
Last year I had a first hurt. I found a picture on Facebook of all Maggie’s friends at a birthday party she hadn’t been invited to. Cry!
Sometimes the depth of my grief over what seems to be a pebble in “the road of life with a special needs child” surprises me. How could stepping on such a little thing hurt so badly? I shake my head in wonder as the tears flow.
Just the other day one of Maggie’s little next-door friends said to me, in her frustration of not being able to play with Maggie in ways that she wanted to, “I wish Maggie didn’t have cerebral palsy.” Her comment sucked the air out of my lungs, and I was speechless. What should I think about this, about her? I didn’t know.
We’ve always homeschooled Maggie. Soon she’ll be going to public school for the first time in her life. In fact, she’ll go to a school that currently doesn’t have a child with her sort of disability. I’m expecting that we’ll be stepping on lots of those painful little pebbles in this part of our path. Maybe there will be some rocks I crack my shins against, or a boulder that crushes me.
For this reason I’ve been considering this strange land we all have to tread when the “typical” and the “special” intersect.

There was a time when I was one of “them” and lived in the “typical world”—when I didn’t have a special needs child, when I didn’t even know any special needs people. If I crossed the path of someone different I stared, I stumbled, I felt unsure and didn’t know what the heck to do with him. Should I ask what was wrong with him? Should I talk to her, or should I talk to her caregiver? Should I just pretend that I didn’t notice anything different? What would be the wrong thing to say? What if I couldn’t understand what he said back to me? Might they hurt me? Might I hurt them? Could I catch what they had? I felt afraid, I felt awkward, I felt stupid.
I have a lot of compassion for “them.”
As we prepare to enter this place of intersection in earnest, I’ve come to the conclusion that Maggie and I are going to be We Sherpas. What’s a We Sherpa, you ask?
A Sherpa has come to be known as someone who guides another along a challenging journey. A Sherpa takes upon themselves the heaviest burdens of the expedition. A Sherpa understands their traveling companion may be inexperienced, awkward, and fearful as they walk through territory that is not their native country, and they are patient with that.
The “We” part of the equation is a conscious decision about how we are going to walk in this world. A world of only “us” (those who get it) and “them,” (those who don’t) is really only a world of ME. The “We” means we’re going to leave the path of ME, and walk the path of WE. (see Anasazi’s, The Seven Paths: Changing One’s Way of Walking in the World)
When it comes to people’s insensitivities, or ignorance about our special kids, here’s why choosing to be a We Sherpa matters so much.
If we want inclusion and compassion for our children, we have to be willing to pick up the other end of that stick.
When someone speaks insensitively or ignorantly, when they stare, when they don’t include, or worse, exclude, the We Sherpa simply sees them as a traveler who needs a guide to help them walk this uncharted territory. The We Sherpa bears the larger burden of reaching out, of inviting, of educating, of creating opportunity, of giving the benefit of the doubt, and of forgiving. The We Sherpa puts an arm around their shoulder and invites them onto the path. They may decline. And, for those who accept there will be the inevitable stepping on toes as we learn to walk together. We Sherpas accept that.
Seth Godin said it best. “The easiest thing is to react. The second easiest is to respond. But the hardest thing is to initiate.”
I’ll keep having these painful “firsts.” And, I’m learning to own my own grief. But, I’m going to choose to walk a path of WE.
When someone clumsily stumbles into us with insensitivity or ignorance, Maggie and I are going to scoot over, invite them to walk with us, and help them over the rocky places of fear, awkwardness, and unfamiliarity.
It’s true. We’re better, together.

By the way, if you’d like to see our latest effort to We Sherpa, check out Maggie’s introductory video HERE, or on YouTube by searching “My New Friend Maggie.”