a boy and his horse

I was recently notified that Bentley and our family are invited to TROT's  (Therapeutic Riding of Tucson) annual gala on Saturday night. The news was a bit of a shock since we just moved to Tucson and started the program. Yet when I think about Bentley's progress it totally makes sense. The director also wrote a piece about Bentley in the spring newsletter.

Today as Bentley was preparing to ride his horse, Mr. T., Mary approached me to prep me for the questions she will ask me on stage. As I began to think about how I will answer the questions my eyes immediately filled with tears; and I realized that I want to document this story- Bentley's story- of a boy and his horse. 

When Bentley was 3 years old I found a wonderful preschool for him to attend. Lily had just been born and I was having a rough time- so he began his first full inclusive educational program. At the end of the spring the school took an annual trip to a place called Real Life Farm- located in Canton, MI. I found care for Clayton and Lillian- which was challenging and went on his first field trip. During this field trip Bentley rode a horse, held baby chicks, bunnies, kittens, and ducks. He fed baby goats and sheep. He milked a cow. I realized I had unlocked his heart. His love for animals and desire to be near them was not only obvious, but infectious. 

  

After the field trip I learned from the Down syndrome group that there was a therapy program called Great Strides located in Chelsea, MI that provided hippotherapy services for kids. Hippotherapy is basically doing speech or occupational or physical therapies while on a horse. This gives kids a chance to work on their skills in a new setting. Bentley loved his horse Bobbie at Great Strides. I used to drive him 75 minutes each way just for a 40 min session. It was tiring, but it was worth it. 

   

  

When we decided to move to Tucson I began searching horse therapy facilities so he could continue his love of riding. I found TROT online and drove over to meet the staff in person. I really like to meet people in person- it helps to get a feel for the facility and it helps avoid phone tag, etc.. They were able to find a riding time for Bentley and he began in September. 

It's hard to describe what happens when Bentley gets on his horse. He molds right to the saddle and sits straight up with a huge smile on his face. He listens carefully to the instructions given to him by his teacher and he just glows. For Bentley to be up safely on a horse it requires 1 instructor, 1 horse leader, and 2 side walkers to help with leg holding to make sure he doesn't fall off. The horse leader and side walkers are part of a large community of volunteers that make riding possible for Bentley and many others. 

This semester Bentley has learned two new skills- he has learned to guide Mr. T on his own through the cones. Yes, he has started riding independently. And he has started learning how to post- which is the up down motion a rider does in conjunction with the horse's trot stride. He sits up tall and he totally feels the rhythm of the horse. The first time I watched him do it my heart leapt with joy and my eyes poured out tears. 

What many people don't realize is that Bentley lives in a world of "can'ts" and "won'ts." 

He can't be left alone.

He can't ride a bike on his own.

He can't be on that team.

He can't fit in this group or that group.

He won't live on his own.

He won't drive a car. 

He won't be able to do that work.

He won't have a job- and if he does it'll be restaurant clean up or some other behind the scenes stereotypical job. 

I could probably go on for a long time. I could also say that the world of special needs advocates 

have reminded me of the important question, "Well why can't he?" I have learned to think creatively and out of the box. I have learned that getting Bentley what he wants takes work, but it pays off really well. I have also learned that there are organizations and people out in the world who don't see the can'ts, but they see the hows. How can we do this for a child or an adult with a disability? What will it take?

When Bentley was born I was flooded with information about concerns and can'ts and won'ts. I read books filled with statistics and challenges and what to watch out for and what to fight for. I remember during my postpartum season crying a. lot. I cannot describe the feeling of being simultaneously thankful and terrified of the future of my child. There was a time when I sat in the can'ts and won'ts. 

And then I slowly began to rewrite his future. And I wrote it my way- full of cans and wills. 

TROT is an organization that stands on cans and wills. Kids and adults in wheelchairs, with autism, or Down syndrome, or Cerebral Palsy, or Spina Bifida, and war veterans get up on horses and experience the therapeutic healing and joy that comes with riding. When Bentley arrives at the property he is loved and he is appreciated and he is told he can and will ride a horse. 

When we teach kids that they can do things it changes their expectations for themselves. Spring Hill camp was an excellent testimony and example to our family of what happens when we say, "YES!" At this Michigan camp, kids, regardless of their diagnosis and abilities- as long as something is medically possible- get to do whatever they want. From zip lining to wall climbing to swimming to horse back riding. In fact, Bentley was having a hard time doing the climbing wall once and his brother was moving with ease so one of the counselors put Bentley on his back and climbed the wall. What did this teach Bentley? It taught Bentley that he could climb a wall. Sure, he needed some assistance, but the lesson was in the opportunity; not in how it was executed. So one of the things TROT has continued to ingrain in Bentley's mind is another thing that he CAN do. The benefit of that belief transcends over time and over every aspect of his life. And the benefit of believing in himself- of trying new things- of succeeding in every day activities- paves the way for a bright and beautiful future. 

I have a lot of hopes and dreams for Bentley. I think it's important to dream big for him because it helps keep us all on course. I dream that one day he will live and work on some type of horse and/or animal farm. As he ages he may decide that he wants to do something else- which will be fine with me- but for now I want to take his passions and dream of how he can succeed in the future. I want to fill his life with cans and wills and not the can'ts and won'ts. I can't think of anyone who wants to live in the can'ts and won'ts- so why should he? I want to create spaces for successes and opportunities. 

I want him to be in a community that believes in him. I also want him to challenge the thinking of those who sit in the can'ts and won'ts. I want him to be a world view changer. 

Having a child with an intellectual disability is the most beautiful thing to have as I reflect on the world. To have a child that requires me to create, to dream, to hope, and to learn flexibility is to have the key to unlocking change in my own thinking. It has unlocked my narrow minded thinking from what once seemed so important- the American dream- the independent life- the traveling wanderer- to now thinking of others and considering ways for people of all abilities to live in community.

So now with my mind in the right thinking I can begin the journey of creatively thinking of ways that Bentley can drive- maybe a golf cart on the farm!

Ride a bike- covered now with the tandem!

Be on a team- call local sports groups to see who is inclusive- thanks Tucson Soccer Academy! 

Live on his own- with a roommate! 

Have a job- managing the farm! 

It seems like the world of cans is the kind of book Dr. Seuss would've written. It seems like living in the innocent imagination of a child- the kind that thinks up all kinds of creative ideas- and whether it's possible or not- you wouldn't dare crush that place. Let's hold on to that... yes, let's hold on to the innocent imagination of a child as we dream up the hopes and opportunities for a little boy in blue glasses who rides horses and expects the unexpected.