The Legend & The Lesson

There were so many good 90s kids movies.

Home Alone
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
My personal favorite, A Goofy Movie

As I was getting a bit too old for those kids movies, 5th grade, I switched from private to public school.

There were so many differences between private and public school - especially in small town Missouri.

One particular difference? The lunch line. I didn’t know when the class lined up to walk to lunch that you’d be sitting next to those same kids. That’s how I ended up watching Julie dip her potato chips in ketchup and flash me dirty looks.

One of my first friends at public school, outside of Brandon who I loved dearly, was Justin.

Justin had Muscular Dystrophy.

After I figured out the lunch line dynamics I gladly volunteered to push Justin through the line. It saved me from Julie’s dirty looks.

As friends do, we wanted to hang out after school. I asked Justin to go to the movies with us. I can’t even remember what we were going to see.

We got Justin and made our way to a neighboring town. The movie theater was in a downtown area. We parked and prepared to go in. Remember, this was small town Missouri in the 90s.

There was no wheelchair ramp.

I don’t remember there being a long conversation about what to do or how to handle it.

What happened next though is burned into my brain. It’s one of those memories that shape how you see and interact with the world.

It’s a core memory.

Without much fanfare my dad scooped Justin into his arms. He carried him up the narrow steps into the movie theater.

We got him in. Step one.

There was no accessible seating in the theater.

My mom and dad helped position his wheelchair and Justin sat in the aisle - right by my side.

My dad did not understand the enormity of that moment. The gesture. The care. The example.

With his actions, my dad showed me what true inclusion looks like. He showed me that everyone deserves an advocate and a seat at the movies. He taught me that nobody in his care was going to miss out on opportunities because of their need or their difference.

He taught me how to be a special needs dad - even though he wasn’t one himself.

Dads please listen. You set the standard. You set the tone for your family. Your sons need you to carry the Justins and high five the Judes. They need your example of love and inclusion. You may not be a special needs father, but you can prepare your sons to be just that.

Dads, be that example for your kids. They’re watching you.

My dad is not a big guy, but that day he was a mountain.

A legend.

Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it," Proverbs 22:6

PS - Julie and I got along throughout school even though I never ate potato chips and ketchup.