Mary is a freshman in my P.E. class.  She's an enthusiastic cheerleader, a lover of music, and an incorrigible flirt.  She's ecstatic about finally turning sixteen and anxiously awaits her first date.  She lives for weekends, dislikes homework and loves to get dressed up.  She's your typical freshman except for one thing -- Mary has Down Syndrome.

     When I first met Mary, I was struck by her innocent appearance.  Her small stature and imp-like face gave her an appealing, childish look.  Her bright laugh and excited smile seemed to suggest a certain sweetness in her character.  As she chatted away enthusiastically about her summer and then commented on the cute boys in our class, I smiled to myself.  Mary was going to be a great partner; I would have no trouble keeping her in line.

     I soon discovered that I had highly underestimated the strength of the personality housed in this little body.  Mary has proved to be a very complex mixture of emotions and personalities.  Over the past few weeks, her moods have ranged from jealous anger and sulky silence to willful disobedience and outright stubborness.  Mary has learned all of my buttons and has become an expert "pusher."  Life with Mary is a daily challenge and at times I feel like I'm losing the battle.  She is so hard to reach out to; Mary seems out of place in our world.

     Attention appears to be the driving force in Mary's life.  She is at times the clown, at others the actress.  Her injuries are catastrophes and her successes are miracles.  She sings, she dances, she cries, all to get the attention of those around her.  Mary is a performer and the world is her stage.  She loves to do the splits just to see the reaction of her audience.  Mary delights in shocking and entertaining those around her.  Shyness is not in Mary's vocabulary.

     One of Mary's favorite attention-getting tactics is talking to her imaginary friends.  She has long conversations with a friend named Cathy and periodically fights with a boyfriend named Rob.  (They always seem to make up.)  It's a little awkward to watch her talk to the air.  The dreamy look in her eyes and the intensity of her discussions seem to separate her from the rest of us.  Our opinions don't matter to her; she is completely content to live in her pretend world.  Watching her, I often wonder if she's really happy in our world at school.  Does she really pretend, just to get attention, or does she need to escape the surroundings we force her to accept?  Sometimes I feel like maybe I'm the stranger in her world.  Maybe in Mary's eyes I'm the intruder.

     Maybe in Mary's eyes I'm a typical student except for one thing -- I don't have Down Syndrome.