You enroll and you find out soon enough that your major doesn’t matter to everybody else. The
school says they’re shutting it down. “It’s only for graduate students,” they say. There’s a million reasons you hate that email, but you have to respond anyway. There’s only a few early childhood special education majors! It’s a tiny program! There’s a high demand for teachers, and an even higher one for special education teachers.
Your school fails countless ADA requirements, too. Maybe there’s a pattern there. Every time you tell someone what you study, they call you patient and brave. You smile and do an awkward laugh. Maybe if you were actually patient or brave, you’d know how to correct them.
There’s only a handful of special education classes that the other early childhood education majors are required to take. None of them cut very deep. You notice those are usually the classes people skip. You brush it off as just being a silly and long class, but maybe it isn’t.
All your classes are in decrepit buildings with asbestos warning signs. It’s the same with every humanities program. The heating is broken and the school doesn’t provide enough chairs. Three people have to sit on the floor. Your professor doesn’t talk about special education. There are six people there studying it. Someone raises their hand to ask.
The professor says she doesn’t care about special education. She just never studied it. It all starts to make sense. She skips over the packet on justice themes in the classroom. She doesn’t revisit the topic. She says, “everyone in this room is going to be a lead teacher someday.” You aren’t. Your major is designed for several careers working with young children that have disabilities. Every person you meet in the major has listed careers other than lead teacher. The professor moves on.
Eventually, your classes are really focused on early childhood special education. The professors
love what they teach and you love what you learn. You love your classmates. You feel passionate. You still have to go back to your old professor next semester. You try not to let her bother you. No one will ever get to study this here again. You try not to let that bother you either.
Your major is dying. You’re one of the last few until it’s designated as a specialization: exclusive
to those who choose to study it. You worry about the future Early Childhood Education (EDEC) majors who might not take those classes. You worry about all the people who would’ve studied it in undergrad but can’t for a master’s degree.
Maybe they’ll keep EDSP for K-12, you think. As if that’s enough...