In eighth grade, there was this special needs boy that we saw on a daily basis with his assistant in his wheelchair. I always felt bad for him, having his feeding bags and other bags on display for everyone to see. It wasn't like it was his fault, and I often wondered if people made fun of him. Because if I was being bullied, he must have really had the short end of the stick.
At graduation, he rolls up in his electric wheelchair to receive his "certificate" (they were rolled up papers), and the entire class erupts into cheers and applause. We even did standing ovations as he crossed the stage.