Brian Henshon of Wilbraham has Down syndrome. When he was six years old, he started taking piano lessons, just like his three older siblings had at his age.
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WILBRAHAM -- "Go warm up the piano, Bri," Elaine Henshon said to her son.
Brian Henshon, 39, stood from his seat next to the wood stove in his parents' Wilbraham home and headed into the next room. The tinkling of piano keys soon followed.
Elaine Henshon went to stand behind him, reading the sheet music over his shoulder, and turning the page when the time came.
Brian Henshon has Down syndrome. When he was 6 years old, he started taking piano lessons, just like his three older siblings had at his age.
That's because his parents, Elaine and Thomas Henshon, made a decision when he was born that their child with special needs would be raised in an ordinary way.
"We just brought him home with the rest of our children," Elaine Henshon said. And that's how they raised him -- as just one of the kids, "not as a special needs kid."
All the kids took piano lessons, so Brian took piano lessons. They all did swimming lessons, so Brian started swimming lessons. By age 6, he could swim the length of a pool, just like his siblings.
Henshon, 74, calls his talents for swimming and music "miracles." She said she always felt that with all of their children, she and her husband were "mining" to find their talents. They expected great things from Brian, and that's what they got.
Those successes led the family to make a short video earlier this year to document Brian's story and his parents' philosophy on raising him.
The nine-minute video, called "Finding Miracles," has been viewed more than 3,600 times since it was posted on YouTube Oct. 26.
"It's sort of always been a dream for me," Henshon said of the project. In an interview at her home in November, she said she told her children that they needed to make it happen in 2015.
They contacted videographer Garret Harkawik, who met with the family and shot footage of Brian swimming and playing duets with his piano teacher. Thomas and Elaine Henshon described on camera that though they did not know what Down syndrome was until Brian's birth, they quickly accepted the situation and moved on with raising him like any other baby.
Henshon said her hope for the video is that it will be "sort of an inspiration to parents who have children like ours."
Every child has talents, she said, and finding them is so important for a child with special needs. "So many times people have abilities, and they miss them," she said.
'All we need is more courage'
In a gray sweatshirt and black pants, Brian leaned forward on the couch, considering his mother's question. She had asked him which composer was his favorite to play on the piano.
"Bach," he replied.
Brian had a quiet, relaxed air about him throughout the interview, and he brings that sense of ease to many things in his life. He has performed at piano recitals in front of large crowds, competed on his high school and Special Olympics swim teams, and, most recently, been the subject of Harkawik's short movie.
When asked whether any of these things made him nervous, his answer was the same: No, they were "just fun."
Brian was the fourth child born to Elaine, a programmer, and Thomas, a builder. His siblings are Andrew Henshon of Longmeadow, Matthew Henshon of Wellesley, and Suzanna Henshon of Naples, Florida.
Right after he was born, doctors told the couple that Brian would probably never talk or walk, and it would be best to institutionalize him.
"We were urged to put him away. We just couldn't," Henshon said, sitting in the den across from Brian.
"We were ignorant of it all, but we wouldn't follow the advice of the doctors. That meant we had to step off the trolley, so to speak, and figure it out ourselves," she said, adding with a shrug, "Maybe all we need is more courage."
They brought him home and cared for him just as they had their other three children. The kids learned what the term Down syndrome means, as well as what it didn't mean. It didn't mean that he wasn't going to do the same things that they did -- including play music, Henshon said.
She remembered how their late piano teacher, Dorothy Guion, used to call each of the children to the piano for their lessons. When Brian turned 6, she called him, too.
"She said, 'Alright, Brian, I'm ready for you,'" Henshon recalled. "I think it was a surprise for the kids" at first, she said. But then they just forgot about it.
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Henshon said that she sometimes had to fight for Brian to be able to do things, when others thought something was beyond his ability.
"It was always iffy if you asked someone for permission," she said. "I would try not to ask for permission. I would just assume."
That's why she was nervous when Brian was attending Minnechaug Regional High School and she approached the then swim coach to ask if Brian could join the team. Henshon provided his times for various strokes, and waited to hear the reaction.
The coach said that the team needed more male swimmers, and he was welcome to join.
"So he was on the team," she said with a smile. "Walking out, I clicked my heels."
Henshon is sure that having Brian on the team was also good for the other swimmers.
The swimmers learned about someone with special needs, saw he had his own talents, and became more comfortable around him. "It's a hard thing for people because different is always on the frightening side," she said.
After aging out of Minnechaug at 22, Brian continued swimming for fun and trained for the Special Olympics. In the interview he rattled off the strokes he's mastered: freestyle, backstroke, breaststroke, and his favorite: butterfly.
A couple times a week while his mother does tai chi, Brian spends 90 minutes swimming laps at the YMCA in town. He has been keeping track of the miles he has logged since February, and recently passed the 300-mile mark.
Elaine and Thomas Henshon have coached Brian's swim team for the Special Olympics for more than 25 years. It gives them another chance to try to encourage those with special needs, and "mine" for talents.
"We know what someone can do, and you learn how to ask them to do more," Henshon said of coaching. "We can get people to do better than they think they could."
An athlete may never get the stroke exactly right or have perfect form, but they can find ways to improve, she said. She recalled a swimmer who was not able to adjust her arm movements, but could be encouraged to kick with everything she had. The swimmer was thrilled to reach her goal of a better time, Henshon said.
"It just strikes me that we need high expectations for our children, and that's kind of what the doctors took away from me at the hospital," she said. "We got it back."
She hopes that the video might encourage other parents of kids with special needs, who may be told to accept that their child is unable to do things.
"We didn't say, 'he can't play the piano or swim," she said. "We need to have expectations that our kids can learn and grow."
Now that the Henshons' video is out there and creating waves, Henshon said she was surprised by the number of people who have reached out to her about it.
"I'm honored they actually looked at it," she said. "And told me it meant something to them."
Many said it was heartwarming, she said, which pleased her.
"It's a heart thing," Elaine Henshon said. "It's from the heart."
