Our city has a Mayor's Committee on the Employment of Persons with Disabilities, and it annually organizes Diversity Days, two days of educational sessions in the local elementary schools. At these sessions, designed to heighten students' sensitivity to the disabilities of some of their peers, school children move from station to station to participate in activities that simulate various disabilities; and in trying to complete the tasks at a certain station, the students experience what it might be like for a person with that particular disability.
Faithful readers will recall that the local newspaper loves our daughters; it's nearly a monthly thing to find a photo of one or more of them in the paper. This morning it was Abigail's turn again. I can't find the photo in the online version of the newspaper, but it's of her and a classmate blindfolded at a table, and the caption says, "Fifth-grader Abigail Moberg tries to put shapes in their correct spot during a vision restriction exercise on Tuesday as part of Diversity Days." Superstar.
Many of the volunteers who help run Diversity Days are education students from the university, so most of them know me by virtue of their being or having been my students. Abigail had this conversation with a couple of the university students at one of the stations:
Volunteers: [seeing Abigail's name tag] I think I know your father.
Abigail: I think you do, too. Who do you think he is?
Volunteers: Professor Moberg.
Abigail: You're right.
Volunteers: If you're naughty, we can tell him about it.
Abigail: And if you are naughty, I can tell him about it.
Volunteers: Well, I guess it goes both ways.
Abigail: Yes, it does.