No Child is Disposable (2)

🎈 In the Case of Riki and Yukito

■ 3. Yukito

I will never forget that day.

Mom smiled just like she always does and said,
"Yukito, you're fine just the way you are. You really worked hard.
Starting today, you're moving to a classroom with fewer people!"

The new classroom had fewer children,
the two teachers weren't scary,
the sounds and voices in the classroom were quiet,
and it was a much safer place than Class 5-3.

That's why I could feel at ease, even though I'm not good at many things.
I felt like, "It's okay for me to be here every day."

I'm not good with crowds,
I'm not good with people who raise their voices,
I'm not good with people who don't follow the rules,
I hate the cold, excessive school lunches,
and I was so, so scared of the loud-voiced teacher that I wanted to run away.

The wet floor of the school pool is gross,
the loud sound of the starting pistol at sports day is scary,
and I hate being yelled at along with the kid who's being scolded.
I'm scared of loud voices, and I hate that I just do whatever I'm told.

I know I have to go to school,
but school was full of things I wasn't good at.
If I wouldn't get in trouble for not going, I would have wanted to stay home.

But it's different now.

The teachers in this classroom aren't scary.
I don't mind the other kids in the classroom either.
This has become one of the places where I can feel safe.

Mom gave me a Help Mark (it seems it's free).
"The Help Mark is on your side, Yukito, so take good care of it," she said.
I attached it to my usual backpack.
The next day, I took the train with Mom to go to the mental health clinic for the first time in a while.

The train full of strangers is scary,
and the crowded rush hour is scary too.
I was tired because I stood there shaking the whole time.

Mom tried talking to me many times,
but I couldn't hear her over the clatter of the train and could only say "yeah."

I want to go home soon.
That's what I thought as I stared into the distance the whole time.

On the way back, someone who saw my Help Mark gave up their seat for me.
My scared feelings didn't change, but I felt a bit better once I sat down.

I wonder if the Help Mark will help me even when I'm an adult.
Even after Mom and Dad are gone, will there be anyone to help me?

I don't know.
I'm scared because I don't know.
It seems impossible to live alone after Mom and Dad are gone.
I don't want to live a long life.
When Mom and Dad are gone, I want to be gone too.
But I guess that's probably impossible.

"I want to be with my family forever.
I can keep trying because I'm not alone."
When I said that, Mom started to cry.

"Yes, yes, it's good to be with family.
I know you've been trying so, so hard. You've done enough."
She smiled when she said that, so I was glad.

I feel safe when things are 'the same as always' and I'm 'with my family'.

I'm not good at making decisions, and I don't like loud voices.
I have way too many things I'm not good at.
"When you're struggling with something you're not good at, say 'please help me',"
the doctor for my heart said.

Mom said,
"It would be nice if we could help each other when we're in trouble," she said.
I don't really understand what 'helping each other' means.

I will still have autism in the future.

The things I'm not good at now will still be hard tomorrow,
and the feeling of being scared won't go away either,
so I'll ask, "I'm in trouble, please help me."

I, a fifth grader, already know
that saying "please help me" is nothing to be ashamed of.

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Thank you for reading (*´▽｀*)