In just a few hours we will be in our yearly Individualized Education Plan (IEP) meeting. If you’ve ever prepared for one, you know that it can be an extremely overwhelming process. We will sit around a table with people whom we barely know and they will tell us about the best ways for our boy to learn, the best ways for him to achieve their benchmark of success.
They will speak in acronyms, in jargon. They will speak in a language we don’t know and of tests we aren’t familiar with. They will have name badges and business cards and this will just be another day in the office for them. In every other setting they are the experts.
But not here.
What they don’t know yet is that this boy they will speak of in terms of test scores and percentages is the same boy that will change this world. They don’t know yet that the boy who’s life has been largely labeled by a diagnosis is the same boy who will never fit into category other than amazing. They have yet to understand that his value is significantly greater than any standardized test will ever show because he is everything but standard.
They will mark pages and take notes and someone will be there to type as we speak, as if what is spoken in that room is the transcript of this boys life. They don’t know yet that his story is just beginning to be written.
In 30 minutes or so they will attempt to sum up his whole self onto a document and they will set goals for his academic success. We will sign on our lines and they will file it away until the next year and then they will move onto the next case.
To them he’s a boy who’s success is yet to be measured, to those who know him he’s the boy who’s whole life is a story of unending determination and ever prevailing grace.
And that’s a success we’ll never get tired of celebrating.