Holland
In 1987 Emily Kingsley wrote an essay that captured elements of her journey as a parent of a child with a disability. The story titled, “Welcome to Holland,” describes a person getting ready for a trip to flashy, fast-paced, stylish Rome, Italy. After taking off, the flight attendant announces the approximate flight time until landing in Holland. Kingsley narrates the processing involved in wrapping her brain around a totally new and unexpected destination. She eventually gets over the shock and begins to process that Holland isn’t bad, it’s just different. After all, “Holland has windmills… and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.” At the end of the essay, Kingsley acknowledges the grief of, “the loss of that dream,” but also states that you can’t spend your life in mourning or you will never get to enjoy the things you have.
As a young special education teacher, I found this essay provided an important perspective. I interacted with parents and caregivers who were angry and grieving. At times I was even the focus of that anger. As if I was the one who ultimately confirmed that they were stuck in Holland and would never reach Rome. This essay provided me with a context for their grief and anger.
Barn Fire
Recently, I came across another essay. This one was written by Kristen Groseclose. Groseclose shares that “Welcome to Holland” did not feel like an accurate parallel for her experience raising her son who has a disability that causes severe pain and health problems. Kristen explains that often she feels this haiku by Mizuta Masahide is a better fit for her.
“My barn having burned down, I can see the moon.”
This haiku offers the intensity of a barn fire. I can see the smoldering embers and feel the emotion of loss, standing there looking out over the destruction. Then, I look up and notice a view of the moon I never had when my barn was still standing, a new, striking view of a bright moon in a dark sky.
Now, as a veteran teacher and a parent of two teenagers with learning disabilities, I can see the value both of these perspectives have to offer. There are days when I look at my teens and see the world from their creative, unique, neurodivergent perspective. I am amazed and thankful that I have the opportunity to learn from them. I think to myself, “Holland isn’t so bad.” Raising my children has definitely made me a better special education teacher. I have learned as a parent that disabilities also come with a unique set of amazing abilities.
But… Then, there are other days, when failed classes, the struggles of constantly advocating for accommodations in school, and surviving when anxiety, frustration, and anger seem to bring life to a grinding halt everywhere we turn. When I feel the barn burning, down in my very core. Defeated and deflated, I desperately hope that at the end of the day, maybe I will find a glimmer of hope and a view of the moon that will keep me going.
Maybe It’s Both
So, I leave you with this. Whether you are a teacher, caregiver, supporter, or a parent of a child who struggles, try to keep the big picture in perspective. Cherish the days where you can appreciate the beauty of Holland and brace yourself for the barn fires, but know nothing lasts forever. Tomorrow is a new day.
Written by LauraMarie Coleman