I thought it was one of the most sad and outrageous of stories. Life already is hard. To remove even a sliver of joy seemed to me just evil.
For nine years, Boulder Valley schools hosted a variety of events during school days for special- needs kids, things like a sock hop, an ice cream social and a graduation party.
Last week, though, the district shut it all down, saying it wanted to provide “a more inclusive experience.”
“We will be doing everything we can,” said Kim Bane, the district’s director of special education, “to encourage and support participation in all of our opportunities and events.”
I was planning to absolutely bury Kim Bane here.
And then I spoke with Jay Ruggeri.
He is 56 years old, a lieutenant after 33 years with the Boulder Fire Department. He and his wife, Marsha, have two daughters, Siena, 14, and Sophie, 17.
Sophie is a senior at Centaurus High School. She has cerebral palsy, is nonverbal and is mostly confined to a wheelchair. Her father rejoiced when he heard the district was ending the special events.
“She so is normal,” Ruggeri said. “She comes into the classroom, and all the kids just love her.”
A lot of people share my outrage, he told me. He thinks it is related to pity, and he cannot abide people who pity his daughter.
“People just don’t understand.” He says this often about his daughter. It informs his life now.
When there was no wheelchair-accessible playground for the town’s elementary school kids, he led the effort in 2002 to raise more than $200,000 to build Kids Park Lafayette. When the older kids wanted one too, he raised nearly $400,000 and got it done.
“Diversity without inclusion is segregation.” It is one of Ruggeri’s favorite sayings. It grew out of his belief that yanking his kid out of class so she could play with other disabled kids did her no favors.
He and Marsha mainstream Sophie at every opportunity, not only for her sake but also for those around her.
“Kids she met would ask how she got to school, how she went to the bathroom, simple questions they soon figured out,” he said. “It broke down a lot of barriers. Neighbors and parents of her classmates are our strongest advocates now.”
He wonders whether people like me would be outraged if the school district were peeling away dark-skinned students, kids with glasses or those with red hair for special events during school hours.
“Can you imagine the outrage?” he asks. “The people who started these events a decade ago weren’t mean-spirited. They just didn’t understand.
“The district now only wants special-needs kids to be accepted as the norm. It’s what I want for Sophie. The kids she learns with today are going to be the people she needs to fix her bicycle, her wheelchair, to repair her roof.”
Sophie went to the senior prom, he said. She had a date. You should have seen the joy in her eyes, he said. He wants that for her, not some outing that costs class time and will only make it tougher for her to pass the next test.
“I am a constant advocate for her,” Ruggeri said. “Without Sophie, I wouldn’t be doing half the things I do. It has been such a blessing having her in our lives.”
Bill Johnson writes Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. Reach him at 303-954-2763 or wjohnson@denverpost.com.
