March 2: Saint Marty at a Loss

Well, I don't have a lot of time left in this work day to write anything deep, reflective, sarcastic, or funny.  I had plans to get a lot more accomplished today, but it just didn't happen.  So, I'm going to just open up my journal and type up whatever I find.

Here goes...

As a young child in Detroit, I went to a private Catholic school, as did my eight siblings.  My sister, Rose, who is two years older than me, has Down's syndrome.  She went to the special education classes.

Every year, the Shriners took a bus-load of kids from the special education classes to the circus, and I always went along with them because my mother was usually a chaperon or helper.  The day of the circus field trip, we would pile into the school bus, and it usually took forever.  Some of the kids were in wheelchairs and had other mobility issues.  So I would sit in the back of the bus as they loaded students, and my friends would see me.  They would laugh, point, shout names at us--"Ricky Retardo," "Circus Freak," "Special Eds."  It was constant, and, for me, it lasted for days afterward.

It got to the point where I hated circus day, even though my sister was always thrilled to have me along with her classmates.

It gave me a taste of what my sister faced every day of her life.

So, it's not very polished,  It's not funny.  But you have something to read.  Something better tomorrow, I hope.

Saint Marty has to get going.