JOINING THE MAINSTREAM
The most common recommendation given to us by the Christian school administrators was to have Nick attend a public segregated school for disabled students. In the past, the government had supported a segregated educational environment to provide an education while meeting the unique needs of these children. These schools received special funding from the government to educate special-needs children. They were all wheelchair and handicap accessible. The teachers were specially trained for special-needs kids. This was an easy option for them to suggest, but we could not accept it.
We did not want Nick to be placed in a school that was strictly for disabled kids. On paper it made sense. In reality it just didn’t work for us. We felt that environment would not be in Nick’s best interests over the long term. After our visit to the Yooralla school for the disabled, we had decided we did not want Nick to attend that type of school because of the segregated environment. Nick had taught us from an early age that his disabilities did not define him. He refused to accept limits on his life, and we weren’t about to stifle his independent and positive spirit. Sooner or later, Nick would have to live and work among the general population. Our feeling was the more he learned to deal with the real world, the better. Children are much more adaptable than adults. We thought Nick would find a way to fit in.
Because Nick had already experienced some rejection, we realized that in a public school he might well have to deal with prejudice, taunting, and bullying. We had great concerns about that, of course, but every child deals with those things to some degree. At some point, you have to let them venture from the nest and figure out how to exist in the world.
We knew we had to be strong. Parents can’t protect their children from every possible hurt, as much as we might like to. Well-meaning social workers and educators told us Nick would fit best in the schools designed for special-needs kids. We decided to reject their advice and go with our instincts—and Nick’s yearning for a normal life. He wanted to be accepted as a regular kid.
Over the years we consulted experts and listened to their advice, but Nick is so unique that often the standard rules and approaches did not apply. No two children are alike. Doctors, social workers, and psychologists tend to pin labels on them and then apply treatments accordingly. They didn’t take into account Nick’s determination and his ability to rise above the expectations of others. We wanted to give him the opportunity to thrive in the mainstream, so we began searching for a suitable public school in our area.
PARENT ACTIVISTS
After decades of segregating special-needs students, Australia was just beginning to open its mainstream schools to the disabled. Public schools were cleared to accept them, but many were not yet equipped with ramps, handicap restrooms, and other necessary features. Dushka and I became activists on Nick’s behalf, lobbying the Department of Education to provide funds for teachers’ aides and to allow volunteers in the classroom for special-needs kids.
Through the efforts of many people, the doors of public schools were opened. Nick became a member of the first class of special-needs students allowed to attend regular public schools in our district. The next challenge was finding a school able to accommodate him.
We checked out several established elementary schools, but once again, we found their administrators and staff were not encouraging. Despite the national mainstreaming movement, they claimed they were not yet equipped to handle a wheelchair student with no limbs.
Finally one of our relatives recommended a newly constructed primary school in a new residential development in northwest Melbourne. The school was Keilor Downs, and it had been built to meet the needs of mainstreamed disabled and special-needs students. Classrooms were on one level with ramp access for wheelchairs, wide hallways, and accessible restrooms.
This was an exciting discovery for us on several fronts. The school was the first we’d found that was so well suited for Nick and his wheelchair, and the surrounding Keilor Downs neighborhood had lots for new-home construction that were within our price range. Our home at the time was an older place that wasn’t suited for Nick’s wheelchair anyway because it had stairs and narrow hallways.
We decided if Keilor Downs Elementary School accepted Nick, we would build a new house custom designed for his needs and within walking distance of the school. We also liked the fact that this was a brand-new school for all the students, so everyone would be “the new kid” and, hopefully, it would be easier for Nick to make friends and find acceptance.
TEAM NICK
The timing was good because the educational environment was changing. That school year the Victoria state school system allowed thirty-five hundred disabled children to join mainstream classes in one thousand schools. Nick was part of this first wave, which required many adjustments by administrators, teachers, and other parents.
We met with the principal at Keilor Downs, who expressed his support and willingness to admit Nick as a student. He noted that there would be some preparation necessary before he could make it happen. He had to get his teaching staff trained so they could adjust their methods and materials. They would also have to work with the other students and their parents to make sure Nick was welcomed and accepted.
In today’s more open-minded environment, it’s hard to believe some parents expressed concerns that Nick would be a distraction or that he would require so much extra attention that it might take away from the time teachers devoted to their children. Yet there were those who offered those arguments. Fortunately they were in the minority.
There was also government bureaucracy and the inevitable financial considerations to deal with. The local and state education department had to provide adequate funding for a teacher’s aide to assist Nick, as well as a special desk with enough clearance for his wheelchair. The education department conducted an assessment of Nick and his needs, which included a doctor’s evaluation to determine his ability to function in the classroom alongside other students. The school formed a sort of Team Nick committee to pave the way for him. It was comprised of the principal, Nick’s teachers, the teacher’s aide, Dushka, a physician, and a representative from the education department.
We were grateful then and remain thankful today for the Keilor Downs principal and his willingness to take on this challenge. He was a Baptist, by the way. I don’t know if being a Christian influenced his decision. I tend to think he simply had a good heart. Perhaps it was both. Whatever his motivation, we thank God for this man and his decision because even though there were obstacles to overcome, our son thrived in the mainstream environment.
Dushka played a big role as Nick’s chief advocate during his early school years. To handle those duties, she went on a part-time schedule for her nursing job. This cut into our income, but we felt it was best for her to take an active role in Nick’s education. My dad also helped out by coming to our house during the school year to pick up Nick and then drop him off at school whenever we needed his assistance. My mother did her part too, looking after all our kids whenever Dushka and I were working.
GOOD TIMING
As I noted earlier, technological advancements have played such a big role in Nick’s life that I’ve sometimes wondered if God has a branch office in Silicon Valley. This was especially true in his school. The introduction of desktop computers in the classroom was a great benefit. Nick could not hold a book, but he could read a computer screen, and he could type on a keyboard and manipulate a mouse or a joystick with his left foot.
We worked with his teachers to help Nick in the classroom in other ways. Dushka and I used Aquaplast—a moldable plastic material often used in hospitals to create splints—to create a holder for his pens and pencils that fit onto his left foot. He could use it to write and draw with greater ease.
I built a desktop stand that stored his writing materials in a manner that gave Nick easy access to them. It was quite a strain on him to write for lengthy periods, so his teachers’ aides took notes in class for Nic
k. Still, he was able to use his foot to do many tasks. We even improvised a way for him to use scissors. We embedded one side of the scissors handle into the desktop storage container. He could insert papers and press down on the other handle of the scissors to make a cut.
We knew that integrating Nick into the classroom would have its challenges, but the rewards were worth it. Even the simplest classroom activities test the ingenuity and patience of a student with no limbs. Yet with the help and understanding of those around him, Nick persevered.
OUR POSTER CHILD
From the first grade onward, we kept Nick in the mainstream. It wasn’t exactly a sink-or-swim situation because we were always there to support him, but Nick did have to fight to stay afloat sometimes. Fear of rejection by classmates and sometimes impatience from teachers could have caused irreparable damage to our child, yet Nick’s success and achievements in school astounded not only Dushka and me but also his principal, teachers, social workers, and other family members. Even the parents of the other students, whom we feared would see Nick as an unwelcome and even intimidating distraction, came to embrace and celebrate our son.
Again, the credit goes to Nick. He did not hide in a corner of the lunchroom. He reached out to the other kids. He spoke up in class. He made jokes, often at his own expense. He engaged with everyone around him. The same charismatic qualities that would one day lead to his becoming one of the world’s most popular public speakers were emerging, though we weren’t aware at the time.
In the years since Nick first entered the mainstream school population, many parents of disabled kids have told us that our son served as a role model for their kids. Because Nick overcame doubts and won the affection of his classmates and teachers, it became easier and more acceptable for other kids with challenges to follow him. Their parents saw that Nick was accepted and accommodated, so they were more open to allowing their special-needs children to enter the mainstream.
It is no exaggeration to say that Nick became a symbol for the integration of children with disabilities into the education system in Australia. Officials from the Department of Education and state politicians visited Nick’s school to talk with him and his teachers and to observe him interacting with his classmates. Television and newspaper reporters and photographers interviewed him.
This was his first exposure to the media spotlight, and as you might expect, Nick welcomed it like a flower soaks up sunshine. His positive and inspiring attitude blossomed. Dushka and I were delighted that the rest of the world had the opportunity to meet the real Nick. It was quite telling, also, that when Nick spoke to the media, he naturally assumed the role of spokesman and role model for all disabled and special-needs kids.
The government was pouring money into the campaign to mainstream special-needs students. Officials were looking for kids to serve as examples and to speak in support of integration. Nick’s passion and positive messages in the media drew the attention of the Australian Department of Education. The education minister, Joan Kirner, became quite a fan of Nick, which proved to be very helpful. She visited Nick’s school in 1988 and had her photograph taken with Nick for a newspaper article headlined “Trailblazer Nicholas.” Shortly thereafter, the funding to help Victorian schools mainstream Nick and other special-needs students was increased to 3.7 million dollars. Part of that funding was to integrate two more disabled students the next year to follow Nick’s trail. Joan Kirner later became the first woman to hold the position of premier of our state.
In 1991, Nick was named Keilor’s Junior Citizen of the Year for “courage beyond his years” and was also nominated for Young Australian of the Year in 2001. There were other awards, acknowledgments, and recognitions over his school years.
We were grateful that Nick was thought of as a good example for the integration program in Australia’s schools. He handled the attention well. Nevertheless, we had to exercise caution and ensure he kept his ego in check and didn’t become cocky. We became more protective of our privacy and put limits on Nick’s time in the spotlight. There was also a concern about our other kids being in his shadow. It was a unique problem to have—a disabled child becoming a media sensation—so we had to be creative in handling it.
SEEDS PLANTED
None of us had any idea at the time certainly, but these experiences likely planted the seeds for Nick’s public-speaking career. He became very comfortable talking to the media and large groups while offering his views on the value of mainstream education for disabled kids. Later, in the early days of his speaking career, the MacGregor State School principal became a big supporter. He predicted our son would be a great achiever and that one day he would be paid more than ten thousand dollars to speak in public. We took it as a compliment, of course, but found it a little hard to believe at the time. Today Nick’s corporate speaking fees often are considerably more than that amount, so the principal should be credited with his foresight.
Our early decision to actively socialize our son by mainstreaming him and encouraging him to reach out and speak up was already having quite a positive impact, not only on his life but also on the lives of other disabled kids. Nick attended Keilor Downs through the first part of fourth grade, and then we moved from Melbourne to Brisbane, Queensland.
NEW KID IN CLASS
When we left the comfortable life we’d created in Melbourne, Dushka and I worried it would be hard on Nick to leave so many friends and family members behind. One of his teachers warned that his new school might not be as welcoming for Nick, saying, “You don’t know how good you have had it here.”
At first we worried that might be true when we struggled to get Nick accepted in another school. After several failed attempts, we had success at Gold Coast Robina Primary School. Nick felt at home there because his teacher had a disability that required her to be in a wheelchair too. He was there for just one semester, however. He then was transferred to MacGregor State School in Brisbane, which was a much larger school than either Robina or Keilor Downs. The school district moved him because it wanted disabled students in the more modern school designed to accommodate them and their needs.
We had fears initially, but MacGregor proved to be an even better place for our son. This school had a well-established mainstreaming program and other children in wheelchairs too, so Dushka and I didn’t have to be quite so involved in creating a good environment for Nick. Teachers had more experience with adjusting their lesson plans for disabled and special-needs kids. It helped that Nick was no longer the only student in a wheelchair, which made things much easier for him and for us.
Nick has always had a knack for overcoming his loneliness and insecurities by becoming part of a cause greater than himself. Somehow he instinctively figured out that helping others was the best strategy for helping himself. At MacGregor he joined fundraising drives and charitable projects. For one of the fundraisers, Nick and his classmates competed in selling goods door to door, and he became the top salesman in the school.
Joining in on school projects allowed him to get to know the other students and teachers. They learned quickly that while Nick lacked arms and legs, he possessed a keen mind, a terrific sense of humor, and a smile that drew people to him. He managed to win over so many of his fellow students that Nick was elected MacGregor’s school captain in 1995, which is equivalent to being named president of the entire student body.
In that role, Nick led the student council in its effort to raise five thousand dollars for a fitness center at MacGregor, where his name is still displayed on a plaque honoring all former school captains. We found it quite humorous that one of Nick’s campaign platforms was to conduct wheelchair races as a regular school activity. I don’t think he ever delivered on that promise, by the way.
Nick was the first disabled student to lead his classmates at MacGregor. He later achieved a similar honor in high school. That was particularly impressive because that school, Runcorn High School, was in a different school district than his primary school. We had to
send him to Runcorn because the usual high school for MacGregor kids was not wheelchair accessible. As a result, Nick had to start all over, prove himself, and make new friends.
STARTING OVER
When Nick entered Runcorn, he was once again placed in the role of new kid. All his primary school friends went to another high school. Nick had three things working against him in his new environment: he was the unknown kid, he had an unusual body, and he was in a wheelchair.
Public acceptance of disabled students has come a long way since Nick’s high school years. He has played a big role in changing those perceptions by speaking at schools around the world and posting inspiring videos popular with young people. Unfortunately, back in his high school days, it wasn’t considered cool to hang out with “the wheelchair kid.” His new classmates saw Nick’s limbless body and the big bulky wheelchair and they made all sorts of negative assumptions about him. Poor Nick had already gone through this process of proving himself and making friends repeatedly. We couldn’t blame him for feeling discouraged at first.
Nick has written and talked about his struggles to fit in during his early high school years. Until recently, Dushka and I hadn’t known that he’d gone so far as to take up cursing because he thought it would help him win acceptance with a group of “cool kids.” Nick isn’t proud of that decision, and I was glad to hear that he was quite terrible at cursing and gave it up out of embarrassment.
CAPTAIN COURAGEOUS
Nick admits he strayed from his Christian upbringing for a brief time. He declined invitations to join prayer sessions and hang out with the Christian kids because he didn’t want to be put in a box by other classmates. It’s not unusual for teenagers to question their family’s faith. We understood that, even if we didn’t like it. Nick still hadn’t come to terms with why God had denied him arms and legs.
Raising the Perfectly Imperfect Child Page 12
