Fridays hold a special place in my heart as they are the days my daughter, Mia, attends a mainstream school. For the rest of the week, she is enrolled in a special education program. Initially, Mia attended our local school full-time, just like her siblings and many friends. It felt natural for her to follow in their footsteps, and we didn’t think much about it at the time.
As we began to recognize Mia’s unique needs, we hired a full-time aide to support her in the classroom. This arrangement worked for a few years, but by second grade, it became clear that a special education setting would better suit her needs. This was an emotional transition for our family, as we had cherished the community school where my husband and I were actively involved in fundraising and parent committees.
As observant Jews, we had envisioned Mia learning about her culture, the Hebrew language, and Jewish traditions at our beloved school. Transitioning to a special school felt like a loss of those dreams and underscored the reality of Mia’s long-term needs. Nevertheless, we were determined to ensure she could attend her Jewish school on Fridays, connecting her with her peers.
Every Thursday night, we lay out a different uniform for Mia, preparing her for her special day at Yavneh. She switches to her brothers’ school bag, filling it with her favorite toys to share with her classmates. Meanwhile, her desk is set up each week with pencils and paper, waiting for her return. The teachers even select a student each Thursday to help Mia navigate her day, and surprisingly, children eagerly volunteer for this role.
Each Friday morning at 8:15 a.m., I find myself anxiously waiting at the school gate, hoping a classmate will come to guide her to her classroom before my two-minute parking spot expires. Without fail, a fifth grader appears, beaming and ready to assist Mia. Sometimes, I receive messages from other parents, sharing how excited their children are for Mia’s arrival.
Fridays have become the most pivotal day of the week for Mia and her classmates. She is invited to birthday parties, included in class activities, and when someone makes an unkind remark, her peers quickly come to her defense. When Mia has a meltdown, her classmates surround her with encouragement, helping her rejoin the class. They understand that she may not be able to keep up academically or stay in class for long periods, and they adapt without hesitation.
While these children are not perfect, it’s evident that Mia brings out the best in them. They’ve learned the values of patience, tolerance, and inclusivity. I have received notes of gratitude from parents who recognize the positive influence Mia has had on their children.
I sometimes find myself contemplating the future, envisioning the independence that awaits her classmates as they grow into teenagers. I think about the social events they will experience—WhatsApp groups, outings, and parties. The gap between Mia’s social skills and theirs will likely widen, and in quiet moments, I mourn this reality.
Yet, I find solace in knowing that her classmates will always look out for Mia, appreciating her vibrant spirit. No matter how their paths diverge, she remains a valued member of their group, cherished within her community.
Fridays will always hold a special meaning for us—a day of connection, inclusion, and joy.
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Summary
Fridays are a vital part of my daughter Mia’s life, providing her with opportunities for inclusion, connection, and joy within her mainstream school. Despite the challenges she faces, her classmates embrace her, fostering an environment of support and love. No matter what lies ahead, Fridays will always symbolize belonging and community for Mia.