Our daughter is non-verbal, wheelchair-bound, and fully aware of everything around her. We always made sure she attended school because we wanted her to have friends, stimulation, and as normal a life as possible.
One year, she suddenly became withdrawn and depressed. We visited the school several times, and each time she appeared fine—sitting with other kids, doing activities, or outside during recess. We assumed the problem was medical or emotional.
When summer arrived, she bounced back. We had no idea why.
Later, while shopping for supplies for the new school year, we ran into the teacher’s aide from the previous year. After a few minutes of conversation, she became visibly upset and said she needed to tell us something.
She confessed she couldn’t live with herself if she stayed silent.
Our daughter had been left in the corner of the classroom all day, her wheelchair brakes locked so she couldn’t move. She wasn’t allowed to join the other children for art, music, or group work. During recess, she was sometimes pushed outside, but even then, she was left alone by the wall.
The teacher hid all of this from us. Whenever she saw us coming, she would rush our daughter into the middle of whatever activity was happening to make it look like she was included.
The aide was emotional as she told us. I stood there shaking with rage. My daughter had been neglected right in front of us, and we never saw it.
We immediately transferred her to a new school. I told the administration exactly what had happened and made it clear that if anything like this ever occurred again, I would sue the district and every individual responsible.
Her new teacher had tears in her eyes as I explained what had been done. She promised to protect and include our daughter every day, and she kept her word. She remains a friend to us to this day.
What still haunts me is this: if I hadn’t had resources, connections, and a loud enough voice, the system would have buried this. Families without those tools get steamrolled. It happens every day. And it nearly happened to us.
