WASHINGTON 鈥� Rachna Heizer will never forget the time she was in the kitchen and heard the sound of nursery rhymes coming from the hallway. She assumed her 3-year-old was playing with a push-button toy, but when she turned the corner, she saw her then-nonverbal son figuring out familiar tunes on a miniature plastic piano.
鈥淗e鈥檇 heard [the nursery rhymes] enough that he had memorized them and taught himself to play them,鈥� said Heizer, a resident of Fairfax County, Virginia.
鈥淎nd you couldn鈥檛 keep him away.鈥�
A few years later, Jake taught himself pop songs on the guitar, followed by the drums. So Heizer found it strange that when Jake was in fourth grade, he was left out of his school鈥檚 talent show.
鈥淭he children in his class weren鈥檛 even invited to audition because the school never thought that kids in a self-contained special education autism class could have any musical talent,鈥� Heizer said.
Jake showed them.
These days, Heizer said administrators at Jake鈥檚 high school call on the 16-year-old when they need someone to perform for school events. He plays in a band with his peers, takes music lessons after school, and has his sights set on Boston鈥檚 Berklee College of Music. But none of it would have been possible if Heizer didn鈥檛 tear through some red tape to take the spotlight off his disability and shine it on his ability.
On Oct. 5, storytellers from across the country, including author Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie and KIND founder Daniel Lubetzky, will take the stage at the National Education Association in Northwest D.C. to reflect on . Heizer is one of the 15 invited speakers, and the story she鈥檚 sharing is Jake鈥檚.
According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, about children in the U.S. identify with autism spectrum disorder, and data from the National Center for Education Statistics shows of children with autism attend traditional schools.
But Heizer said at school, students with disabilities often are not treated the same as other students, and that needs to change, especially when it comes to cultivating their strengths.
鈥淚f there鈥檚 a kid who doesn鈥檛 have a disability, we look at them in kindergarten and say, 鈥榃hat is little Suzie good at? Oh, she鈥檚 good at math, so let鈥檚 foster that.鈥� Or, 鈥榃hat is little Johnny good at? Maybe it鈥檚 reading 鈥� he likes to read 鈥� so let鈥檚 give him more books.鈥� But when we look at someone like Jake who walked in fairly nonverbal when he started school, we look at, 鈥極h, he can鈥檛 talk, he can鈥檛 this, he can鈥檛 that. So let鈥檚 fix that,鈥欌�� Heizer explained.
鈥淎nd that鈥檚 not necessarily the right approach.鈥�
Heizer, who serves on the board of the , gives the example of Jake being denied a music elective because he needed social skills support. It took her seven meetings with the school to have them move his social skills intervention to study hall so he could have an actual elective.
Soon after, Jake was playing in the high school guitar ensemble as a middle school student.
Throughout Jake鈥檚 education, Heizer has seen incremental changes at school as a result of her constant push back. (She makes it clear that there鈥檚 no ill will from educators 鈥� most are there help children. Rather, it鈥檚 the institution.) But she said it shouldn鈥檛 take a fight to get a fair system, and 鈥渋t shouldn鈥檛 take a parent like me for kids with disabilities to be seen for their abilities.鈥�
鈥淲e have to stop pigeonholing our kids. 鈥� We need to stop looking at children with disabilities for what they can鈥檛 do. We need to start with what they can do. And I think that鈥檚 a blind spot our schools have and so I want to tell our educators we need to remove that blind spot,鈥� said Heizer about her upcoming presentation at the NEA Foundation symposium.
鈥淭o me, I was given Jake to be able to hopefully make a change for other children who have abilities like him and may not have had a chance to find them in the way Jake has.鈥�
You can watch Heizer and the other invited speakers share their stories on the at 2:30 p.m. on Friday, Oct. 5. Jake will also perform at the event.
