Previously I discussed what a diagnosis is and what it isn’t here. Continuing on this thread I want to talk about the word disability.
Growing up I did not personally know anyone with a disability. School was probably the first place I saw someone with a disability. It didn’t happen a lot. Occasionally I would see someone with a disability exit or enter a school bus. I knew there was a classroom at school tucked way in the back of the building where the special ed kids went. The only reason I even knew this was because I watched them get off the small buses and enter that classroom. Once they went in, I never saw them again. Unless I happen to be outside when they were boarding the buses. I don’t remember anyone really talking about disabilities at school. They may have but I was too busy in my kid world to have paid attention.
I was pretty much oblivious to the world of disability throughout my childhood. I would get glimpses now and then. But that was it. It wasn’t until high school that I actually met someone with a disability. She was in my art class and her wheelchair caught my attention right away. Not because she was in one but because I didn’t know how she managed the stairs in a wheelchair. There were no elevators in our high school. Now here’s where my memory gets foggy. I know she told me how she navigated the stairs. I also know she told me about her disability. Unfortunately, I don’t remember what she said. Had I known one day I would write a blog post about it, I would’ve written it down somewhere. But I’m guessing her secret to navigating the stairs was an elevator none of us students knew about.
This was the most interaction I had with anyone with a disability. Everything else I learned came from textbooks. And truth be told, most of it was negative.
The struggle
So when my son got diagnosed, I struggled with the word disability. Did having a disability mean my son wasn’t perfect? Because everything I learned about disability pointed in that direction. Yet I only saw perfection every time I looked at him. He was so full of life and energy. He certainly didn’t seem sad or unhappy with his life (I talk more about that here). Granted he was only one years old at the time but he looked perfectly content with who he was.
Basically, I had two opposing viewpoints. On one side were all the things I understood about disability and on the other side was my son. Who seemed to contradict everything I learned. I could not understand this discrepancy. The word disability seemed so straightforward when I was learning about it in school. Yet here I am, years later with a son who has a disability. I realized for the first time I had believed some common misconceptions about disability.
What have I learned?
Basically, the misconception involves drawing the wrong conclusions. It is true a disability is different and not the norm. It is also true someone with a disability may need to use assistive devices or accommodations. However, what is false is that this means imperfection or inferiority. Neither does it warrant pity or sorrow. The bottom line is that everyone deserves respect. Because disability or not, we are all created in God’s image.
God created my son. His body is not typical but it is still wonderfully complex. He definitely can not do all the things I can but this doesn’t make his life terrible. A narrow definition of disability and perfection does not change the fact God made him perfectly magnificent. Psalms 139:13-14