And yes, the annual problem, here under the Big Top is finding a good way to spend it. But as summer vacation draws to a close, we have other problems, other dilemmas, other challenges.

The biggest challenge, at the moment, is three of my circus clowns are going on to new schools…to college, to high school and to a new elementary school because that is where the special education program that Daniel qualifies for and benefits from is being moved to. This change has been a problem that has consumed much of our time of late as Daniel and I took the time to visit the school and meet one of his teachers. It was a good visit that helped to ease some anxiety and fears. But before I even had the chance to address the fact that my third darling daughter is now a SENIOR in high school, my youngest daughter is now a FRESHMAN in high school or my darling, second-born will be packing up and moving away to COLLEGE later this week, there was more to stress over about with the changes in Daniel’s education and how the school district ignored our IEP fucked up his transportation. There’s never a dull moment in this circus life I tell you!

But here we are on the eve of Back to School and as a bad mama, I should be celebrating. I should be excited. I should also be a little teary because my kids just won’t stop growing up; and bad mama or not,I am not made of stone.

I should be.

Instead, I find myself furious and stressed out with knots of anger and anxiety in the pit of my stomach to go with the Mexican food that I had for dinner tonight.

Just yesterday, sitting in the salon chair next to my daughter’s was a client who identified herself as a teacher at the school Daniel will be attending. Safe in her stylist’s chair she engaged in shop talk(loud enough for my daughter to overhear) with her stylist. She vented about the prep work involved in getting ready for Back to School. I can only imagine how much work this is for teachers. In the confessional that is her stylist’s chair, I wouldn’t blame her at all for venting. That’s what we do.

Well, within reason…at least I do…HIPAA and the fact that I do represent a large, local hospital, I’m not going to confess identifying details or patient information…you never know who might be in the chair next to you…overhearing your conversation…

Like say, for instance, a family member of a student at the school you teach at…a family member of a student in the special education program that has been recently moved to your school by the school district….a family member of a special ed student who will be mainstreamed into a regular second grade class…a family member of a special ed student who will be attending your school who has just heard you bitch about “those special ed kids” invading your school and how some of them will be in your mainstream class which means you will be stuck teaching them. Yes, your stylist’s chair should be a safe place for you to bitch and moan, but then again, you never know who in the salon might overhear you…like when you publicly identified yourself as a teacher at the school my son is going to while his older sister was working with a client in the chair next to you. My daughter heard the complaints this teacher had of being burdened with “those special ed kids” and yes, my daughter was upset to think that this teacher could possibly be her little brother’s mainstream teacher…this teacher who clearly resented the idea that she going to have differently-abled students in her classroom.

I was upset when my daughter told me about it today.

No.

I was angry. I was righteously indignant that such a narrow-minded, ignorant person would have access to and influence over children, my son included. She is not someone I would include in my circle, my circle that includes my amazing son. She has no clue whatsoever just how amazing the students she will be having in her classroom…students like Daniel. She has no idea who these children are, where they came from, what obstacles they have overcome. But she has neatly labeled them and placed them in a box that is “those special ed kids” that she has been burdened with. I’ve encountered this kind of thinking before. I do not accept it. I do not tolerate it because when you speak, think and act like that you are talking about my child…you are talking about people like this young man who just last night was brutally attacked and murdered….you, the teacher, sitting in the salon chair bitching about your burden of teaching students like my son and so many others perpetuate the idea that it is okay to think like that. You influence people my son must grow up with, must attend school with, must play with on the playground. And you are the reason for my anxiety, my heartburn and why your boss, the principal at your school, received an email from me tonight and will be meeting with me tomorrow.