Blogging Against Disablism - (updated and expanded version)

The Shopping Trip- Part 2

THE PROBLEM
After having Falafel for lunch, Ricki and I passed a clock store, and since I needed a watch, we entered. Ricki quickly convinced me to purchase her a timepiece. And then, as almost any teen, but with perhaps a bit less finesse, she started begging me to purchase other items for her, all the while handling them. The seller was thankfully calm, but I kept telling Ricki to return the objects that I had no intention of spending money on. And Ricki DID put the objects back, although slowly and with great reluctance. Like a lot of other 14 year old girls that I have known....
We had to wait in the store a few minutes while the owner put a battery in a watch I was purchasing. Meanwhile a man entered the store. I was in the middle of telling Ricki to put a pair of toy binoculars away. He saw her shrug once or twice, and he walked over, exclaiming “How much are these binoculars?” He then GRABBED them from Ricki’s hands, despite her fierce protestations, looked through them for a moment, then put them on the counter, and walked out.
To tell you the truth, I can take the word “retard”, when not used as a slur. I can even usually take the second glances. But the thing that shows me how far we have to go, are the people who act like Ricki does not even exist. And those who act as if she is incapable of learning. I was so shocked by this man’s behavior that I didn’t even react until he had left. Did he really feel that he would teach her manners by grabbing the binoculars? Probably not-he evidently thought that I was incapable as a mother, and Ricki was not smart enough to learn. Or did he even think at ALL? Did his actions not proclaim as loudly as any scream, that Ricki was not a person in his eyes, she was only “Down syndrome”.
And even platitudes like “These children are so loving...” drive me up the wall. Such statements are simply reducing a child with Down syndrome to an entity called “Down syndrome”, not Ricki, Jane, or Avigail. It is true that some times we may need to make a statement about Down syndrome. I can see myself saying that “statistics show us that about 50% of the people with Down syndrome are born with heart defects”. I tell parents that “researchers have seen that in general, children with Down syndrome are visual rather than auditory learners”. But they are NOT “children like these”. They are not “Down syndrome”. They are individuals.















THE CONSEQUENCE
The PROBLEM (with a BIG capital “P”) is that Ricki has adopted their attitude. When she was younger her aid and I worked hard and carefully to give her a good sense of self, Down syndrome, and of its effect on her life. Using stories about people with disabilities, including someone else with Down syndrome, we talked about disability, meeting challenges, and self pride. And we succeeded.... for a while. But about a year and a half ago a group of much younger girls at her school started making fun of her, and calling her names. They were reprimanded, but Ricki, being smart, picked up their message. And Down syndrome became something that she did not want to be. And that, in my mind, is a tragedy.
[I am not talking here about availing oneself of a cure, should one exist. Treating her Down syndrome would not change her intrinsic being or personality, but would simply make her life easier and open opportunities that are currently, for her, sealed with padlock, nuts, and bolts.]
If Ricki is to attain a life of contentment, it can only be achieved if she feels that she is a worthwhile, contributing being on the planet. To internalize that consensus, she needs to receive targeted, appropriate, and true praise for the many things she does. She needs, as much as the “negroes” in the 60’s needed the mindset that “Black is Beautiful”, a feeling that Down syndrome is not a disgrace or that she is an entity to be pitied.
The problem is that as much as I am putting good hard cash into her “self esteem” bank account, she is being robbed and swindled by the man on the street. And, unfortunately, there is no police.......


Blogging Against Disablism Day

icad reports that a man in Arizona got life imprison rather than the death sentence for cruelly killing a three-year old with a developmental disability. How much do you want to bet that if the child was normal, with parents who missed her, that this evil creature would have recieved the death penalty? Another example of our blood being only pink, not red......

The Morning After / Special Exposure Wednesday

It’s “the morning after” elections, and for us, the morning after the wedding. (Comments on the election in a moment.) Yesterday before leaving for the wedding, I snapped a picture of Ricki in her finery.
The wedding was very lively, and well-planned by my daughter and her groom. Even though it was in a very out-of-the-way place, I was warmed by the number of friends who made the effort to attend.
* * * * *
Although I had my doubts about Obama, specifically due to my doubt that he will be a supporter of Israel, I must say that America can say “We’ve come a long way, baby.”
I remember when we visited Florida as a child, seeing at gas stations three bathrooms:
Men
Women
Colored
(And I remember my parents having us all sit at the "colored" soda counter in the department store.)
The fact that America has elected a non-white president highlights the changes that have come over America in the intervening years (although not ALL of these changes have been for the better.)(When I read that he "is the president of the 'hip-hop' generation", I was NOT enthusiastic.) But America has come a long way.

The Sins of Our Youth

In the US news there is a story about an autistic child, mainstreamed, who was voted out of his classroom by his first-grade classmates. Apparently they were definitely egged on by their teacher. I find it amazing that two children in the class voted to keep the kid in the class, considering that the teacher was basically giving them the message to "vote him out"!

But I want to touch on another point.
Dave Hingsburger, a person active in the disability community, writes in his bog:
"The kid who was shunned by 14 of his classmates when put to trial by a teacher trained under supervision of Adolph. Everyone waxed poetic about the behavior of this teacher - the damage to the self esteem of that kid - the failure of mainstream education. And they should. These are all huge issues. Issues I'd like to write about. But can't.

Because I don't know if I would have been one of the 14 or one of the 2 who voted for him. God knows I experienced bullying at school, shunned for a thousand reasons by my classmates, made to feel isolated and alone. I can IDENTIFY with the kid. That should guarantee that I would have stood with him, by him, for him. But it doesn't and I know it doesn't."

I think that many persons, when they suddenly enter the "disability world" (by having a special needs child or some other contact with disability), feel guilty about how they treated the disabled in the past. And we all have memories of things we did when we were kids/in high school, that we REALLY would like to do over again, handling it in a more mature way. (I still feel guilty for a nasty remark I made to a kid I disliked in high school.) (Gee, I just thought-- maybe I can look him up in the class listing on internet and apologize. Not a bad idea....)
But I think that as kids, most of our reactions to the disabled will have been due to the input we received from our parents, and to a lesser degree, our teachers.

I was lucky that my parents raised us not to be scared of people with disabilities. I remember that when I was very young, we had no TV at home, and my parents wanted to let us watch "The Nutcracker Suite" at their acquaintances' house. This family had a child with Down syndrome, and my mom mentioned the fact before we went to watch the program. She did not want me to have a negative reaction to the child. (In the end we never met this boy. I don't know if this is because the child was being hidden from us, his parents perhaps being scared of our reaction, or if he happened to be asleep.) I have also mentioned previously (December 3rd) how my parents reacted to my friendship with a mentally impaired neighbor. But even I can not say with complete certainty that as a KINDERGARDEN kid I would have bucked the teacher's encouragement to prejudice.
So I will say that the biggest crime that this teacher did was not to the autistic boy, but to the remaining classmates, in that she taught them to HATE.

Anything but Typical

You know, my Dad is a great guy. A tall, strapping WW2 vet waiting for discharge from the army, he met my mom when someone played a practical joke. Someone was supposed to set my mom up with a date- someone short, as her height is petite. And this person set her up with the tallest soldier he could find… my Dad. But he looked beyond my Mom's diminutive stature and saw her tall sense of spirit and goodness.
My parents raised us with a deep sense of justice. When our school put on the play "The Merchant of Venice", my parents (who are NOT Jewish), sat me down and explained, in advance, the anti-Semitism in the play. I am sure none of my classmates received that lesson.
When we visited Florida, our parents had us sit in the "colored" soda fountain as a protest to segregation. [I felt sorry for the poor waitress who seemed flustered by what she thought (at least at first) was a mistake.] The message was clear: stand up for what you believe!
We had a neighbor who was a mentally-impaired young man, living with his family. As a girl (I think about 10 years old?), I spent a period where I played in his back yard daily with him. My mom warned me (I think at the urging of the young man's mom) that even though he was disabled, he had feelings and drives like all other young men, and I should be aware and take care. But she did it in a way that did not scare me, nor did she in any way pressure me to stop playing there.
And all of this was in the early 60's. It was definitely not your typical Midwestern town upbringing. Not surprising, as my parents are anything but typical.
Happy birthday Dad!