My Daughter the Activist

Yesterday at the office I got a phone call.

Caller: Hello Mr. Barton? (No one calls me Mr. Barton...this had to be bad)

Me: Yes, this is he.

Caller: This is Mrs. X, Vice Principal at your daughter’s school.

My side conversations with co-workers stopped. Blood rushed from my face. The world stopped spinning momentarily.

Not because I feared she was hurt. Based on the tone in the Vice Principal’s voice I knew my daughter was in good health.

I remember in my youth when my parents used to get calls from my vice principal. It was never a good call. I immediately thought of what she could’ve done.

Mentally, I suspected those Tae Kwon Do lessons that she started months ago may have been a bad idea.

Let’s get back to the call.

Mrs. X sensed my hesitation, and I suspect she used her Vice-Principal superpowers to read my thoughts.

She continued, “The reason I’m calling Mr. Barton is a good one”.

Whew!

In a nutshell, my daughter was being recognized for positive behavior. She was singled out by her teacher for being one that always speaks kindly to others, and offers help to anyone in need. Her teacher even commented her on being a great big sister, as she knows that Claire-Marie meets Mason at his classroom every day and walks him to our waiting car.

Mrs. X Vice Principal continued, “On Friday she’ll be recognized in the morning assembly in front of the entire school”.

Awesome!

If anything, Claire-Marie’s life experiences of having a brother on the spectrum have turned her into a crusader, a volunteer, an activist, and good Samaritan, all at the tender age of 7. She lives to help him. Many times Mason pushes her away, but she doesn’t let that get her down. She’s always ready to help him even if that means not helping him.

She loves to talk to strangers, something we’ve tried to cure to no avail. She readily tells anyone she comes in contact about her brother and autism, and all the successes he’s had, along with his challenges.

She’s become very patient, and tolerant of all our daily errands which seem to always center around Mason, or his therapy sessions.

When getting dressed this morning for school, she asked if I would be attending the assembly on Friday morning.

“I wouldn’t miss it for a bazillion dollars” I told her.

She beamed, she knew I was proud. But it wasn’t just about the recognition, but about the person she is shaping up to be. I told her that. It’s important that she knows it.

She already picked out her attire for the assembly.

She demanded that gets to wear her “Cure Autism Now” t-shirt on stage for all to see.

She always seems to have her own agenda.