was an absolute chatterbox. My mother would always say I had a vast and extensive vocabulary for a child younger than 3. However, when I entered preschool, I no longer was a chatterbox.

I became silent, scared and unresponsive to my fellow students, teachers, even my mum when she was with me in a school or public setting. I would sit, rigidly, and stare at my hands or the ground. I did not play with other children, or partake in group activities. Nothing. I would sit, in a corner or at my desk..alone. I had seemingly shut down. So, my mum took me to see a doctor. She had become concerned for me. I was diagnosed with a social anxiety disorder called Selective Mutism. For those of you, whom may be shaking your head and going, “Emily…what are you talking about?” Here is the best, short description of SM, I could find.  –

Selective mutism (SM) is an anxiety disorder, in which a person who is normally capable of speech, does not speak in specific situations or to specific people. Selective mutism usually co-exists with shyness or social anxiety. People with selective mutism stay silent even when the consequences of their silence include shame, social ostracism or even punishment.

(I will refer to Selective Mutism as SM from now on to save myself some time.)

Now, it is very important for me to say that I was diagnosed with SM, early and subsequently treated for it, as best as was known how at the time.(Keep in mind, this was 1995..) What was known about SM back then, was very little. Therefore the options were limited.

Once I started primary school, I was sent to the schools speech therapist. She was a huge part of the reason I am able to “function” like a normal person…most days. She would take me out of class twice a week, and work with me, one on one, on small exercises to get me to speak to her in a conversational manner. It took some time, but I eventually was able to invite a friend or two to sit in with us. We would play games and I would be encouraged to interact with my classmates during that time.

Over the course of a few years, it was determined that, for me personally…school wasn’t the stressor..rather the crowds. Large, loud crowds scared me. (Still do, just not to that extreme extent.) I was teased for being nonverbal, and therefore I was recoiling from social interaction even more.

Okay, that’s enough for today…next time hopefully I can go into elaborate detail, since hopefully I’ll be on my laptop and not on mobile.(My thumbs hurt.)

I hope you have a wonderful Wolf Wednesday pups! I love you! xxx 💓💋🐺🐾🐾🌙