Lately, it seems like every time I think about writing a post for this blog–or any of my own stuff, for that matter–work piles up before I can do it. It’s kind of like those snow drifts that blew in a couple of weeks ago. But I’m off today and back to start another month, so let’s get going.
You’ll recall that last time, we talked a little bit about the fact that there are a lot of narratives out there about the experiences of persons with disabilities’ caregivers and loved ones. I don’t discount those for a second. They are valuable, and they need to be heard. I even own a book or two that chronicles some of these experiences. Yet I continue to ask myself: are we hearing enough from PWDs about their own experiences?
I would say no, for a variety of reasons. The first, of course, is that a lot of PWDs are told not to express themselves or that their stories can’t be heard because they can’t talk or write. In this age of ever-advancing technology, that’s an excuse and I’m tired of hearing it. Not every PWD has to write a memoir, but even if they tell you only one or two things, they are sharing lives and experiences and thoughts with you. Respect that.
Other reasons, I think, are a little more complicated. Some PWDs don’t know how to share their experiences, or they don’t feel worthy to do so, or they think no one wants to know about them. This last one is something I struggle with, mostly because I write for a living. One of my old professors once said good writing is life with all the boring parts removed–actually, I think he got that quote from another writer. I’m not yet past the idea that for general audiences, my life would have a lot of boring parts.
But then again, aren’t the boring parts where we learn the most about ourselves and other people? For example, when we see a boy with PANDAS (a medical condition that causes strep antibodies to attack the brain, resulting in OCD and Tourette’s symptoms) struggle to deal with compulsions, doesn’t that tell us something about living with a misunderstood condition? When we hear about a girl being abused in a group home, yet not believed because she is supposedly manipulative, shouldn’t that show us there are flaws in how we think and how we treat our fellow people? When we “hear” the thoughts of a man with Down Syndrome, even if they’re about things we think are too simple, shouldn’t that give us a different view of the world?
So, what would it look like for PWDs to tell us about their own experiences? I can only speak directly to mine, but I think there are certain things we definitely need to hear more about, such as:
-What it’s like to triumph in some ways, yet struggle in others, and have people think that they should be reversed (i.e., as happened in my case, who cares about triumphing in the classroom if you can’t tie shoes)?
-What it’s like to be treated as a hero because you have a disability, not based on merit
-The dreams, hopes, and inner thoughts of PWDs. This is the biggie and why we need more stories.
-How faith and other virtues play roles in PWDs’ lives. For example, how does it affect you to be taught that your disability, the hardest circumstance you may ever face, is God’s will? Do you ever wonder if God has a special plan for everybody, but not you? I know I do.
Of course, for these stories to be told, we need ways to get them out there, and we need to accept new ways. I personally enjoy writing, but not every PWD is a writer. Some can draw beautiful, expressive pictures. Others can use assistive speaking devices. Others use sign language, music, or drama. There’s a whole world of mediums out there, and we need to make sure PWDs have access to them.
This month, we celebrate Black History Month. Just like blacks, or gays, or Asians, or Latinos, PWDs have a history, a past, a present, and a future. Let’s commit to learning about it through fiction, nonfiction, and all kinds of stories. Once we have the knowledge, let’s be willing to share it–even, yes, “the boring parts.” Because the boring parts are really the crucial pieces that make up a life and make it unique.