Why I do it


“I can’t, I have work after school”

“Oh, where do you work?”

“Remember I told you? I help that little boy with Autism”

“Oh yeah. Man, that’s going to look so good on college applications”


And I know it will. Is that why I do it?


Is that why I go to his house and help him read and write? Is that my motive for corralling him to the dinner table? Do I do this all simply to make myself attractive to colleges?


No. I don’t do it to look good. I don’t do it for myself. Why I do it is simple.


I do it for the amazement in his eyes as we walk through a park. I do it for the infectious laughter when I pull him in a wagon through a pile of leaves. I do it for the toothy grin after singing ‘The Itsy Bitsy Spider’.


I do it for him. I do it for the girl who always waits at the school door and never fails to belt out a loud hello. I do it for awareness, acceptance, and equality. I wear my blue puzzle pieces with ppride for them.


That’s why I do it.



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