In Hawaii, we tell stories to teach our keiki (children). We use these teachable moments, these mo`olelo (stories), to connect with our listeners. One of these mo`olelo tells of a Bowl of Light. Imagine each child being born with a bowl of light that shines ever so brightly. The light brings all the gifts and special qualities of the child forward. But then there are troublesome things that diminish that light or rocks that are placed in that bowl that may represent trauma, unkind words, bullying, or anxiety. Those rocks eventually cover up the light, which hides all the good things about the child. It is up to us to help our children uncover and remove those rocks in life so that their light may shine bright again.
Facing Challenges: Military Transitions and Special Needs
My two children both have beautiful bowls filled with light and musical talents, math skills, and inquisitiveness. They live with disabilities of Autism, Tourette’s Syndrome, Oppositional Defiance Disorder, Dyslexia, and other special health care needs. Transitions for them are never easy. PCSing to a new state or country can be quite a challenge, even for typically developing children. For my children, their very first move to the continent was Maryland during winter. There was no more sunshine, waves, or surf, and no more being surrounded by `ohana, our precious family, to help us navigate this change. We were all alone in a strange new world. A rock was dropped in their Bowl of Light.
Navigating New Schools and Social Struggles
A new school for my middle school daughter meant new teachers had to learn her accommodations and needs. The bullying in middle school came quickly, and anxiety heightened—another rock. My son’s new experience at the local Child Development Center (CDC) meant a new team of teachers and support staff ready to meet his sensory and communication needs. But on the first day, they sent him home early because they couldn’t stop his tantrum after forcing him to put his socks back on after naptime (he had never worn shoes before)—another rock.
The Weight of Change: Rocks That Dim the Bowl of Light
The rocks kept on piling on for little things that shouldn’t have mattered, but it started to hide their light. One rock for having to learn to wear heavy, cold weather clothes, another for the missed school days due to evaluations and testing to settle in. Catty girls teased my daughter for leaving class to speak to counselors and therapists, adding a rock. A rock for not making any friends in time for the holidays. Another rock for my stressed-out children who had to get lost with mom in the van to navigate a huge city and the Walter Reed Hospital. Their light grew dimmer.
Finding Support: How EFMP and Advocates Made a Difference
Then, a phone call came from the Exceptional Family Member Program (EFMP) office. Our “warm handoff” had just taken a little longer than usual and the time had finally come to set up in Maryland. The light seemed to shine through. The lovely lady at the EFMP office on base lifted a rock from my children’s bowl when she signed them up for free sensory activities to make friends. The fierce school liaison officer removed a rock for my son when she attended a parent meeting at the CDC with me to advocate for more adult support. She then continued her fight for us at the district level to end the bullying and created suicide prevention talks. The knowledgeable staff at the local Parents Place of Maryland removed several rocks when they taught me skills to speak up and out about my children’s needs and to be their first and foremost advocate.
Shining Bright Again: Rediscovering the Light Within
My best choice when transitioning to a new space was to seek parent support groups and advocacy organizations. Once I learned of nonprofits, like Partners in PROMISE (PiP), dedicated to helping parents like me, I dove into learning communication skills and special education law to build my confidence in advocacy. I then learned that I could remove those rocks on my own. I could help my children shine their light to focus on the good they bring and their talents. And when they are ready, they will shine brightly in this world.
About the Author
Mai K. Hall
Mai was born and raised in Kalihi, Hawaii. As a former preschool teacher, public school teacher, Hawaiian culture Kumu, and non-profit program manager, Mai brings a diverse perspective to the field of early learning as an early childhood advocate for over 20 years. She has worked and volunteered in various settings, including center-based care, family child care, family-child interaction learning programs, shelters, the Department of Education, and Kamehameha Schools. Mai received both her B.Ed. and M.Ed. from the University of Hawai`i at Manoa, emphasizing early childhood education and Hawaiian culture.
Her life experiences of childhood trauma, houselessness, teenage pregnancy, domestic violence, and battling mental illness have fostered resiliency and protective factors in Mai, which she uses to advocate for others in similar situations. She served on various boards and non-profits to lend her lived experiences and expertise to engage partners and stakeholders. She has served on the Executive Board for the Hawaii affiliate chapter of the National Association for the Education of Young Children (HiAEYC) for seven years, which fueled her advocacy efforts for preschool providers and children. Mai serves as the Co-Chair of the Honolulu Community Childrenʻs Council (CCC) and as a parent representative on the Special Education Advisory Council (SEAC) to advocate for children with disabilities and special health care needs. As a parent of two children with disabilities, she is committed to improving systems, services, and positive outcomes for our Keiki. She values service, initiative, learning and wisdom, passion and compassion. Her personal mission statement requires self-love, acceptance, and forgiveness, which forges her path toward peace and a capacity to love others. Aloha aku, aloha mai.
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