Grade School Memories.

 

        Grade School Memories: Seeing Colors, Hearing Songs, and Finding My Place

When I was in grade school in New Jersey, I wasn’t totally blind yet. I had very low vision and wore thick glasses to help me read and get around. Those glasses made everything big enough so I could see the colors of people’s skin, their clothes, and the world around me. I remember those colors clearly—even now. They’re part of my memory, even though my eyes are gone today.

In my classroom, all of us had disabilities in one way or another. Everyone had some sight, but I was the only one with both a visual and a hearing impairment. That made things more challenging sometimes—but it didn’t stop me. I also wore hearing aids, and I wasn’t alone in that. A girl in my class named Laura wore hearing aids too. She spoke very quietly—except when she didn’t! Sometimes she surprised us and spoke really loud.

Even with my limited vision and hearing, I got to join in on all kinds of activities. One of my favorite memories was performing in holiday plays. We did them for Christmas and Thanksgiving, and sometimes even at the restaurant we visited. I followed the songs just like I was told to—and sang them proudly. It felt so good to be part of something, to belong, and to share those moments with my classmates.

And I’ll never forget my music teacher. She was totally blind and played the piano beautifully. She led our music classes with so much heart. As a kid with low vision, I looked up to her. She showed me that blindness didn’t mean giving up joy or expression—it just meant doing things differently.

 

 

celeste: My Best Friend, Always

One of the people I remember most from grade school was my best friend, celeste. She was so sweet, and she was always there for me—no matter what I was going through or how I felt. She stayed by my side, and I could count on her.

There was only one thing that bothered me: she drooled a lot. I couldn’t stand that part. It made me feel sick sometimes, especially when I felt it on the tables where we were sitting. But even with that, Celeste was still my best friend. I never stopped loving her for who she was.

She was very tall, with short brown hair. I can still picture her now. She accepted me for me, and I accepted her—even with the things that were hard for me. That’s what real friendship is about.

 

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