Being on Display

A mother shares how to handle meltdowns with dignity and acceptance.

By Lisa Candera, Esq., CLC

After weeks of illegally parking in the fire zone just to walk my son, Ben, into school because it was the only way he’d go in, we tried something new.

Ben’s 1:1 aide started meeting us at the car in the drop-offline.

Now, Ben could feel more independent, and I could catch the train that would get me to work on time.

It was working fairly well until the day we pulled up, and the aide was not there.

A parent volunteer opened the back door to help Ben, but Ben slammed it shut, refusing to budge.

At that point, I was desperate. The drop-offline was moving, and I could feel the pressure of all the cars waiting behind me. I exited the driver’s seat, walked around the car, and opened the back door, hoping to coax him out.

Instead, Ben flailed and cried. He clung to the seat, his body rigid with panic. The parents behind me in the line were now stuck, watching. Some with curiosity, some with impatience, and I imagined, some with judgment.