Field Trip to Hell

In early October, Connor’s teacher asked me to go on their field trip to a farm with them. I was able to do some rearranging at work and said yes even though I just had this feeling in the bottom of my stomach about it. 

A few days later the teacher emailed saying that she had ordered a wheelchair lift bus that because lift buses don’t seat as many people now they would have to get a second bus and that wasn’t budgeted. What I should have done was expressed empathy for her situation and then waited for them to figure it out.  Instead what I did was wait a couple of days and then offer to drive Connor separately. So that morning after everyone was ready to go, all 50-some kindergarteners headed to the bus while I headed to the CR-V with my kindergartener.  And so the field trip began.

Trying out the tractors on the playground

We got to the farm and the first thing they did was go to this massive playground.  It was a cool playground but it was built on grass with no walking paths. Not wanting Connor to be left out again I

spent the next 45 minutes pushing his wheelchair through grass and heaving him on and off the various elements he could “play” on.  He wasn’t so thrilled with most of it and by the time playtime was over we were both a sweaty mess.

After a quick lunch break we went back outside only to realize it had become unseasonably warm. I had dressed Connor and myself in pants as it was fall, but that was a mistake. The kids walked around looking at some animals which Connor really enjoyed and then went to produce packing section to watch them wash zucchini.  While it was a little rough pushing along rocked pathways, it was probably the most enjoyable part of the field trip.

Our next activity was a hayride to a pumpkin patch. There was no plan for Connor’s wheelchair, but luckily the dad on the trip helped me load it up the ladder staircase.  The ride was very bumpy and Connor started to cry.  Soon we got to the pumpkin patch and it was literally a dirt field with pumpkins growing in it.  I think in the back on my mind this whole time I just kept thinking, "They wouldn't really just take us to a field without telling me or making some kind of arrangements for Connor." Ha.

We maneuvered the wheelchair down to the field and put Connor in it. I looked ahead of me at all the clumps of dirt and vines.  How the hell were we going to go pick a pumpkin?  The other kindergarteners scattered – gleefully bounding through the field to find the perfect pumpkin.  Connor was on the verge of tears again and I wasn’t far behind.  I think his aide saw we were both at our breaking points because she offered to show him two pumpkins nearby the we could pick. I managed to push him a few feet but then just picked him up and carried him to the pumpkins she had found.  He didn’t care and made a half attempt to choose between the two.  We broke the pumpkin off the plant and headed back to the wagon.  Once we were all aboard, the tractor started back up and Connor lost his mind and started screaming and crying. The other kids were sweet and worried about him and I assured them he was just tired and overwhelmed, not hurt.  I sang songs quietly in his ear and reassured him this field trip to hell was almost over.

I’m not sure what the last part of the field trip involved.  Connor was still crying as we unloaded him and the wheelchair from the wagon. I looked at his teacher and said we were leaving.  I could tell she felt horrible that the day had been so tough. She hugged me and thanked me for coming.  By some miracle, I got out of the farm complex before bursting into tears.  We must have been a sight.  Both of us sobbing as we wheeled through the parking lot (which, of course, was not paved). 

We got to the car and blasted the air conditioning.  I sat there for a minute hating the world. Hating that the field trip was to a farm, hating that my son couldn’t have fun on his first field trip, hating that it was like 85 degrees in October. Hating the things that are hard for my family that most families don’t think twice about (and I know they don’t because we were one of those families until six years ago).

After I cooled down mentally and physically and Connor stopped crying, it was time for a big breath and the reality that it was time to move on with the day.  I had a meeting at work later that afternoon and Connor was expected at Kinder Care.  Not a day to quit trying. 

I struggle with what’s fair for me to expect in these situations. Is it fair for me to expect that the kindergarten field trip be someplace accessible?  Is it fair for me to expect others to think through activities and make sure Connor can participate? Is it fair for me to say no the next time they ask me to go on the field trip? I imagine I will wrestle with these and a hundred more questions through Connor’s elementary school career.  

But this I do know – we are done with farms for a while.