A Love Letter, a Plea, and a Prayer

It is Monday, a work day, and we are on our way to the Theler Wetlands. It is a perfect mid September day. The sun is out and I'm suited up in my railroad stripe overalls and a ribbed black crop tank. I am neither too hot nor too cold. It is some real Goldilocks weather out there. 

My husband is driving and as we snake along the waterfront with the windows down, a notification pops up on my phone. It’s a message from my son’s teacher. There was an incident in school today. He didn’t name names, but one student (who is already in a program to work on his social and emotional skills) attacked another student. There was very little provocation and the teacher had to pull the angry child off of the victim. The kids were evacuated from the classroom. All the right people came to the room in aid. The angry child had angry words and physically destroyed the room. 

My son had a little fever and cough so he didn’t go to school today. I got lucky, but not in the way you think. Yes, this was traumatic for the students. Some won’t be coming to school tomorrow. Some will come, but won’t feel safe. I am glad my son didn’t share in the experience.

I got lucky, because it wasn’t my kid that got angry. I’ve had several calls from the principal over the last few years. There were incidents on the bus, in the cafeteria, and on the playground. Each time it appeared that my son was the aggressor. I know my son. He is sweet, sensitive, and has a strong sense of fairness. But I have also seen him with his sister. I’ve seen him have his buttons pushed. It isn’t pretty. In the days following these incidents I could gradually tease information out of him. Each time there was more to the story. One time he was sure a kindergartener on the bus was sitting where she shouldn’t be. Another time he was quietly being verbally berated and the bully had insulted his mom. Were his responses appropriate in the situation? No. But I wasn’t surprised. 

I hope that the steps we’re taking now will prevent these incidents from happening again.  I can’t quite get him to eat all the fruits, vegetables, and fibers that would help his body remove toxins and heal his brain. But I can get him to take zeolite and chlorella and they are working. His brain is working better and we are on the right track.

I wonder if the parents of the boy today have tried everything they could. I wonder if they are suffering themselves. I wonder if they’ve had him tested for lead poisoning. I wonder if they even know that lead can cause or worsen cognitive and behavioral issues. I wonder if they know there is no safe amount of lead. I wonder if they know just changing their child’s diet can help. I wonder if they can afford the food. I wonder if they have the time and energy to cook it. I wonder if they google it and see that chelation is the treatment and that chelation can be dangerous.  I wonder if they will find the research about natural chelators like zeolite clinoptilolite and chlorella. I wonder if they will be misled by the dangers of the other kinds of zeolite. I wonder if they will think it’s just something for those crunchy people. I wonder if they will find out they are safe, cheap, and effective at painlessly removing lead, mercury, cadmium, arsenic, and chromium. I wonder if they will ask their doctor about heavy metal poisoning. I wonder what their doctor will say. I wonder if they even have a doctor. 

I want to know how to tell them that there’s one more thing to try. I want them to spend time with their son tonight and read to him and hug him. I don’t want him to be punished. I don’t want this to be anyone’s fault.

Our teachers are burning out. Administrators are overwhelmed. Our doctors can’t see what is happening in our homes and in our schools. Parents are exhausted. Our children know trauma. 

We are exposed to far more toxins than our parents were. They are collecting in our bodies. They are damaging our DNA. They are breaking us.

​Rebecca Brown