Sue Schindler

Enjoy The Small Steps

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It was nearly three years ago when a beautiful young woman, who, at 21, was just reaching her adulthood, was taken from this world too soon. Katy Schindler got so much joy out of riding horses, strumming a guitar and playing baseball. Her face wore a huge smile every time her bat hit a ball. More than that, she simply loved life and savored every moment. Grudges were never part of her vocabulary. She had a gift for bringing out the best in others too, which no doubt, was why friends adored her. And why she was a shining star to her parents – my friends Sue and Bob Schindler.

Katy had all the qualities I admire in someone. I so much wish I could have gotten to know and enjoy Katy personally.  I have come to know the incredible person that Katy was from her mother sharing the memories that Sue will forever hold in a special place in her heart.

Sue Schindler of Cincinnati shares her story of inspiration about the Princeton High School graduation of her daughter who has cerebral palsy. Last week Sue gave a speech to our Toast of the Town Toastmasters Club about Katy’s graduation. It is a story that touched me and I have a feeling will touch you too.

Thanks Sue (and Bob), for sharing your gift with my readers!

Enjoy the Small Steps by Sue Schindler

May 25, 2014, my husband and I are sitting at the Cintas Center at Xavier University as we watch the Princeton High School graduates walk on stage. I know that I’m holding my breath and my heart is in my stomach…UNTIL, “Kathryn Marie Schindler” is announced. Our daughter has already walked up the make-shift steps to the stage. She’s gracefully accepted her diploma from Principal, Wm. Sprankles.

Bob and I are ecstatic! We hug; leave our seats and run down to greet Katy who is now in the hallway. We tell her that we love her and are so proud of her!

You may ask, “Sue, what’s so special about your daughter graduating? Students do it all of the time.” In 2014 at Princeton HS, students like my daughter didn’t participate in the graduation ceremony.

Katy was born with Cerebral Palsy. CP is a brain injury that causes motor damage. In Katy’s case, she toe-walks and could easily fall on the stage steps.  She also is very anxious when others call attention to her. Just saying, “Katy,” could cause her to become anxious for minutes until she calmed down.

When I approached Katy’s school team in 2013, I’m sure that they thought I had 2 heads. Why make this difficult on Katy? The diploma can be sent through the mail. …..But that isn’t the vision we had for her.

Fortunately, Katy had a very smart and supportive school team. Her teachers, special education director, Kim Pence, or others never said, “No!” Instead, they were very respectful. They asked how this would look and immediately started putting a plan in place. That’s when our team became an even stronger village of support.

For starters, Bob, Katy and I attended the Princeton Graduation 2013. Although air horns and loud screaming were prohibited, it still happens. How would we help Katy get used to the noise?

In January 2014, we approached Xavier University events planners and they approved Katy going into the Center starting in March. By that time, the stage was set for the high school graduations. Katy’s caregiver, Clarice Simms, who was more like that big sister that she never had, and Katy would drive to Cintas after school. Clarice or I would yell, “Kathryn Marie Schindler,” as Katy navigated the stairs, stage and noise.

Instead of Katy waiting until the “S’s” were called, teachers, Jen Schell & Amy Liebat, arranged for Katy to receive her diploma in the beginning of the ceremony. Many of the students already weren’t alphabetized. They also practice with Katy at the Cintas Center. Jen arranges for Clarice to have a cap & gown so that Katy can walk in-between them. Katy can also leave the gym after receiving her diploma as the group walked back to their seats.

It’s now May 25th. Katy is on the bus with the other graduates to the Cintas Center. The moment is up to her.

Bob and I have some time before the ceremony. We stop into the FreeStore/FoodBank to pick-up t-shirts for the Hunger Walk they are sponsoring on Memorial Day. I’ve often been told that there are no coincidences in life. On this day, I believe it. I run into a former parent whose son I taught when he was 5 years old. Peggy was an advocate back in the day while students were still segregated. As I express my fears, she looks at me and calmly says,

“Would Katy have bought into the graduation ceremony a year ago?”

I say, “No. “That’s one small step and one victory.”

“Even if Katy just goes into the Cintas Center and runs out of the building, it’s a victory.” Instead of worrying, look at every small step as a victory.”

I took Peggy’s advise as I sat down that day and waited to see what happened. Katy didn’t disappoint and the look of accomplishment on her face was one I will always remember.

Sometimes I look back and wonder if we should have challenged her to be part of the 2014 ceremony. Those who were there, give us a resounding, “YES!” Their comments seem to be the same with mentioning “the look” on Katy’s face as she waited for us in the hallway. She knew she accomplished something very special.

So often in life we choose not to take that first small step out of fear of not accomplishing. However, if we take that first step, we can build and build and build into bigger steps.

I challenge you to take that first step and find the joy in doing just that. Not only will you have the pride of accomplishment, but you will also go onto bigger steps…. Just like Katy.

 

Sue Reminds Us To See Possible Greatness

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Sue Schindler remembers the moment as if it was yesterday. She was eight years old and she was terrified. Sitting beside her was her dad who was about to call her third-grade teacher. For a young daughter of a father who was known to raise his voice now and then, those few seconds of uncertainty felt like an eternity. “In those days,” she recalled, “kids were called on the carpet in class either because they were disruptive or were academically struggling. I was the second.”

Sue Schindler of Cincinnati shared life lessons at Toast of the Town of Kenwood Toastmasters Club, reminding us to look for greatness in ourselves and others.Sue dramatized the impact of her early years before our Toast of the Town of Kenwood Toastmasters Club this past week in a speech, and with it, some powerful lessons that we all can learn from.

“I didn’t care about academics that year.,” Sue continued. “Mrs. Seim would walk through the room and look at our papers. She would look at me and say, ‘You are just not like your sisters.’ What she meant was, I was stupid. I wasn’t understanding and my sisters were so much smarter.”
Such a deflating choice of words from an adult who, in that moment, could have just as easily bolstered her student instead. Had Mrs. Seim delved into why Sue wasn’t achieving high scores like her sisters, that third grade teacher would have learned it was just at the end of the last school year when Sue’s mother died suddenly. That kind of tragedy is not easy for anyone, especially a little girl who would never again have her mom to greet her in the morning or to ask her about her day in the evening.

Luckily for Sue, she had a father who understood.

“My dad was really cool and assured me that I would catch up,” Sue told us. “That was a special time with him. One of the things I loved about my dad was that he never said to me, ‘You are not like your sisters.’ Instead he’d looked at what I was studying and went, ‘No wonder you didn’t understand it. This is how I learned it in school. And this is how I am going to teach you.’
And all of a sudden I caught up.”

At the end of that year, Sue was promoted to fourth grade. And she was super excited to be able to spend her days surrounded by friends. However, instead, she was sent to general education. Again, Sue was devastated. She had worked so hard to catch up…and it didn’t matter. It didn’t pay off.

It was yet another lesson in punishment for a girl who had not even reached her teen years.

“The first time I stepped into Mrs. Clark’s room I could feel a difference. It was like right then she never saw any of us as having possible greatness. We were those general education kids she was forced to teach and to get that paycheck,” Sue recalled. “By the time I was in fifth grade, I was purposefully putting answers down incorrectly because I didn’t want to stand out as a kid who knew the answers when others didn’t.”
What a difference a year can make

Whether by fate or luck, in Sue’s sixth grade, she found herself in the classroom of Ms. Strickland, one of those very special teachers who saw in every child their awesomeness.

“She didn’t care what level you were on or what grade you were on, she knew that we all had possible greatness, and luckily, she took me under her wing and encouraged me,” Sue told us.

By the seventh grade, Sue was back with her friends and never looked back again.

Ms. Strickland and her dad made such a huge impact on Sue that while in college, she switched to special education path because, she told us, “I saw that those kids were the ones that were put into the basement classrooms, in the makeshift janitor closets. They were told they didn’t have possible greatness. If I could take what I learned from my dad and teach them at their ability level and say, ‘hey you guys are great,’ I knew I too could make a difference. And I did.”

With that, Sue looked out into our Club, and posed these two challenges.

1. It is so easy to label people without thinking even before a word comes out of your mouth. Instead, look at people for their potential greatness. Delete those labels and negative judgements. Reach out and say hi.
2. When you go home tonight, look in the mirror and see your own possible greatness and what you have to offer.

A personal note:

I most definitely see and admire Sue’s awesomeness. She and I first came to know each other when we worked together years ago at an organization called the Inclusion Network, which promoted the inclusion of people with disabilities. We reconnected on LinkedIn last year when she reached out to me, out of the clear blue, to tell me how impressed she was with my work on a project. Little did she know, it happened to be a time when I really needed encouragement. It was fate, just as it was fate for her to find herself in Ms. Strickland’s classroom at just the right time. Sue has been a shining light for me ever since. She is one of the most uplifting people I have ever come to know and has this magical way of bringing out the best in everyone. My world is a better place for having her in it.

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