Last weekend I went home to San Francisco, or more specifically, Hillsborough, California. I attended two out of three elementary schools, one being called “North School” while living in Hillsborough. At North, each student was required to help out in some sort of community activity such as helping out with the lower grades or working at the Bridge School. I was one of the very few in my class to choose the Bridge School.

The Bridge School was not something you’d find at an average elementary school. The definition provided on the website “a non-profit organization whose mission is to ensure that individuals with severe speech and physical impairments achieve full participation in their communities through the use of augmentative & alternative means of communication (AAC) and assistive technology (AT) applications and through the development, implementation and dissemination of innovative life-long educational strategies.” I have vivid memories of working with a girl who had a tube through her belly button so she could eat, and a boy who could not speak or walk. I worked mostly with the boy, hand feeding him, playing with him, and reading to him. I was ten, and he was thirteen, but I felt like we were on the same page. I’m not sure about what happened to him after I graduated, and I’m not sure if he’d remember me, but I do know that I’ll always remember him.

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