About to get into #RollWithIt with @TaraJean.

Follow the thread for thoughts from someone who has CP.

#CerebralPalsy #Reading #Books #DisabledTwitter #ActuallyDisabled #BookReviews

Honest first thought? The fact that the cover has praise from the author of Wonder pretty much is making me side-eye the book already.

Read more: https://toniasays.blogspot.com/2017/08/review-wonder-by-rj-palacio.html

But I'm going to give this one a chance...

The dedication, though... To all the "amazing" kids living with a disability?

So early...so much condescension.

I can't with the mom prompting her daughter to "Chew. Chew. Chew," like she's in feeding therapy. She's eating her darn lasagna. Let her eat it. Not every moment of a kid with CP's life has to be therapy...and yet...

Read more: https://toniasays.blogspot.com/2020/06/therapy-series-when-everything-is.html

Grandpa's got dementia or Alzheimer's, and yet "poor Grandma" is centered in the scenario. And Grandpa is super othered for being afraid they're being burglarized...

"Lauren, my aide, calling to tattle on me."

Real talk, though.

Mine was super like that.

Ellie's attitude pretty much WAS my attitude in middle school, though. Super snarky. Resentful. Full of internalized ableism.

(Though I am side-eyeing the author's use of "stuck in a wheelchair" because I know Author is not also a chair user.)

Also, can we say parentified child? Ellie is all about taking care of her mom. Physically. Emotionally.

Ellie tells mom to "Chew. Chew." on her way to her room.

I can't deny that I laughed.

Ellie talking about how her aide gets mad when she "pulls a runner" and "disappears" is real though.

I got screamed at by my adaptive gym teacher in middle school for "running from her." (Spoiler alert, I was trying to beat her to the classroom.)

Kids tasked with going to the bathroom with me to be sure I didn't fall in elementary school used to scold me when I ran from them, determined to go to the bathroom without them listening...

E is comparing her CP to a friend's - even though we don't know officially that she HAS CP at this point? - she's jealous of Friend.

(Who is her only friend at school because "birds of a feather flock together.")

In my case? Birds of a feather were GROUPED together. I was forced to eat lunch with the other disabled kids off by ourselves.

E sits in the cafeteria feels like "a doorstop."

She gets in trouble for taking a "timeout" from "everybody else's normal."

But she IS normal.

Aide is supposed to be on her "Ellie break."

Really?

Comments about IEPs both helping and harming?

True.

Getting in trouble for things other kids don't get in trouble for?

True.

The freaking baby voice?

Accurate.

Calling your disabled character a C-word (as a nondisabled author?)

No freaking way.

Slur count: 1

Also? I'm feeling like E gives off parentified vibes BECAUSE this is written by a nondisabled author (probably with a disabled kid.) So we are constantly reminded of how hard Mom works. What she has to juggle. It's hard not to get a "MC is a burden" vibe from this.

Dad's a no show in Ellie's life because he can't handle medical things or sickness of any kind. He left when E was a "still not toddling toddler."

Whenever he visits? E makes sure to "lean over" and "drool a little."

WHY are kids with CP constantly portrayed as manipulative?

"I rock back and forth on my wheels."

How, though?

As a wheelchair-user for 30+ years, I'm asking.

"We never see the same [doctor] twice."

But...shouldn't you?

E uses a stander that is supposed to make her stronger. It takes her 10 mins to get situated in it and then she has to stand there...for an hour.

Do I need to talk about how standing still is more taxing for us than walking?

No one stands for a freaking hour. Rude.

I'm concerned that E is dumping her own anti-seizure meds down the drain. Even though she has medical clearance that she's outgrown the seizures this is clearly a mom thing, which mom isn't doing / hasn't gotten to yet. Children handling their own meds shouldnt be a thing.

E is getting out mixing bowls from the bottom shelves and lining her cupboards with flour and sticks of butter.

Implying that her kitchen is at least somewhat wheelchair accessible. I'm curious to hear more details about this.

How accessible is it?

"I wish I could stand and stretch."

I can only speak for myself, but if you are not born with the ability to do something? Generally, you don't miss it.

I wish I could explain to all the nondisabled writers in the world that wheechair users don't pace.

Because we don't.

When we use up our energy so fast, we don't expend it on extra things. Why would you "pace" if you're already exhausted?

Newsflash: You wouldn't.

Also, E is still super all about Mom after she takes an upsetting call about Grandpa. Again, all about what Grandpa helped E do when he was well and not about how terrified he must be, having been in an accident, and now hospitalized.

Change in surroundings = so disorienting

But again, Grandpa's almost like an afterthought in the story. We see Mom's upset. We hear that Grandpa found the keys Grandma hid, but not anything about Grandpa that humanizes him and what he's going through...

Holy God, Grandma's oversharing so bad right now. I get that parents and grandparents are upset about the state of healthcare, but don't tell your 12 YEAR OLD granddaughter that her grandfather's in a place "like a morgue!"

E is checking in w Grandma. Grandma FINALLY is like "You're a child and you shouldn't be worried about this."

We'll see if it sticks.

E says her wheelchair is black. That she had a pink glittery one when she was little. That it's either MLP or industrial wheelchairs and nothing in between.

E, yes there is! I'll send you some links! Your insurance should totally have that info for your mom!

E transfers from chair to bed "which is harder without Mom's help, but I don't want to bug her."

Relateable. But guess what? She's your mom and you're the kid. You GET to bug her.

So...they're renting. And their rental "doesn't have stairs." But most rentals also don't have any access features built in...

Also, E has noted how tired Mom is. And gives her the orange E just peeled for herself. E grabs a second.

Parents make sure kids eat first, not vice versa, in a healthy relationship.

It's upsetting that this parentification is so normalized.

E deserves to be a dang child.

"We need to talk," Mom says, real slow, like she's about to tell me I'm adopted or something."

Wow...nudge my adoption trauma why don't you?

E's maybe transferring to a new school. Mulling over the NV kids whose parents HANG SIGNS ON THE WHEELCHAIR that says "My name is ___ and I have ___"

(Hi, has anyone heard of privacy?)

Also...she thinks maybe she'll pretend SHE can't talk bc "no one will no the difference."

Ugh, E has to be present while all the SPED people talk about her and her "needs."

She knows that by history they mean medical history. She says CP is like a "Go to Jail" card in Monopoly, sending you back to zero.

"In my case, that's birth. Day one of CP."

Excuse you?

So many details re: E's birth, even Mom's going into labor. (Again, centering the parent.)

But punch me right in the feelings with them celebrating BOTH E's birthday AND the day she came home.

I didn't know the date of my release from the hospital until 3 years ago.

So much talk about all her therapy and all the progress she made from it. Kids don't think like this. Especially kids with lifelong disabilities. Nondisabled parents focus on the milestones...

Mom legit just said she agreed to an aide for E at the new school (against E's wishes) because doesn't know if the new school can "handle you."

Nice message to Ellie, there. I'm sure she's feeling super about herself and not burdensome at all...

Whoa. Ellie called her out on it. And Mom came back with this:

Mom: Yes, HANDLE you. I'm sorry if that sounds harsh or demeaning but...

(But...you're not sorry you said it.)

E doesn't even feel like she can cry, she's babied so much already she doesn't want to seem like a baby for crying.

We so often have to stuff our feelings in the face of ableism.

E sees how tired Mom looks and decides against telling her how worried she is about starting at the new school. (Because lest we forget how much work disabled kids are to take care of...)

"What if I'm just the [C-word kid] all over again?"

WHY IS THIS NECESSARY?

Slur count: 2

Letter Ellie writes to her Dad:

"Really, though, I'm good. Wheels are good."

Um. What does this even mean?

"It's not like I have a problem sitting."

...Really?

The author's gonna make that joke.

To quote Waldo from "The Little Rascals": "How redundant."

"Water is the only place my body is not the enemy."

E claims to be able to be "weightless and float" but I suspect she's thin and muscular (CP tone) and thus would sink faster than her peers.

But why mention a life jacket to aid in the floating?

Ugh, another reminder that Mom is a Super-Parent. She fixed a flat tire in a blizzard.

So E hopes Mom can fix Grandpa.When they get to G&Gs house. (Without even asking them if they want Mom and E to MOVE IN.)

"Fixing a tire is not the same thing as fixing a person."

It burns.

"Trailers. Trucks. Bodies. There're so many things wanting to move that the air feels electric with it."

I'm so confused right now.

Are there zombies in the trailer park? Or is this some gross ableist reference to E being in a chair?

Also there is so much gravel. No thank you. I cringe to think of what access will look like for E with her chair living in a dang trailer park.

I glanced at the beginning of the next chapter, and E is just...magically INSIDE the trailer now.

No mention of the thousand access barriers she no-doubt encountered to get there.

Trailers are on wheels. (Not ground level.) Doorways aren't traditionally wide / spaces open.

I picked up on the author's use of "antisocial" to describe E's wanting to eat alone.

This was something I heard from my own nondisabled parents A LOT. I was called "antisocial" all the time. But I never coded my own behavior that way.

E wouldn't either. So ableist.

"Why would I let [Mom] help me when she never lets me help her?"

The level of parentification in this book is off the charts. Not to mention the just...missing it...on the subtleties of being a disabled child.

I know it varies from kid to kid but I NEVER turned down help - even help I didn't need - because it saved time. And because I experienced offers of help as rare.

It doesn't feel right that E would refuse help she needs in this moment.

Grandpa walks in sharply dressed next to Mom (still in nightclothes with bed hair.)

"Next to him, she looks like the crazy one."

Jeez, can we lay off the saneism, please?

MOM LET E TAKE THE WHEELIE BARS OFF HER CHAIR.

OMG. THIS IS SO DANGEROUS I CANNOT.

SHE JUST POPPED A FREAKING WHEELIE AT THE BREAKFAST TABLE.

(Adults freak out. Mom is like: "That's not why I took those off." Why DID you, though??? To get her in the door?)

P.S. If you think I'm overreacting? Grown up chair users without wheelie bars have gotten legit head injuries without them.

E is 12.

This is so dangerous.

Please put them back on, stat!

No ramp off the back porch.

Also E is currently FREEZING cold in a dress that doesn't go past her knees.

Are we going to get any insight about how cold impacts CP?

Please someone help her get warm.

Also, I'm legit terrified about E going to church.

Infantilization from older folks was the least I had to worry about...

Such a nondisabled thing (again) to be caught up in how often other ableds stand up and sit down while E just sits.

Yes, it's a thing.

It's weird to ableds because it's not their usual, like it is ours...

Okay... Here comes Coralee, the nondisabled new friend...inviting Ellie over...to her trailer.

Are the gravel and other access barriers invisible?

It's super highly unlikely that an abled inviting us over would think of all the access things.

Also, E's bar for human contact is so low that she's going to give C a chance because she asked about E's name first, not her chair.

And "That's saying something."

I mean...relateable. But also...like...doesn't she deserve more?

E thinks her fam looks "regal" in their church best. Then she says, "I think I drag down our average with my racing stripes."

The stripes on her wheelchair.

This is the kind of nonsense that perpetuates the notion that adaptive equipment is dirty / shouldn't be pictured.

So, Grandpa left the pew and E tried to get Mom's attention.

(Mom has picked THIS PRECISE moment in the middle of church to drop the truth-bomb on Grandma that Mom and Ellie are staying. Grandma's mad.)

Grandpa's missing and Mom keeps brushing Ellie off. Once. Twice.

Finally, it's clear Grandpa's at the front of the sanctuary, super upset because he's without his wallet. He thinks it's stolen. It's a whole scene. Grandma talks to him and tells him where his wallet is. Grandpa is overwhelmed by everything and starts crying.

As Grandma coaxes Grandpa to walk back to their pew, "something happens" and one of the candles tips over.

There's a legit fire.

So the parting messages here: Disabled people's voices don't matter (Ellie's). And disabled people are dangerous (Grandpa.)

No, thank you.

Bathroom is SUPER inaccessible. E's chair cant even fit through the door. Mom stands in the same room (behind a door but still.) E is super embarrassed.

She deserves to have a bathroom that she can actually USE. Like, IDK, the one in her old house???

It makes zero sense to me why E's mom would move her from a house that is marginally accessible to one that isn't...when Mom has only JUST told Grandma they plan on LIVING THERE.

Just TOLD her. No conversation. No consent from her or Grandpa needed apparently.

(I say it makes no sense but it's SO a thing nondisabled parents do - at least in my experience - to just ignore access barriers or even to create more, without a thought to how it will impact us.)

Mom only brought in one bag when they first arrived. I wonder whose she chose?

E: "Will you bring in the bath chair?"

OMG I CAN'T WITH THIS FREAKING BOOK.

She should not have to BEG her mom for access to the TUB. (And now we get copious details of how the tub is inaccessible and how E has to be "lifted naked like a baby" and strapped into the bath chair.)

"It is a tiny thing no one else thinks of: the privilege to wash yourself without help."

ACCESS TO BASIC NEEDS IS NOT A PRIVILEGE, IT'S A RIGHT.

And if the author were actually disabled, she'd know it is not a "tiny thing."

Disabled ppl having bodily autonomy is everything.

"When you're like me, you get used to seeing your body as a separate thing. Leg one. Leg two. Muscles and hair and a heart that beats. It makes it less embarrassing when people are always putting their hands on you."

From E's POV, that level of dissociation is understandable in the situation she's in. We often dissociate to cope.

BUT

The fact that this is coming from a nondisabled author is super horrifying. The dehumanization of this 12-year-old child here... I just...have no words.

It all feels super clinical and detached TBH.

And it honestly makes me feel like...this is probably what [some] abled parents feel caring for their disabled kids.

Seeing our body as separate pieces to contend with. Not as whole human beings.

It's chilling.

Filicide is committed because this kind of thinking goes unnoticed. Because [some] abled parents are convinced their disabled kids aren't actually real children at all.

I feel like I'm getting an abled parent's view of their disabled child.

But it's being passed off as the child's own view of herself.

I can't tell you how disturbed I am by this level of dehumanization.

Soaking in the tub = E's favorite thing to do as it soothes her sore muscles.

"You'd think that my legs would never get sore, seeing how little I use them, but they do."

Hi, did you forget she has CP. For a lot of us that means super tense muscles 24/7. Of course they're sore.

"It doesn't matter that I can't walk, because I can swim."

I'm all for people with CP experiencing freedom in the water, but again, the fact that this is being perpetuated by an nondisabled author is just...no.

Being able to do a thing physically does not give you worth.

It's been a few minutes and I'm still not over the super disturbing way the author cataloged E's body - as if it were parts - and she was not a full human.

It made me remember the case of a nondisabled stepparent who horrifically murdered his 7yo stepson who had CP.

Recently.

Mom and Grandma are still fighting. Grandma's still upset (understandably) that Mom decided to move in without so much as asking first.

They're silent on the porch and E comes to join them...with her hair wet after her bath. She can feel the ends of her hair "get crunchy with cold." Mom discourages E from joining because her hair's wet, but E insists, somehow transferring herself seamlessly to a rocking couch.

E has been able to seamlessly access beneath the bathroom sink, all around the kitchen and out to the back porch (at least we know there's a ramp somewhere there.) But like, transferring to seating that moves?

We know "Mom stands to help" but not whether help was actually given.

E is suddenly on the rocking couch and letting it rock her. Like, NBD.

"Mom and Mema blow on their coffee."

@TaraJean: THEY have warm drinks!

"Both of them have to help me into my chair because I'm stiff with cold. But it was worth it. I'm the glue to their glitter. They can't help but stick around because of me."

^ What IS this freaking nonsense?

Children with CP should not have to put themselves in harm's way for the comfort of their nondisabled family members.

And it's irresponsible as a nondisabled author to give kids with CP the message that this is in any way, "worth it."

We are already taught that our bodies aren't our own. That our consent doesn't matter. We are taught to push through pain.

DON'T freaking write a book that tells disabled kids it's "worth it" to push ourselves past our limits.

Mom and Grandma got E spoke-covers...which I had to Google...because I'm ancient.

And now I'm irate.

Mom can give her freaking spoke covers but she doesn't even have access or basic dignity where she's living.

SHE HAD A HOUSE. It worked for her better than this one!

E talks to her Dad on Christmas morning. He's highly uninvolved. After a less-than-stellar exchange on the phone E muses:

"I wonder if Dad misses me. I wonder if he wonders what I can do now?"

Kids E's age wonder if their dad misses them. They wonder if Dad would have stayed around if they were not disabled. They don't wonder if he wonders what she can do now.

This is purely a nondisabled parent thing.

If E does feel it, I guarantee it came from her abled fam.

C [abled friend] stops by - on Christmas Day - what the heck? And invites E over. E has never once been invited to a friend's house.

I get that access could be an issue, but in this author's world it seems more a comment on the fact that she is naturally friendless :/

E's about to bail on going to C's when they reach gravel. C is seamless about giving E the cookies to hold and offering / volunteering to push.

E hates it when people have to push her.

Wheelie bars are def gone bc they make pushing through gravel easier :/

Inside C's house, E finds C's grandpa "has a bad leg" and uses a walker. Sets E at ease.

C's grandma is a smoker, which is "bad for E's lungs, but it's bad for everyone's...so what's a couple of hours?"

Um. Breathing issues are not something to mess around with.

I can see this being something E would rationalize for herself, but the whole situation is unnecessary!

And again, the fact that it's a story told by a nondisabled author just makes it that much more dangerous!

They're barely there when C asks The Question. And E feels compelled to answer.

When I was little and kids asked me, I'd just freeze.

I kinda hate that C feels obligated to lay out her diagnosis like that (and her physical abilities.)

C: Now you ask me something.

C, you didn't exactly give E a choice here...

"I think about what my life was like just five days ago.

I don't have my own room or my own bed.

I can't take a bath or use the bathroom alone.

...But I've got people now."

^ This breaks my heart. Like, in ways I can't describe.

As someone who was kicked out of my own home after it was made less accessible to me...and then had to face dangerous levels of inaccessibility...it breaks my heart.

There is no universe in which a child should have to choose people over access.

People over safety.

People over dignity.

And the truth is...she never had a choice here.

Children cannot consent.

She's stuck doing what Mom decides.

And Mom deciding to prioritize her dad with Alzheimer's says something. Though he's not being respected now there is an inherent respect there for him as a nondisabled parent he was.

This is a respect that E will likely never get from her Mom.

Because E's been disabled from birth, she's not as easy to relate to for Mom...so it's easier for Mom to disregard E's needs, or to just...not consider them at all.

"I was [Grandpa's] favorite fishing buddy because I'd had my whole life to practice sitting still."

Can we not?

(Also, E - a.k.a. abled author - refers to every freaking accommodation E has as "special" or sometimes "extra special.")

No.

Oh jeez.

E's at the new school for the first time. Mom's in "advocate mode" and we get to hear a ginormous list of ALL the things Mom does for E - fighting insurance, fighting the school when "they thought CP was the same thing as a learning disability."

CP and learning disabilities can (and do) coexist.

I have one. I never knew until I met a friend with CP who had the same: dyscalculia (like dyslexia, but with math.)

I grew up feeling like there was something wrong with me. I tested at a 6th grade level in 10th grade math.

Learning disabilities are not bad.

Being infantilized (regardless of the reason) is what's bad.

I wish that was made clearer :/

"Today as we roll through the double doors (no h*ndicapped button), Mom's face says: 'We are the ability in disability. Hear us roar.'"

Oh for Pete's sake.

Can we lay off the euphemisms, please?

Also, I don't even want to imagine the access issues E will face in this school.

This school has never done an individualized plan, Mom tells Elle, "but they're doing one for you."

E can't ride the bus because there is no lift. E is rightly disappointed and puts her head down.

Mom: Put your shoulder strap on and stop moping.

I swear to God, every single book like this? Written by an abled parent? Misses the point so tremendously when their kid with CP encounters ableism and / or access barriers.

Their feelings are dismissed or minimized.

We are not allowed to be sad or disappointed.

So harmful.

E and the whole dang family is in on Grandpa's doctor's appointment. I get that she's 12. But from a storytelling perspective IMO this is just an excuse to let EVERYONE get in on the state of Grandpa's health...when it's NOT OUR BUSINESS.

Grandma's in fighting shape, luckily, and pushes back against the doctor advising them to institutionalize Grandpa. "We're all deteriorating. We might as well do it together."

Thank you, Grandma!

But then Mom stays behind to talk to the doc alone and I'm super nervous it.

Grandma and Ellie find Grandpa in the waiting room talking to a little girl. He says to Grandma, "Can you believe our little granddaughter finally learned to walk?"

Ellie, right there the whole time, wheels away. She doesn't know when she started crying.

Moments like this (faced with a family members relief at a lack of disability) are crushing.

But coming from a nondisabled author it feels weirdly plot-devicey and exploitative...

They leave the appt way past lunchtime and E hasn't eaten since breakfast but she's too upset to eat now.

If anyone needs to eat, I'm guessing it's probably you, love.

Hugely overlooked facet in the lives of kids with CP is our inability to access basic needs. Kids with CP go without food / water / bathroom on the regular because of access issues.

(Blog coming soon on this topic.)

E needs to be able to eat, so she needs emotional support now

Also E has now been in her chair for too long. Her legs are sore and the seat cushion is rubbing a bruise into her tailbone.

Tailbone issues are no joke. I've broken mine around E's age. She's probably getting some kind of sore, rather than a bruise. She needs some ice. >

And no more time in the chair for a bit. >

E got her first chair at 4, and started realizing "all the things she could and could not reach."

You know what actually happens? You get a wheelchair (as a kid with CP) and you realize, all the things you CAN reach and all the places you CAN go!

Holy dear Lord on a cracker.

WHY do we need to hear that the Food & Co = "a [C-word] kid's dream???

Slur count: 4 (because I'm counting the other C-word as well, in reference to Grandpa.

P.S. This is a middle grade novel. Meant for children. Way to teach them hate speech.

I PROMISE YOU there is a way to indicate your disabled MC is happy / relieved / joyful about having things accessible that DOES NOT include the use of that word.

If you are nondisabled, you don't get to reclaim that word - not even due to proximity / association.

E is finally hungry. The first thing she goes for are the gross sausage biscuits that stay warm "all day" under the heat lamps.

No, Ellie. That's gross.

(Also, they can just eat the food IN THE STORE and no one thinks they're stealing. White privilege, anyone?)

Another kid in the store comes up to E and tells her she is "very attractive."

In E's experience, "nobody would call a girl in a wheelchair attractive unless he was messing with her..."

Can we calm down with the self hating, please?

E finds the kid "creepy" and tells Mom she was "verbally harassed." Mom asks if the boy's name was Robert, and it's confirmed. Mom says Bert is joining Ellie in the carpool on the way to school.

E says no. Repeatedly. Apparently freaked out.

...Which is problematic but we'll get to why in a minute.

First we must read about how E waits "until Mom stops laughing" to explain more.

Again, why is a kid with CP in distress funny?

Mom says she suspects Bert is "on the spectrum" and that he's "probably never been tested." That he's had a hard time on the bus, etc.

It's such freaking tropey autistic representation, I can't. Plus way to super-other him right away!

The autistic rep is not exactly my lane.

Here is a good thread re: the autistic (mis)representation in this book: https://twitter.com/AaronLinguini/status/1261670980155572224

E can see how Mom is "trying to place bandaids on all the broken people. It's what she does."

And later, E tells Mom:

"Oh, I get it. You're trying to fix all the cr*zy people now, right?"

Newsflash: Disabled / Autistic people don't need to be fixed.

Slur count: 5.

Mom calls out E's use of "cr*zy" but only because E has included Grandpa in her lumping of people in that case.

For Bert, she urges that E "be a little more open-minded" and for her to "have empathy and sympathy."

E thinks of the little girl Grandpa mistakenly identified as her in the hospital. She thinks about what it means to be attractive "and how I will never be."

She then determines she is "fresh out" of empathy and sympathy.

The "empathy and sympathy" refrain reminds me of how in books like Wonder, "Be Kind" is the motto that's repeated throughout.

But kindness feels a lot like pity, when it's just given BECAUSE we're disabled.

When are nondisabled authors going to begin encouraging their readers to treat disabled people with respect? With dignity? Not because of exceptional intelligence. Not because they overcome their disability in some kind of way, but because we are freaking human beings?

Ellie is "never going back" [presumably to school?]

She and Mom are in their room and "I've pulled myself onto the bed, but I'm too tired to drag the quilt over me."

Why phrase it like this?

If you're going to set your MC up to face access barriers on purpose, at least give them the freaking dignity to not talk about how they are "pulling themselves" places.

"I got up onto the bed," works just as well AND E's dignity is respected.

"MY SKINNY, ST*P*D, USELESS LEGS."

Oh no she did not.

You stop it right dang now!

Like...are you TRYING to encourage kids with CP to hate themselves? (More than we are already taught to hate ourselves?)

Grandma insists they go out to the porch.

Ellie: No, Mema, it's too cold.

Grandma: You're a tough girl. You can handle it.

HELL NO, SHE WON'T GO!

Seriously! It's JANUARY in OK! There is literally NO reason to attempt to force E to relocate from a warm bed!

I'm furious!

E's inner monologue:

"No, I'm not tough, I'm an invalid. In-valid. I want to say it but I know she won't listen."

I'm sure she won't. Because everybody in this child's family steamrolls her and none of her emotions or needs are validated.

Whatever happened at school is clearly having an effect... :(

She's out on the porch now (at least this time she's got a blanket, and hot chocolate that is "already only lukewarm.") But she shouldn't have to risk her health / wellbeing like this. There's no need for it.

Grandma tries to relate to E, saying she remembers what middle school is like. E thinks Grandma is a force of nature and:

"I'm not strong like that."

Sweeping general statements like this do us no favors.

Plus, it ignores / overlooks the complexities that exist in this situation. It's not that Ellie is not strong. It's that being surrounded by abled kids as a disabled kid - and a chair user? You are keenly aware of the imbalance of power.

She doesn't have the privilege of being in a position where she holds ANY power at all. Strength has nothing to do with it.

And I promise, there's a way to convey this subtlety - even in a kids book.

The fact that whatever happens in school is told in a flashback is... It takes away the immediacy. It gives the reader a sense that Ellie is an outsider.

But if we were WITH Ellie from the start? We would immediately understand her feelings.

8 hours earlier, Mom picks up Bert in the van with E and C. Ellie and Coralee immediately make fun of Bert's satchel and as he clarifies what makes it different than a purse, Ellie thinks:

"He would be right at home on the short bus."

NO FREAKING WAY. Can we STOP this?

E spends the rest of the drive to school being snarky to Bert in her mind.

Mom tells her that she's still securing an aide. E voices her objections. Mom ignores her.

E and C walk in and kids part so they're in a "bubble of aloneness."

Mom is praying in the car :/

(No one ever parted for me. In my experience, kids don't notice, or if they do, they just keep moving. It made navigating halls with crutches downright dangerous.)

Are they so far out in the boonies that E is the first disabled person they've seen?