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The Spokesman-Review Newspaper
Spokane, Washington  Est. May 19, 1883

Getting the word out


Hannnah Cvancara, 10, and her mother Anne sort Hannah's old prosthetics by size in front of their north Spokane home. Hannah was born without a femur and has worn a prosthetic from the time she could walk.
 (Joe Barrentine The Spokesman Review / The Spokesman-Review)

It’s hard to ignore Hannah Cvancara’s prosthetic leg.

The one she currently uses is bright green and decorated with pictures of kittens. She has worn others over the years festooned with horses or hummingbirds.

Cvancara, who was born without a fibula, has never been one to hide the fact that she wears prosthesis.

And so, when she started a new school a couple of years ago at Oaks Classical Christian Academy in Spokane, she decided to be as open as possible about her disability.

At an all-school assembly, in front of nearly 300 students, she showed off her leg and answered questions. She explained that she has used a prosthesis ever since she could walk, after being born without one of the bones in her leg.

“So I wouldn’t have to go to each individual person and tell them,” says the girl, who turns 11 next month. “It’s just been much easier.”

Anybody who has spent time on a playground knows that kids can be merciless in their teasing, especially of those who are different. Often, though, the name-calling and taunts stem from fear or simply lack of knowledge.

So, some parents of children with disabilities or chronic illnesses are finding ways to make sure the whole classroom – or even the entire school – knows about the child’s condition. But that can be a tough decision to make.

Do you go public and risk embarrassing a child? Or do you keep mum and leave classmates gossiping?

“The primary concern is really the child’s comfort level,” says Cindy Perry, director of school health services for the Coeur d’Alene School District. “It really is just like walking a tightrope, assuring the children’s safety while at the same time protecting their confidentiality …

“Each child is so different. Some children just want everybody to know. And other children are not wanting anybody to know and are very shy about it.”

Perry and the other school nurses sometimes go into classrooms to explain a child’s health condition. They’ve given presentations about epilepsy, for example, after a student has had a seizure in class.

Getting the word out to a child’s class starts with informing school personnel about the condition, school nurses say.

“It’s very important that parents keep the school updated whenever there’s a change,” says Kathe Reed-McKay, coordinator of health services for Spokane Public Schools.

Forms at school registration time each year ask parents to list a child’s health issues. And a new form being used in Spokane schools this year asks parents to update any conditions they’ve listed in the past, McKay says.

But parents should take it a step further than the paperwork if their child has a chronic health problem or disability, she says. “I don’t think this process should ever take the place of a parent making a contact with the teacher about the child’s health condition.”

That’s what Spokane Valley resident Dan Rash does each year. His daughter’s life depends on it.

Hannah Rash, who turns 10 next month, is deathly allergic to peanuts, eggs and milk. So, each year, her dad presents Hannah’s teacher with a packet of information about her allergies. And he brings in a bag of candies that meet his daughter’s dietary restrictions, so she gets something when the class has treats.

“Be pushy and keep at it” is his advice to other parents.

When her son was young, Susan Otis of Sagle, Idaho, took the advice of his physical therapist. Curren, has a nondegenerative form of muscular dystrophy. He walks differently from other kids.

So, when Curren, now 20, was in second grade, his mom came to his class and explained his condition.

“They were a little bit afraid of him,” Otis says. “They had lots of curious questions.”

She explained that everyone is different and that everyone has certain abilities and disabilities.

“Different is good,” Otis says.

Carrie Davis was born without a left arm and has worn a prosthesis her whole life. So it seemed totally natural when, one day in kindergarten, she forgot her show-and-tell item and used her arm instead.

“I became less of an enigma,” says Davis, now 35. “I don’t remember it, but the teacher called my mom and told her what a great thing I’d done.”

Davis, who lives in Spokane, is now a consultant for a prosthetic company and runs a camp for kids with “limb differences.”

Before that, though, she taught high school at North Central and started each year with a discussion of her arm and “the differences you can see and the differences you can’t see.”

Hannah Cvancara says she made the right decision, introducing herself at the all-school assembly. She never gets teased, but sometimes even the positive attention can get a little old.

Anne Cvancara remembers one day her daughter came home from school looking down in the dumps. She thought maybe Hannah had been picked on. Just the opposite.

“I think people only like me because of my leg,” the girl told her mom.